Page 82 of Not All Himbos Wear Capes
Or villains…
My phone buzzed from under the pillow just as my mother left the room. I snatched it up, both hoping for and dreading another text from Xander.
Instead, it was from Kai.
Matchmaker:Did Xander murder you?
Matchmaker:He showed up at my doorstep like a hot mess express and said I needed to take Meowson while he went to his parents’ house for a few days. I asked where my favorite himbo was but he gave me that death look… you know the one.
Matchmaker:C’mon, give me the tea from beyond the grave, bestie!
I smiled, thankful Kai wasn’t also worrying about me, and that Meowson was in good hands.
Scrolling through Xander’s texts again, I almost replied, but then acknowledged I needed to grow a pair and go grovel in person.
Unfortunately, his location didn’t just complicate things—it made them exponentially more dangerous. The Suarez compound was the last place I wanted to return to, especially now that I’d hurt one of their own. That I’d made it out of there alive previously was a miracle I didn’t expect to see happen again.
With that in mind, I accessed my bank account and quickly emptied it before suiting up. Blowing out a slow breath, I realized this might truly be the end, but also knew it was the right thing to do.
It’s time to show Xander the real me.
The man behind the mask.
CHAPTER37
XANDER
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.
“Breathe, doofus,” Violentia’s snarky voice brayed from the doorway behind me. “Mother says if your boy toy was actually dead, you’d be in way worse shape.”
“What the fuck does she know about it?” I rasped, lifting my head to sightlessly stare out the glass balcony doors, latching on to this kernel of hope. “She’s an automaton lacking human emotion.”
My sister snorted and came to join me on the bed. “Oh, come now, you fucking romantic. You don’t think her and daddy dearestlurveeach other?”
I almost threw up in my mouth. “One, I’m not even sure how they procreated, as I suspect father has an alien tentacle for a dick and two, never refer to him as ‘daddy’ again.”
There’s only one person I want to hear that word from.
What if I never hear him say it again?
“You’re still not breathing,” Vi sang out, delivering a punishing slap to my back to help me along.
Rising, she stalked to the balcony doors on towering heels before flinging them open and stepping outside. “Let’s air this place out, little bro. It smells like dirty socks and depression in here.”
She sounds like Kai.
I wish Kai was here to pet my hair again.
My thoughts were both dizzyingly full and frighteningly empty. Although I’d already exhausted every avenue to locate Butch, I was methodically scheming a dozen more—determined to track him down. At the same time, my survival instincts had kicked in, to the point that I was perilously close to disassociating and pretending this nightmare wasn’t happening.
This can’t be happening.
After Captain Masculine shattered my world with a single sentence, my immediate response was to find the hero and put his head on a stake. Then I took a breath, reminded myself the supe was a notorious asshole who was probably just fucking with me, and tried to call Butch.
When he didn’t answer the phone or reply to my next five texts, I raced back to my lair to get my car and drove to The Gloucester. The doorman tried to stop me, but when I informed him I was investigating a potential murder in his schmancy building, he quickly made himself scarce.
The threat of bad publicity will have that effect.
