Page 181 of Detectives in Love
That’s when Xavier takes a step toward me, like he feels it too.
It sets Bernard off. He sees Xavier move and instantly swings the gun toward him.
Time stops.
Then two things happen at once: I jump, throwing myself in front of Xavier as the shots ring out—three sharp popsin a row—each one slamming into my back as I grab hold of his shoulders.
His face, twisted in horror, is the last thing I see before the air tears from my lungs. The pain hits all at once—a single, burning burst through my spine as everything goes dark.
And then I’m falling.
CHAPTER 18. HOME
“HANDS UP!”
“DON’T MOVE!”
More gunshots. Screams.
I hear them through the haze, through the ringing in my ears—glass shattering, something crashing, footsteps pounding, someone running. But I can’t see anything.
Xavier is the only thing on my mind. I try to get up, but pain explodes through my back and chest—I can’t even draw a full breath.
The darkness around me starts to lift, thinning into dim light. That’s when I see a dark figure above me, hands clawing desperately at my shirt, trying to get it off.
“Newt, wake up. Please…”
I know that voice instantly, and my heart skips a beat. He’s alive. He’s fucking alive—and I think I am too. The pain is unbearable, but I’m still here.
“Newt! Breathe… Please—” His voice sounds distant, fading. “Call the medics!”
“Xavier,” I mutter, catching his hands, “I’m fine, I’m fine… I’m wearing a bullet vest.”
“What?” He lets out a ragged breath, like he’s just come up for air. “A vest?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Willand made me wear it. I think it caught all the bullets.”
“Jesus, Newt,” Xavier murmurs, relief flooding his voice as he leans in to hug me. I feel his lips press kisses to my cheeks, my chin, my mouth.
“I’m okay,” I repeat, trying to sit up.
“Don’t move,” Xavier says, placing a hand on my chest. “Please lie down. The medics will be here soon.”
“Where’s Bernard?” I ask, feeling his fingers brush gently along my cheek.
“Bernard’s dead,” Xavier says. “Willand’s here.”
I lie still for a moment, the pain washing over me.
“Why is it so dark?” I ask.
“The police cut the lights before breaking in. Don’t get up.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling a wave of relief spread through my chest. So I’m not going blind. That’s good.
“Xavier,” I call, and he leans closer.
“Yes?” he says, his voice tight with worry.
