HAUNTINGLY | 18+

46 | One Condition

Xavier's POV

I quickly glance to my right at Layla's sleeping body, then refocus on the road. It's been nearly 7 hours of driving, with still another hour ahead. It's just a matter of time before Layla wakes up. And I wanted to make sure we were home before that happened.

Just as I'm lost in this thought, my phone rings, jolting me back to reality. I swiftly answer it.

"I have him," Axel's voice resonates over the line.

My grip tightens around the steering wheel. "Where are you?" I press.

"I'm parked by an abandoned building, about an hour away from your place," he replies.

"And where's Jason?"

"He's out like a light in the backseat," he responds, his satisfaction evident.

A chuckle escapes me. It's been a rough day for the Rose siblings.

"What do you want me to do with him?" Axel inquires.

"Take him to the warehouse. And make sure he can't escape. If that means you have to put bullets in both his fucking legs, so be it," I grind out.

"You got it, I'm on my way," he confirms before ending the call.

I press on the gas, just wanting to be home already. These last two days have been hell, and all I can think about is crashing in my bed. But all of that's gone out the window now that Axel's got Jason.

Now, all I can picture is my hands squeezing the life out of Jason as I watch him gasp for air. Over the past few years, my mind has become a playground of creative ways to kill Jason.

A sudden shift in Layla's position catches my attention, but she quickly settles again. I admit, drugging her wasn't the wisest choice, but in that moment, I couldn't muster the energy to deal with her.

Swerving in and out of traffic and pushing the car to its limits, I finally reach home. Parking quickly, I hop out and head to Layla's side. With a deft hand, I unbuckle her seatbelt and lift her into my arms. She's still out cold, so carrying her is my only choice.

Approaching the house, one of the guards swings the door open. I nod briefly, entering and making a beeline for my room upstairs. I gently place Layla on my bed.

Raising her sweatshirt slightly, I inspect the bandages. "Of course you haven't changed it," I mumble. I walk to the bathroom and grab new bandages. Returning, I carefully swap out the old ones.

The stitches seemed to be healing nicely. I'm sure in a few weeks they would be completely gone. I tug her sweatshirt back into place and dispose of the old bandages.

Coming out of the bathroom, I notice Hunter entering my room. His attention immediately shifts to Layla. "Is she asleep?" he inquires, curiosity evident.

"More like drugged," I respond matter-of-factly.

His head snaps toward me, eyes widening. "Please tell me you're joking," he implores.

"I'm not." I walk towards the couch and settle down.

"I shouldn't have let you go after her alone," he admits, shaking his head.

"You? Let me? That's a good one. I had to throw you out of the car cause you were screaming like a little bitch," I retort.

"Look, driving 120 in a 45 zone is pretty much begging for a death wish," he argues. "Maybe it's just me, but I'd like to keep breathing."

"I'm still in one piece," I point out.

"Right, for now," he concedes, moving toward me and taking a seat on the couch. "So, what's the plan?"