HAUNTINGLY | 18+

48 | Checkup

Nearly two weeks have passed since I gave Xavier my answer, and each day I've asked him when I could see Jason. My impatience was growing.

I examine my stomach in the mirror. The stitches had entirely dissolved, leaving behind only scars. I reach for the oil and gently apply it to the scars, hoping it will help minimize their appearance.

Once that was done, I step into my closet and choose my outfit for the day. Opting for a black corset top that laces up at the back, along with loose black jeans that hang low on my hips, I complete the look with a pair of sneakers.

I applied my usual makeup and left the room, descending the stairs. With the fight just a few days away, I hadn't had much chance to see Xavier and the guys. They had been tirelessly preoccupied with preparations.

Entering the kitchen, I filled a bowl with cereal—Cinnamon Toast Crunch, the ultimate breakfast choice. Settling at the island, I began to eat.

When I voiced my desire to kill my own brother, I was taken aback. The words felt unreal leaving my lips. Initially, I regretted uttering them, but after a few days of contemplation, I recognized it as the right decision.

It might sound horrifying, as who would ever think of killing their own sibling? Yet, after enduring all the pain and suffering that Jason inflicted on me, I couldn't muster any sympathy for him.

My thoughts break as Xavier enters through the door. I was mad at him for ruining my plans at the Golden Motel and for drugging me. However, it dawned on me that he had every reason to be angry too. Eventually, we reached an unspoken agreement to set it all aside and move forward.

Approaching me, he grabs the spoon from my bowl and shoves cereal into his mouth. A frown creases my brow. "Get your own cereal."

He offers a smirk. "Yours just tastes better."

I slide the bowl in front of him, allowing him to finish the remainder of my cereal. "The doctor called me today," he mentions, placing the spoon back in the bowl.

"Doctor?" I inquire, a bit perplexed.

"Doctor Williams," he specifies.

"Oh, why did he call you?" I press further.

"He wants you to come in for a checkup on the stitches," he relays.

"But he mentioned I only needed to return if they got infected," I remind him.

"I'm not sure," he mutters. "That's what he mentioned." I observe as Xavier begins to tap his foot on the floor.

"Are you sure it's the doctor's idea for me to get checked or is it yours?" I question, crossing my arms.

He exhales in exasperation. "It's the doctor, Layla. Do you honestly think I want to revisit that hospital and see his irritating face again?" he retorts.

I chuckle. "If you're secretly worried about my perfectly healed stitches, just say so," I tease.

He looks into my eyes. "I'm always going to be worried about you."

His words tighten around my heart. "Fine, I'll go for the checkup."

He nods approvingly. "Good, because the appointment is in ten minutes."

"Seriously? You had to wait until the last minute to tell me," I mutter, slightly irritated.

"Don't worry, I'll get us there just in time," he assures, his fingers closing around mine.

And true to his words, that's exactly what he managed. After a series of heart-pounding moments and nearly encountering a few near-death experiences, Xavier got us to the hospital in just seven minutes.