River Crossing

Chapter Fifteen

I wake up in a bed too comfortable to be my own and I jump when I find Xavier looming beside me, his grey eyes stone hard. He stands when he sees that I am finally awake.

He is in the same shirt that he wore to pick me up. The rolled-up sleeves showcase his muscles as he stalks to the bed.

"Fifteen stitches; fifteen fucking stitches," He growls lowly, menacingly.

I feel the mattress dip as he gets closer, leaning forward to rest his weight on the bed and I brace myself for what he is about to say. He begins.

"Do the words 'fifteen stitches' mean nothing to you?" Asks Xavier, raising his voice a notch to drive his point home.

I shut my eyes, giving my weight back to the mattress, giving in to Xavier's scolding. This is one battle I have lost.

"I get it, River, you didn't want to worry me. You're selfless and you don't want anyone to worry about you, I know," He rants. "But do you call 'fifteen stitches' a minor accident?"

Xavier comes over, gripping my jaw in his hands. I meet his furious gaze meekly, embarrassed by my stubbornness.

"River Griffith, you're a scholarship student studying to be an architect. Would you like to try doing it after losing an arm to infection? You'll make the headlines for sure, but why cripple yourself? I expect you to be smarter than that." He releases my head, pushing it away roughly.

"I'm sorry, alright? I thought it was okay," I say, trying to get out of his grasp as he squeezes harder.

"Don't do anything like that again," He says walking off. Sitting down on the chair once more, he asks, "Now, who hurt you?"

My throat turns uncomfortably dry as I try to think of an appropriate answer. Xavier's gaze does not waver, pressuring the answer out of me. I cough, but that does not break the tension at all.

"I was clumsy and dropped a mug."

"Do not think for one second that I actually do believe that. Why are you lying to me?"

I wince as I try to push myself to sit up, putting unnecessary pressure on my arm. From the look of the room, this place is definitely not the hospital. I ask Xavier where I am.

"The hospital's suites were all full, so I brought you to my house," He answers simply.

After hearing his response, I take in the tasteful feature wall and stylish black and white furniture. There were chrome accents everywhere and the room was definitely too big to be a guest room.

"Are you hungry? I got the maid to make you something."

My expression must have given my thoughts away as Xavier asks, "What's wrong?"

I repeat my question, this time being more specific. "Where exactly am I?"

He shrugs. "My room."

Immediately, I stand up, shooting out of the bed to press myself against the wall. This is when I see the nightdress I have on. A look of outrage sprawls across my face.

"Miss Griffith, please get into bed," A woman says, walking into the room with a basket of fresh bandages, bottles of disinfectant and gauze. "You wouldn't want to tear through the stitches, putting them into you was hard enough."

Clueless, I look to Xavier for information.

"It's true. They had to knock you out because you were screaming so much." He smiles, remembering my agony. Sadistic jerk.