That kiss just surpassed the last one we shared. He hasn’t said a word since. But, I don’t mind. It gives me time to recover and pretend I’m not over here wanting to, well, unzip his pants, slide my hand inside and jerk him off while he navigates us through scenic LA. Shameful, I know.

This is my first time on the West Coast, kidnapping still counts, so I let my eyes soak it all up while I try to calm my body. LA is a different world. Nestled between the ocean and mountains, every bend in the road feels like crossing a border. Xavier continues down the meandering road, silent, and for once, I just let it be. We pass a little pizza place, and my mind turns to thoughts of Hannah. Her love for pizza was unparalleled. She believed it was one of the four food groups, and the thought makes me laugh to myself.

My brain still tries to wrap around the fact my father killed her. We always look for the good in people, but sometimes there is none to be found. He won't hesitate to do the same to Xavier. Fear wracks my bones, almost to the point of snapping. I can’t stay here. I can’t let anyone else get hurt.

I glance at Xavier, studying his tight jaw and clenched fists guiding the car through the rolling countryside. I believe Xavier with all my heart about how the events the night his mother died went down. My father is too far past gone to ever be able to be saved from his life. He’s hurt too many people, Xavier and myself included.

A while later, he drives his stylish Mercedes into a parking lot at an abandoned office building.

“Where are we?” I ask, glancing around.

“Come on. You’ll see.”

I follow him to the door of the darkened concrete building with no sign indicating what it used to be. “I don’t know. This place looks pretty sketchy.”

He raises a brow and throws my words back at me. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.”

“Touché,” I reply as he grabs the keys in his hand and opens the front door.

The fluorescent lights hum to life when Xavier flips the switch.

“This is my place,” he says, proudly.

I glance around at the cavernous, empty space. Tile floors and white walls.

“Doesn’t look like you’re doing much business out of here.”

He laughs. “This place hasn’t been functional in quite some time.” He walks to the center. “It was the first business I ever bought.”

“Really? What did you do here?”

“I started with installing security systems. Then, I invested my mother’s life insurance money in buying the business.”

“That’s great.” Fascinated with the glimpse he's giving me into those years after he left, I let him reveal it to me at his own pace.

He looks around as if he's picturing it still intact. “I designed my own security system that got a lot of attention.

“Oh?”

“You know Graham Hayes?”

I tilt my head, giving him a ‘What kind of Mafia daughter do you take me for?’ look. “Um, yes. Dirty Guys Do It Better? I used to love that show.”

“He hired me to do his.” He laughs to himself. “Then he told a few of his movie star friends, and the rest is history.”

I cross my arms, looking around and imagining a young Xavier working here. “So that’s what you do?” I smile when he nods. “I always figured you’d be a baseball star someday. But this makes sense.”

“Baseball was a hobby,” he says, and a bolt of heat courses through my body as he walks around, his smile growing by the second as he remembers his first business. “This was my real passion.”

“So, you probably know a lot of movie stars?”

“A few,” he answers, smirking.

How cool is he? I hate to say how proud I am of him, given the circumstances, but I am. So proud.

“I’m proud of you, Xavier. I always knew you were destined for greatness.”

He moves closer, sliding his hands in his pockets. “I think you are too.”

“Thanks.” Like fog on a mirror, all the good feelings dissipate, leaving harsh reality staring back at me. “Will you vote for my husband?”

He shakes his head. “Rhi,” he whispers. “I know you’re angry because you were running away from your life, but he would have just found you.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

He moves closer, stalking, watching, and I swallow—hard. “I do know.”

“You know what? You’re crazy. One minute you’re this sweet Xavier I remember from growing up, and the next you’re the biggest asshole.” I take a deep breath. “And then, you act like I should be thanking my lucky stars because you kidnapped me?”

He blinks, moving closer.

“Don’t.” I hold up a hand to block him from coming to close. “You don’t get to sit here and pretend like you’re some white knight rescuing me. You kidnapped me and stopped me from finding my greatness.”

Our eyes battle each other, and he finally relents, letting me win a war I am clearly losing. “You want to leave?”

“Yes. For the millionth time, yes.”

Because the longer I stay, the more I forget about why I should be leaving.