Page 52 of Xavier

“You mean, before you leave.” Lissette leaned her forehead into his chest. “I broke my own rule and got used to having you around.” She pressed her cheek to his chest. “I can hear your heart beating. It makes me feel calm and safe. How will I feel when I can’t hear that reassuring sound, or the strength of your arms around me?” She pushed back from him. “It all goes back to the truth.”

‘What truth?” he asked, his hands falling to his sides.

“The only person I can count on one hundred percent is me.” She grimaced. “The truth is, you could leave in five days or today, and I’d still face the same dangers. Having you here only delays the inevitable.”

He reached for her.

She stepped away. “Seriously, you should leave me now, before you’re injured or killed in the crossfire.”

Xavier’s jaw hardened. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “I made a promise.”

“To protect me for the week.” She snorted. “Again, we’d only be delaying the inevitable. The mafia will find me.”

He wanted to argue with her, but she was right. For a long moment, he stood with his fists clenched, frustrated that he could do nothing to help her once he left Bayou Mambaloa.

“Maybe we can stop the guys who keep coming after you,” he offered.

She gave him a crooked smile. “Whoever’s in charge will send someone else.”

“Fine. We’re delaying the inevitable.” He tipped his chin toward the door to the boarding house. “We can delay it inside while I shower and change into glass-free clothes. You should do the same. I can loan you something to wear.”

Her gaze swept him. “You’re not my size.”

He grinned. “No, but you can cinch up a pair of sweatpants and tuck a T-shirt into them.” Xavier held the door for her. “They might not be colorful enough to suit your usual tastes, but they won’t have glass in them.”

She stepped through the door. “I could be convinced. I don’t like the idea of glass in my hair.”

He led her up to his room on the second floor and unlocked the door.

She entered, her brow dipping. “You really are ready to go, aren’t you?”

He stared around at the boxes lining the walls. “I’m mostly packed and living out of my duffel bag. It’s amazing what you accumulate in two years.” He dug into the bag and pulled out a couple of black T-shirts, jeans and a pair of sweatpants.

Lissette walked around the room, her fingers trailing over the neatly stacked cardboard boxes. “Haven’t most of your team moved out of the boarding house?”

“They have,” he said. “Some sooner than others. Most did so as they married or moved in with their significant others. A couple rented apartments or cottages in town.”

“But not you?” She turned, an eyebrow cocked.

“Like I told you before, I haven’t made the connection with Bayou Mambaloa. It didn’t feel like home.”

“Does anywhere feel like home?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not really.” Not for a very long time. Xavier jerked his head toward the bathroom. “You can have the shower first.”

She took the sweats and T-shirt he proffered and walked into the bathroom. “I won’t be long. I really just want to get the glass out of my hair.”

“There’s shampoo. Help yourself.”

Her lips twisted into a wry grin. “I should wait and shower at home, but then I’d have to give you a raincheck for that meal I promised.”

“I’d be okay with whatever makes you comfortable. Either way, I’m seeing you home tonight.” He gave her a pointed stare. “All the way home.”

“You don’t have⁠—”

“I do. They might take their attacks to the water. In fact, you might put Madame Gautier at risk staying out there.”

Her brow furrowed. “You think?” Her lips pressed into a tight line. “I don’t want her hurt because of me.”