In Harmony(109)

My parents were approaching the table again. My father wearing a satisfied smile, my mother looking straight at me, her face perfectly blank as they walked over Ross and Melinda Wilkinson.

Beside them was Xavier.

The temperature in the room dropped a hundred degrees. I broke out in gooseflesh as the blood drained from my entire body, leaving me weak and cold.

He wore a dark suit with a gray tie. His black hair was slicked back and glinted in the muted lighting of the ballroom. His large, dark eyes raked me up and down, a faint smile curling his lips. He was handsome in the way a vampire was handsome. Dangerous and sexy, but no less a monster that would suck the life out of you and leave you in a state of half-dead, half-alive.

Until he comes to finish you off.

I stared without breathing. An icy boulder sitting on my chest.

“Willow, my dear,” my father said more confidently, as if we were standing on firmer ground. “You remember the Wilkinsons? Ross, Melinda and their son, Xavier?” He beamed proudly. “Xavier just finished his degree at Amherst and is set to pursue a career in politics.”

“Good to see you again, Willow,” Xavier said in his smooth, low voice. I only stared, and in the silence, his smile tilted a little with annoyance.

My mother’s gaze darted between us, her mouth slightly ajar.

My legs shook as I rose to my feet, still unable to tear my eyes from Xavier. If I blinked or looked away, he’d pounce and tear me to shreds.

“What are you doing here?” I managed through chattering teeth.

My father cleared his throat. “It’s part of the surprise I wanted to share with you tonight. Is Martin Ford here? No? Well, you can share the news with him when he arrives.”

“Daniel,” my mother said in a strangled tone. “May I have a word?”

“In a moment, dear.” He put his hands behind his back, the way he did when giving speeches to stockholders. “Willow, I was telling Mr. Wilkinson about your endeavors with the Harmony Community Theater. I had my secretary investigate the particulars of the building and its financial standing. I’m pleased to say the Wilkinsons—by way of the Wexx Foundation for Charitable Works—have agreed to invest in the project. We’ll ensure the entire block is preserved and maintained, and we’ll establish Martin Ford as the creative director for time in perpetuity.”

My vision clouded gray. I didn’t think the ballroom could be any colder. Xavier looked angry and nervous now. Hands jammed in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

The Wilkinsons are going to be part owners of the Harmony Community Theater.

I thought I was going to be sick.

“Willow?” my father asked. “Are you all right? I thought this would be joyous news.”

“She looks a little pale, Mr. Holloway,” Xavier said, stepping forward. “She’s probably so happy it’s overwhelming. Come dance with me. We need to catch up.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Mrs. Wilkinson said.

“No,” Mom whispered.

Xavier closed his hand around my arm. I nearly screamed. I told myself to scream. But all my nerves were dizzy and numb now. The shock of his presence and its shadowy memories closed around me were like a drug in my drink. I couldn’t speak. I could hardly move, as Xavier pulled me onto the dance floor, I thought I heard my mom calling after me. Her voice tiny through a roaring blizzard, far away and unreachable.

The piano played “What I Did For Love” from A Chorus Line and Xavier drew me toward his body.

“Don’t touch me,” I whispered, holding myself stiff. “I’ll scream…”

“Scream?” His outward face to the crowd pleasant and unruffled, but his eyes confused. “Willow, what’s going on? The way you were looking at me is making me think there’s been a misunderstanding about the last time we talked.”

“A misunderstanding?” I managed. “Talked? We…we didn’t…talk.”

“Is that what you’re upset about? That I didn’t call you again after the party?”

I sucked in a breath. The disconnect from reality was so staggering I could hardly comprehend it.

He turned me in a slow circle, and my body recoiled. Gagged. My skin crawled. Xavier in the flesh, walking around, wearing an expensive suit, smiling and talking and living. Graduating college and planning a future. No night terrors. No sleeping on the floor instead of a bed, no marking his skin with black ink to show where ‘normal life’ used to be.

It repelled me down to my bones.

I sucked in a breath and the drugged, hazy shock drained out.

“Take your fucking hands off of me,” I seethed.

His hand on mine tightened immediately. The other, at my waist, pulled tighter.

“I think there’s a misunderstanding about what happened that night and I think we should talk it out,” Xavier said, still smiling brightly for anyone watching. “I’m open to it. If you’d stop being so dramatic.”

“You raped me.”

He froze, blinked rapidly, then gave his head a small shake. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, you fucking sadistic asshole. After everyone left, you put something in my drink and you took me up to my room. I don’t remember every last detail, but here’s what I do remember. You were eating peanuts. They were on your breath when you tried to kiss me. To this day the smell of peanut butter makes me gag. I had bruises on my throat where you choked me. Was it one or both hands? Did you need the other hand to subdue me?”