BetweenTwoBillionairesCompleteStripped (17 page)

“
I'm . . . I'm
sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” I shake my head.

“
No. It's
fine.” A vein in his neck bulges from stress. I've killed his
good mood in the span of one sentence, and I feel horrible for it.
“Shawn will probably tell you eventually anyway, so I should
just come out with it.”

“
Shawn hasn't
told me anything. He just said you guys don't usually talk about it.”

“
Then why did
you ask?” he snaps, jerking his hand away from me.

My eyes grow wide.
For the first time ever, I'm seeing what Shawn warned me about. He
wasn't lying. There's a darker side to Tristan that I never really
fathomed could exist. Even though Shawn warned me about it, I
honestly didn't believe him. It's hard to picture sweet, loving
Tristan getting upset about anything. But he's lashing out at me now;
I know he is.

“
I was just
curious is all.” I hold up my hands, trying to show him that I
meant no harm. “You don't have to tell me anything you don't
want to until you're ready. I don't plan on going anywhere.”

“
If I told
you, you would leave.” He can't even look at me now. His
breathing his grown irregular like he might start to hyperventilate.
I've never seen someone go from being calm to distressed so quickly
in all my life. It's rather worrisome.

“
Hey, calm
down. I'm not going anywhere,” I do my best to sound sincere.

“
I better get
it out now. Whether you find out now or later, it makes no
difference.” His eyes go narrow and I can see the tears lining
them. This is so intense. Almost too much for me to handle. Is it
really that bad?

“
Tristan, it's
okay. There's—”

“
It's not
okay,” he barks at me. “I killed her. I killed Kelly. Now
get out!”

Between Two Billionaires

Part Three

Table of Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

CHAPTER ONE

“
Psycho.”
Ethel stares at me wide-eyed on the bed.

“
Psychos,”
I correct her, feeling confused and emotionally exhausted from
pouring my heart out to her. Now she knows everything. She knows
exactly what happened with Tristan at the party, how he came into my
job and asked me out on a date, how he wooed me into giving my
virginity to him. And she knows about Shawn too.

To be honest,
everything was perfect until Shawn stepped into the picture. It's
like his presence cursed my relationship with Tristan. I know that's
not true though. Tristan had problems before Shawn came back from his
business trip. He's just really good at hiding them.

Saying he killed
Kelly though; I don't believe it. Shawn told me not to believe it.
And I'm smart enough to know that when someone says something like
that out of raw emotion, it's usually an exaggeration. Yes, she
probably died from the result of some action of his, but I highly
doubt he out-and-out murdered her.

“
I don't get
what's going on.” I draw my hand up to my forehead as if it
will keep the oncoming headache at bay. My eyes burn from tears that
have been lining them since Tristan yelled at me to get out of his
car, though they miraculously haven't spilled over yet. Normally, I
would be a mess right now. Perhaps Ethel's distraction is the only
thing that saved me.

“
I don't even
know what to say to you, Sarah.” Ethel shakes her head. “This
guy sounds messed up to the extreme, and like he's trying to knock
you up.”

I certainly can't
forget that. Aside from being emotionally off, Tristan hates to pull
out during sex. I refuse to believe it was an accident both times.
Maybe he is tying to get me pregnant. Both him and Shawn brought up
kids. It's an odd thing for men to bring up in conversation. They
typically avoid it like the plague. Something is definitely going on.

“
It doesn't
matter anymore. It's probably over.” My shoulders slump.

I made a mistake by
hitting a nerve with Tristan. I asked the question that shouldn't
have been asked. I knew better than to inquire about how Kelly died.
Shawn told me they don't talk about it. It was way too soon for me to
bring it up. I was just curious. Oh well. You know what they say
about curiosity. Instead of killing the cat though, it destroyed my
relationship with Tristan.

“
What are you
going to do?” Ethel asks.

I shrug. “I
don't know.”

The wound is too
fresh. My mind is stuck on the angry look on Tristan's face. Did I
ruin things with him? He said he was afraid I wouldn't want to be
with him anymore, and yet in the very next breath he pushed me away.
I'm not sure what to make of it.

“
Well, the guy
obviously has baggage. You just need to decide if you're willing to
deal with it or not.” Her expression is soft with sympathy. I
know she thinks the fact that Tristan is rich makes it worth dealing
with his baggage. He has a lot of if though. More than I could have
imagined. His parents died in a plane crash, and he was raised in
foster care. Then his fiance died. He's rightfully messed up. I'm
just not sure I can fix him.

My mind flits back
to all the romantic moments we've shared: the delicious food he's
prepared for me, dancing in the living room, feeding ducks at the
park. He's practically perfect—was practically perfect. Such a
wonderful man on the surface, though something dark lies beneath. And
from what Shawn said, this isn't the last time I'll see it if I stay
by Tristan's side.

Of course, that all
hinges on if he even wants me anymore. He seemed awfully mad. I just
hope he's going to be alright. He was practically hyperventilating
when he peeled away from the house and left me standing there
dumbstruck and hurt. I wonder if he even regrets it.

“
I'm tired.
It's been a long day.” I gently try to indicate that I need
some space.

Ethel stares out
into the distance. “I can't believe he didn't get upset that
his brother was in the bedroom with you.”

“
I can't
believe he yelled at me.” The tears well up again. It's
definitely time for her to go.

I stand and walk to
my chest of drawers, putting my back to her as I rummage for a
nightshirt. Thankfully, she takes the hint. She pulls herself off my
bed and leaves the room without another word. Our moment of bonding
is over.

I get dressed for
bed and then lie there in the dark, thinking of everything that has
happened since I met Tristan. It's hard to analyze someone you still
don't know very well. All I do know is that he's kind 99% of the
time. That should be all that matters.

***

Around noon the
following day, I get a phone call from a random number. As usual, I
let it go to voice mail. Nine times out of ten, the number belongs to
an annoying telemarketer trying to sell me an extended warranty on my
car or telling me about the new government health plan. If I'm really
unlucky, the call isn't automated. Either way, it's nothing I want to
listen to.

I go to work as
normal, trying to keep my mind distracted from thoughts of Tristan.
Even though I know he probably didn't intentionally mean to hurt me,
I'm still hurt. Being yelled at isn't my favorite thing. Maybe I
deserved it though for bringing up such a sensitive subject.

Either way, I can't
think about that now. I have to focus on work. Have to keep a smile
on my face and pretend like everything is okay and act like I love my
job. It's not the worst job in the world, but I'd still rather be
going to school.
Soon
, I tell myself.

I keep my phone on
silent, and sometime throughout the workday my mom calls me and
leaves a voice mail. After my shift is over, I pull my phone out of
my pocket and listen to her message. I think about deleting the other
one without listening to it, but curiosity gets the better of me, and
I hit the play button. To my surprise, the voice on the other end of
the line is Shawn.

“
Sarah,
hey. It's Shawn, Tristan's brother. Tristan told me about what
happened the other day in his car. I told you we don't talk about
that for a reason,” he pauses. “Anyway, he feels really
bad about it. I figured that perhaps you and I could get together and
discuss some things. You have my number now, give me a call.”

Short, sweet, and to
the point.

I stare at my phone,
my mind racing. Is Shawn some kind of go-between for Tristan? It's
odd how I always hear the bad stuff from him. I am curious what he
has to say though.

I wait until I get
home and change before I call Shawn back. He answers on the second
ring. “Hello?”

“
So
Tristan really does feel bad about kicking me out of his car.”
It sounds harsher than it needs to. I was really hurt at the time
though.

“
Yes,”
he hesitates. “I'm guessing this means you're open to talking.”

“
Why
didn't Tristan call me himself?” I lay back on my bed, staring
up at the ceiling.

“
He's
embarrassed about how he acted.”

“
He
should be. That was rather dramatic.”

“
Are
you going to see me or not?” irritation fills Shawn's voice.

“
When
do you want to get together?” I try to keep my emotions at bay.
Talking to Shawn puts me on pins and needles, especially after what
happened between us in the bathroom.

“
When's
your next day off?” He relaxes a bit.

“
Tomorrow.”
I lick my lips. They feel especially dry, though I'm not sure why.

“
I'll
pick you up at six then.” Shawn hangs up before I have a chance
to respond. Jerk. He didn't even ask if I had plans. The guy is an
arrogant prick, putting himself before all others. Except Tristan. He
seems to care a lot about Tristan. Or does he? I'm so confused.

All night and the
next day, I fight the urge to call Shawn back. I don't like the idea
of him picking me up. I don't want to be in a car alone with him. My
fingers also itch to contact Tristan. Wouldn't this be more easily
resolved if he spoke to me himself? I don't understand why we have to
play these games.

By the time four
o'clock rolls around, I'm already getting ready. It feels like my
first date with Tristan all over again, except this time, I'm doing
everything early to distract myself from thoughts of the pending
conversation. There's no excitement to see Shawn, only dread. He's
dangerous. It's a thought that plays through my mind repeatedly. The
image of him and I in the shower together, the way he overpowered me
and held me against the wall. He didn't touch me, but he wanted me.
And sickeningly, I wanted him too.

I put on a white
blouse and a purple tulip skirt with a light-blue belt. I match the
outfit with white stockings and purple flats and pull my hair up into
a high ponytail. Ethel's red lipstick makes a reappearance on my
lips. She's home this time, and when she sees me walk out of the
bathroom, she whistles. Thank God, she's not pissed off.

“
I
hope you don't mind that I borrowed it.” I point to my lips.

“
Girl,
that lipstick looks fabulous with your pasty ass skin. I'm guessing
you and Mr. MoneyBags made up.” She arches an eyebrow at me.

“
I'm
meeting with his brother.” I blush, realizing how scandalous
that sounds.

“
The
one you were supposed to hook me up with?” Her expression goes
deadpan.

“
We're
just going to talk.” I shake my head shyly. “He's going
to tell me what's going on with Tristan.”

“
Psychos.
What, the guy can't fight his own battles?” She rolls her eyes.

“
He's
sensitive.” I try to make it sound like a good thing.

“
Pussy,”
she huffs. “Well, at least I'll get to see this other beefcake
you were telling me about. If things work out with you and Mr.
Sensitive, I still want you to hook me up.”

“
You've
got it,” I laugh.

She follows me to
the front door, and we sit on the carpet in the sitting room staring
out the window together, waiting for Shawn to pull up. It's been a
while since Ethel has been a bitch to me, I realize. If being with
Tristan helps to keep the peace between Ethel and I, then maybe that
alone will make it worth dealing with his baggage.