His shoes had similar labels, and when I walked into his bathroom, I wasn’t surprised to find more labels for toothpaste, Q-tips, you name it.
If I hadn’t known him, it would probably make me hightail it home, but knowing Tristan just made the whole label thing endearing and so cute I wanted to keep laughing.
I needed a laugh after the rejection, but in the end, his words had made sense… we didn’t know each other well enough. Tragedy had a way of doing that to you, creating a false sense of security with the people you’re with, making you trust them all the more. I knew that firsthand, and I also saw the wisdom in what Tristan had said.
With a sigh, I grabbed the remote to his ridiculously large TV and plopped on the bed.
I figured I was lying on his side on account that the alarm clock was there with his reading glasses.
With a smirk, I pulled out the book on top. It said DSM-5 on it and was probably the biggest book I’d ever seen. When I looked at the back, it said a whole bunch of stuff about diagnosing different psychological disorders. Kind of heavy reading, if you asked me. Then again, he did have his Ph.D. in psychology and had mentioned owning that pharmaceutical company.
Shaking my head, I set the book down and noticed a brown worn journal. I didn’t really take Tristan as the type of guy to have a journal, and the fact that I’d get to peek into his private life sent a bit of thrill through my body. Then again, it was Tristan. He was most likely labeling more things and making grocery lists, not writing about his deepest darkest fantasies.
Smiling, I opened the book.
My smile fell.
Along with the book.
I heard it tumble to the ground, but I was unable to move… frozen in spot… because the very first page hadn’t said Tristan on it.
No it had said The Journal of Taylor Blaine.
It was his writing.
And his picture was next to it.
Right along with mine.
Tristan walked into the room, popcorn in hand. “Hey, what’s wrong you? Looks like you’ve seen a—” His eyes flickered to the floor then back to me. The popcorn dropped out of his hands as he lunged for the bed.
“No,” I said in a cold voice, then louder. “NO!”
“Lisa, I can explain!”
“No!” I yelled over and over again. All I kept saying was no. It was all I could get out, the only word I could actually form without screaming my head off, without bursting into tears.
Tristan knelt in front of me, gripping my hands. “Lisa, I know you’re pissed, but you have to listen to me.”
I slapped him across the cheek so hard my hand stung.
“Did you have fun?” I spat. Betrayal was a knife twisting in my chest. I was hot then cold all over. “Making fun of me behind my back? Pretending to like me when you knew the truth all along?”
“It wasn’t like that.” Tristan shook his head. “If you’ll just listen, I’ll explain everything.”
“Yeah, right.” I snorted, pushing at his chest. “Explain how you came to have Taylor’s journal. The same Taylor who raped me,” I rasped. My breath was uneven like someone had just punched me. I tried to move away from him but fell to the floor, like my legs wouldn’t work. I turned around and kept yelling as tears streamed down my face. “The same Taylor who committed suicide in front of me! That’s—” I gasped. “—my picture.”
“Lisa, calm down. You’re hyperventilating.”
“No!” I gasped again, my throat feeling like it was closing. “It was all a lie! You lied… you said I could trust you, and you lied!” My vision blurred. “Just like him— I’m so stupid, so, so stupid! I keep falling for it, over and over again.” Hot tears streamed down my face. “I can’t — I can’t — breathe.”
Tristan rushed to my side. I tried to shove his hands away, but I was too weak, both emotionally and physically. He gently drew me into his arms and whispered, “In and out, breathe with me, slowly…”
I fought against him.
He still held me.
I punched him in the stomach.
But he didn’t stop trying to soothe me.
“I hate you…” I wheezed. “…so much…”
“I know.”
“You made me believe… you made me believe in love again...” My voice trailed off as my vision turned black. I succumbed to the darkness, praying I’d never wake up.
****
There were voices in my dreams… they were familiar. I heard Saylor and then Kiersten…
The bed dipped. I curled onto my side, still not opening my eyes as Gabe shouted, “What the hell did you do!”
“She just found it.”
“You mean you left it out? You bastard! I should kill you!” Gabe roared.
“Guys.” Wes’s voice sounded calmer. “Stop.”
“Right. I just freaking left out his sick journal so she’d hate me forever.” Tristan matched Gabe’s loudness. “Good plan, jackass!”
“I’m going to kill you!”
Tristan was quiet and then whispered, “Do it. I already feel dead.”
“I think she’s waking up,” Kiersten whispered.
Something cold touched my forehead.
I blinked once, then twice. My eyes felt heavy. The first thing I saw was Kiersten's worried gaze and then Saylor's. They were on either side of me. I was in Tristan’s bed. Something confined me, kept me from moving. No. Panicked, all I could think of was being tied to the bed. But no, it was just blankets. Still, I had to get out of there.
I thrashed, kicking at the covers and pushing at them. I had to get them off me. I didn’t want any part of him touching me. Just the thought that he’d even touched the sheets that now touched me held me down, disgusted me. Bile rose in my throat, and my stomach twisted. I was going to puke.
“Stop.” Kiersten gripped my hands. “You’re going to pass out again.”
“Shit.” Gabe ran over to the bed and gripped my shoulders. “Breathe, Lisa. C’mon, tell me you’re okay. Tell me you aren’t going to scare me again.”
I nodded, tears sliding down my cheeks.
Gabe examined my face then tilted my head to the side. “Bastard. I should kill you!” He lunged for Tristan again, but Wes stopped him, pushing him away so hard Gabe almost fell over.
I should have blushed. I knew I had a few hickeys; I’d seen them in the mirror when I’d used the bathroom.
More tears fell.
And silence.
I hated the silence because it was always impossible to interpret. Were they pitying me? Scared? Sad? And why the heck were they even here, like they knew—?
My head snapped up as I met Gabe’s guilty face then Wes’s.
“All of you,” I croaked. “All of you knew?”
“It’s not what you think.” Tristan took a step forward, only to be stopped by Wes’s hand.
“Explain.” A slow chill rolled through me as I rubbed my arms and tried to calm my body down.
Tristan looked to Gabe and started toward me. “I came to Seattle for you…”
My breathing hitched at his bold admission then picked up again.
“The journal was sent to me a month ago, but the last entry was two years ago.” He swallowed. “It had your picture in it, and when I saw you on the news—”
Gabe snorted.
Tristan shot him a glare and continued, “—I knew you were the same person in the journal, the girl he’d talked about.”
“So you felt the need to find me and torture me?” That couldn’t be my voice bordering on hysteria.
“No.” Tristan shifted on his feet. He glanced up at the ceiling then settled his eyes on me. “I found you because he’s my half-brother. I went looking for you because, until six months ago, I didn’t even know he existed. I searched for you because he was sick…” Tristan’s voice cracked. “He was really sick, Lisa, and I needed to know…” His eyes pooled with tears. “…I needed to know if I had the—”A shudder wracked his taut body. “—the same thing.”
/>
The knot in my stomach became a huge, coiling rattlesnake, ready to strike and kill with its venom. And I was the target. I swallowed, but my throat was dry. “The same thing?” I croaked.
Tristan cursed and ran his fingers through his thick, messy hair. “He — he had narcissistic tendencies, schizophrenia, and a—” He squeezed his eyes shut then pushed them open again. “—a god complex. He took medicine, medicine I think my father’s company provided for him. I couldn’t find the paper trail, even though I tried.” Tristan heaved a sigh then shrugged. “Six months ago, I confronted my father about Taylor, and he mentioned that I had the same bad seed. He said I was the same, and the last thing I want to be is the same, Lisa. I just needed to know what set him off, what killed him, what drove him to insanity.”
Hearts don’t make sounds when they break, but there’s pain — God is there pain. One minute everything’s fine, you’re able to breathe, able to feel blood pump through your veins. And the very next minute? You’re unable to focus on anything but the tightness in your chest as the world falls from underneath your feet and takes your heart right along with it.
“Well, you should have just asked, Tristan.” I looked around at all the faces in the room. “It was me.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I’d killed him. It finally occurred to me one night when I woke up from another nightmare. Had I not gone along with that first dare, to embarrass that kid, to post the video to Shame… to hit on him then dump drinks all over his lap… I shook my head, knowing the truth. I’d said yes to Taylor the first time, and the second, even the tenth and eleventh. So by default, I’d killed him. Because I’d helped feed the monster that he was, and in the end, I’d simply run out of food. —Mel
Tristan
“NO.” I SHOOK my head, refusing to believe her words. My heart was breaking at her expression — she actually believed that to be true. “Lisa, it wasn’t you. He was sick.”
“I was sick,” Lisa said in a hollow voice. “A while ago you said that you can feed fear. He was my fear.” She swallowed. “I fed him on a daily basis, and when I finally stopped… he lost his mind. When he died, I walked away. And I wish I could say I regret it.” Her eyes flashed. “His death was the best thing that ever happened to me. And I’m not sorry.”
“Lisa.” Gabe moved in front of me. “Nobody says you have to be sorry that he’s dead. He was a horrible person.”
“You knew.” Lisa sniffed. “You all knew about Tristan?”
Gabe stared right through me, his eyes blurry, his face tight. He remained completely still.
Wes looked away and then down.
“Right.” Lisa moved out of the bed.
Nobody stopped her, but God I wanted to reach for her, to apologize, on my hands and knees if necessary.
When she walked by me, I grabbed her hand. “Lisa, please don’t go. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you. I couldn’t. What he did to you, I didn’t want to be a reminder. That was selfish. I know that now, but in my mind I thought I was protecting you.”
Lisa hung her head. “Protecting someone by lying about who you really are isn’t protecting. It’s the most selfish thing you can do, because, in the end, you’re still not giving a hundred percent to the person who deserves it the most. Please let me go.”
Hands shaking, I let her go. I let her walk out the door.
The girls hurried after her. Kiersten grabbed the keys out of Wes’s hands, and they were gone.
I slumped to the floor and banged my head against the wall.
“So…” Gabe groaned. “She’s going to hate us forever.”
“Or longer,” I added. Fiery agony pulsed through me with every heartbeat. My heart wouldn’t stop hurting; my entire body hurt. How was it possible for someone so sick and twisted like Taylor to keep impacting people’s lives even now? Two years after his death. I hated that guy, freaking hated him, but maybe not as much as I hated myself for not rising above it, for not telling her the truth she had deserved to hear.
“If it makes you feel better,” said Gabe, lifting the journal in the air, “you look nothing like him.”
“No,” I snapped. “What would make me feel better is the girl I could possibly love for the rest of my life not hating me until I’m eighty.”
Wes whistled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, what now?”
“I won’t stop trying.” I squared my shoulders. “I can’t.”
“Good.” Wes nodded. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Because a girl like Lisa doesn’t deserve a guy who’s willing to give up just because he screwed up so bad it might take a lifetime of apologies to get it right.”
“Are you guys trying to make me feel better? Because you really suck at it.”
Gabe and Wes shared a knowing smile with one another, though by their body language I couldn’t tell if they were going to attack me or were just exhausted with the days events.
“What?” I glared at both of them.
“Ah, it always comes full circle.” Gabe shook his head. “Wes has issues, then I have issues, and then look, Dr. Blake’s sitting on the floor looking like a kicked puppy.”
“I will kick you,” I said, then swore and pounded the floor.
“Keep fighting for her.” Wes held out his hand to me. “It’s in the fight that you prove your worth.”
“And if I lose?”
“If you’re really worthy, you won’t lose, and you won’t quit, even when it looks like you’re about to.”
I peered around Wes to look at Gabe. “He do this often?”
Gabe shrugged. “What?”
“Make you feel stupid and insensitive all at once but wrap it up in a really nice quote so you feel warm and fuzzy while he’s saying it?”
“No,” said Gabe with a snort. Then he shook his head. “I get no warm fuzzies when he Hallmarks me… just supreme irritation, because most of the time he’s right.”
“Bastard,” I mumbled.
Wes grinned. His hand was still held out to me. I took it and pushed to my feet as he slapped me on the back. “Just give her time.”
“Right now, we should probably talk about her security, since I highly doubt she’s going to want to come back here.”
“I’ll make her.” A muscle worked in Gabe’s jaw. “I’ll freaking tie her to my car and make her, damn it!”
Wes sighed. “Gabe’s more of a tough-love sort of guy.”
“Yup.” Gabe nodded. “We’re like good cop, bad cop.”
“Which makes me?” I asked.
“The villain.” Gabe grinned.
I, however, did not.
“He’s kidding.” Wes shot Gabe a glare and led me out of the room. “But really, every good story needs a villain. May as well be both the hero and the bad guy. That way you’re kick-ass.”
“Some heroes be weak,” Gabe said from behind us. “All the princes in the fairytales? They don’t even have pecs.”
“It disturbs me that you look at their naked chests.” I sighed. “On so many levels.”
Gabe just barked out a laugh, while I numbly walked through my own house. It felt empty and cold without her, and I knew I didn’t want to keep living that type of existence. I wanted her to fill it, and I wanted to share it with her. So I would fight. I’d fight until she got so sick of me she had to get a freaking restraining order.
Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t fight in that way.
But I’d be there for her… for as long as it took her to trust me again. I’d be there.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I thought everything was over with… until the threats started again. They reminded me of who I’d been, and the crappy thing about that reminder? Suddenly you realize that somewhere along the way, you never really changed, just exchanged one life for another without ever really dealing with the past. I’d pushed it so far back into my consciousness that I’d slipped into denial. And if there’s anything scarier than fear, it’s denial… because when you can’t face the trut
h, you’re left with nothing. —Lisa
Lisa
I DIDN’T TALK to the girls the whole way home. Kiersten kept trying to cheer me up while Saylor rubbed my arm. But I didn’t want them talking to me. I didn’t want them touching me. I didn’t want someone saying it was going to be okay. See, that’s the worst thing you can do to a girl. Say it’s going to be okay when she knows it’s not, when she’s knows that the only real ending to the story is heartache.
“Do you want us to stay with you?” Kiersten asked after pulling up to the dorms.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say yes out of habit, but I just wanted to be alone, and, in that moment, being alone totally trumped the fear that someone was able to sneak into my room. Besides, Jack hadn’t seen a thing and had Gabe seen anything on the cameras, he sure wouldn’t have let me go back. I made a mental note to send him a text in the morning. Right now, I was too pissed to even think about talking to him or Wes. And Tristan? Well, I was heartbroken.
Simply put, he’d encouraged me to trust again, and he’d made me fall for him knowing full-well that I was going to get burned. But he’d let me anyway. That wasn’t love. Love isn’t the expectation that eventually you’ll end up in heartache; it’s the expectation that you can fully trust another human being with everything and still hope for a happy ending.
He’d destroyed that by not telling me who he was.
I was never one of those girls who allowed emotions to control my actions I think that was why Taylor had chosen me in the first place so I wasn’t stupid. Part of me understood why Tristan had done it, but that didn’t make me feel any less hurt or devastated.
What kind of relationship could we have if he was constantly trying to protect me from things? That wasn’t love. That was control. And I was tired of control.
So tired.
“I’m good.” I waved at the girls. “Thanks though. I’ll see you later.”
“Lisa…” Kiersten gripped my wrist. “You don’t have to be alone… not tonight. You can come stay with us.”