Page 121 of Crossing the Line
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“Kate?” Xavier answered his phone before the first ring finished.
“He has her. He has her, and he’s making someone live stream it,” Kate sobbed in his ear. “They’re at her star. He’s going to execute her! She’s already bleeding, X. You have to do something.”
“We’re almost there,” Micah said, putting the pedal all the way down.
One block to go, Xavier calculated.
“Kate, call Travers. We’re here now.”
He could see them from here. Waverly was kneeling on a star, her star, her head twisted at a funny angle.
“Go!” His voice broke on the command, and he unclasped his seatbelt. He and Micah had known each other long enough that they didn’t need any other words to form the plan. This was life or death, and there was only one chance at making sure Waverly came out of this alive.
Ganim glanced in their direction as the roar of the engine caught his attention, but they were too fast. Xavier was already flinging his door open as Micah roared the Yukon up onto the sidewalk within inches of the man. When the knife flashed up, catching the light, Xavier fired three times into center mass and launched himself from the vehicle.
Ganim crumpled beneath him like a deck of cards. There was no resistance in his lifeless body. Xavier didn’t bother checking for a pulse. He sprang to Waverly’s side. Those beautiful eyes were closed, and there was so much blood. There were wounds on her face and her neck. His last strike had managed to connect, even as he died. The knife stuck in her chest, the handle angling out.
She was so pale. His Angel on concrete.
Xavier leaned over, framing her face with his hands. His lips hovered over her ear. “I’m here, Angel. I’m here. You’re safe now. Don’t leave me.”
Micah was with him, kneeling at his side. But Xavier couldn’t hear the words he was speaking. There were footsteps up close and sirens far away, but nothing registered with him. Not even the tears on his own cheeks. Her pulse was thready under his fingers.
“You can’t leave me, Angel. Stay. Please stay, baby.”
For the briefest moment, those gray-green eyes fluttered open. “I knew you’d come, X.”
“Always, Angel. No matter where you are or what you need, I’ll be there.”
A ghost of a smile teased her pale lips. “I guess I can go to Stanford now.”
“You can go anywhere you want, Angel.” He pressed gentle kisses to her forehead and cheeks. “But I’m going with you.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, but the smile remained.
“She’s losing blood, Saint,” Micah said grimly.
One of the bystanders jumped in with shaking hands. “I’m in nursing school,” he said and set about assessing the stab wound. He and one of the girls applied pressure with makeshift bandages while Micah jumped on his cell phone.
The sirens grew louder, and Xavier could see red and blue lights reflecting in the store windows, but his gaze never left her face.
“I love you, my Angel,” he murmured against her ear. “Since the moment you tossed me in that pool, I’ve been in love with you, and I’m not going to stop. So you need to stay with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Micah had to pull Xavier away from her when the EMTs arrived. His friend held him back in a bear hug while they went to work on her. A crowd, some hysterical and some ghoulishly excited, had begun to gather, and uniforms were putting up tape and pushing everyone back. Ganim’s body lay crumpled where it had fallen, ignored as the energy of the scene focused on Waverly.
Xavier’s gasp of pain ripped through him when he saw them lift her listless body onto the gurney. Micah held on to him for dear life, supporting his weight.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
When they moved to load her into the ambulance, Micah shoved him after them. “Go.”
Xavier was clamoring aboard before anyone could suggest otherwise. He didn’t bother looking up as the doors closed, just held her hand and watched her face. Nothing existed to him beyond that beautiful face, frozen in time.
He couldn’t have told anyone how long the ambulance ride was or how long he waited outside the trauma room. The only thing that he was able to recall was the nurse who pressed a cup of coffee into his trembling hands. He caught the words “lucky” and “recover,” and it was enough to crack the dam inside him that had held back the fear, the remorse, the pain.
