"Now?" He smiles for a second and then it fades. "I'm willing to admit that I don't know anything, not anymore. Sometimes life takes a wrong turn and it goes unnoticed 'til a certain point. Now, I wonder, and I can't help it." He leans in and presses his lips to mine. The action catches me off guard, but I don't slap him or pull away. Trystan feels like an old blanket, warm and familiar. The small touch means so much and nothing at all. It's almost as if it were a test, as if he wanted to see if my lips felt like hers—like the woman he's lost.
Trystan doesn't taste like Sean or hold me the same way. He's gentle, seeking, asking if he should be there, waiting for me rather than forcing himself on me. It's different and I can't help but wonder if Sean's kisses were like this years ago before Amanda shattered his soul.
It's so unexpected and so gentle. I need comfort. I'm scared to death and haven't had someone to hug, or hold me tight. Sometimes those silent gestures mean the most. They're the glue that holds our fragile lives together.
My lips linger, tingling from the contact. It's at that moment that Sean speaks. "Wow, you didn't even wait until the bed was cold. Or did he hire you from Black?"
CHAPTER 4
Trystan pulls his face back, but holds onto me, breathing in slowly before he stands. I want to fight with Sean, but Trystan is between us. He's too calm, too unintimidated, which makes Sean irate. Trystan runs his fingers through his long hair, pushing it out of his eyes. "If you treated her just a little bit better, just a little bit kinder, she'd still be yours. You're too blind to see what she is if you think she's just a call girl."
I was ready to scream at Sean, but the way Trystan speaks deflates me, as it does Sean. Sean's still mad, prickled like a cactus, but he doesn't speak. He allows Trystan to walk away, leaving the two of us staring at one another. That kiss was nothing like Sean's. I could feel Trystan's anguish, the need to forget, to be lost in someone else. He's mourning, deeply.
So is Sean, but his grief comes across differently, and if he's not in control he feels weak. It's a result of losing Amanda, I know it is, but sometimes I crave that soft touch. I glance at Trystan for a second, watching him tuck his hands into his pockets and disappear around the corner. His shoulders are hunched and his head is hung. He looks nothing like the arrogant singer that struts around on stage.
"You like him." Sean speaks and brings my gaze back to his.
I'm silent for a moment and then say, "Does it matter? I'm not asking to be mean, but does it honestly matter? You promised your mother that you're through with me."
"You're not wearing my ring, so there's nothing more to talk about." Sean ends the conversation and I feel the hole in my chest heaving with a weight that I cannot bear.
So I just nod, and tuck my chin so he can't see my eyes, and let my hair fall forward. I don't tuck it behind my ear this time, I let it dangle and shield me. I steady my voice even though I want to cry. "So, what now?"
"Now we hide you until we find out where Henry Thomas has been."
"Sean, I'm tired of hiding." I'm tired of hiding, of fighting, of trying to love someone who doesn't want to be loved. I'm so weary that I feel my seams are coming undone and I can't hold it together any longer. There's blood on my hands—I killed someone. The guilt from that lingers, never truly leaving me even though I had to do it. Rationality doesn't erase guilt or the worry that someone will find his body.
Sean crouches in front of me, lowering his toned body until he's in my face, and speaks so softly that it scares me. Between his tone and the look in his eye, I know he's desperate. This person, the murderer, is a step ahead of him and he can't stand it. His nose just barely brushes mine. His lips curl as he articulates each sound, so that I know there's no room for debate. "Your roommate had a bullet in her brain. I will not let that happen to you. You don't have a choice in the matter. We're hiding you until this situation is resolved and I know you're not in danger."
Sean stands and yells, "Scott!" He calls out once, then again. Trystan emerges from the back of the building, standing in the shadows of the dark hallway. "Take her away from here and hide her until I can resolve a few things." The two men stare at each other. There's an understanding between them that I can't fathom. Sean hates Trystan, why is he handing me off to him?
Before I can speak, Trystan nods. "Done."
They glare at each other for a long moment, then Sean adds, "And Scott, if I can find her, you're a dead man."
CHAPTER 5
When did I lose control over my life? I'm a college drop-out and that's the least of my problems. My dreams shattered one by one, like glass balls falling from a dead Christmas tree. I made one bad decision after another and I can't stand it anymore.