Shame (Ruin #3) (16 page)

I rolled my eyes. “Your ego is just fine, I’m sure.”

“Always.” He smirked. “Now, up you go.”

“Up? Up where—?”

“There.” He pointed to a dock, where just beyond was a small houseboat.

“It’s like
Sleepless in Seattle.
”

“Rules…” Tristan stopped me on the middle of the pier, his hand brushing my lower back. “…for our night of anonymity.”

I looked up into his eyes and tried desperately not to get lost in their gray depths, but how was I supposed to keep myself from leaning forward when his body was so warm? His expression both dangerous and inviting. “I’m listening.”

“No phones.” He slid his hand around my backside, carefully lifting my phone from my back pocket, his fingers brushing bare skin across my back in the process.

Goose bumps broke out on my flesh, and I fought the urge to let out a little moan. “Fine.” My confidence was wavering already.

“No pictures.”

“Kinda hard without my phone.”

“True.” He squinted at me and crossed his arms. “No promises.”

I about choked on my tongue at that one. No promises. Neither of us could make a promise. For some reason it reminded me of the games Taylor used to play with me, the twisted ones that ended up hurting other people and me in the process. I’d always been powerless against them, it was a reminder of my old life, a reminder I didn’t need in an abandoned parking lot. I shivered. “Fine, no promises.”

“And finally…” Tristan leaned forward his body towering over mine. “…to keep things interesting… absolutely no touching.”

With that, he walked past me and into the house, leaving my body hot, my heart hammering against my ribs, and my mind whirling as to what the heck he had planned other than a mean game of checkers.

Against my better judgment, I followed him into the dark house and shut the door behind me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Take a pill — feel better. Take a pill — feel worse. Take a pill — feel nothing at all. Regardless of the pill, you take it to gain some sort of reaction. In a way, the website was like another type of pill for me. It gave me the reaction I needed to keep going… until one day, it just didn’t. That was the day things fell into place for me, when the plan was finally set in motion, the stopwatch clicked on, and I finally felt at peace. –
The Journal of Taylor B

Tristan

T
HE HOUSE WAS
completely dark. All I could see was the outline of the path to the kitchen, and only because the blinds hadn’t been pulled. The door shut softly behind me.

I knew it was Lisa, knew that she had followed me, not knowing what I had planned for her went for longer than just one night, but several nights. Because I’d already decided with my own sick justification to have her, even if she wasn’t mine to have, even if he’d had her first, even if he’d destroyed a part of her I’d probably never be able to get back.

The room was so charged with sexual tension it was almost hard to breathe, and when she stepped up behind me, her clothes brushed my back. I almost slammed her against the wall and just said screw it. It’s not like my moral compass had been actually working as of late. And she woke up something primal in me, something that I hadn’t ever felt. I think I despised it as much as I craved it.

Sighing, I hung my head and let the seconds of charged silence trickle by.

“It won’t be easy,” I whispered. “Letting you in.”

“It won’t be easy,” she repeated. “Keeping you out.”

With a smile, I turned and looked down at her wide blue eyes, the same eyes that had seen tragedy at his hands. Pain, ruin, shame. The only thing I could do was be the exact opposite of what he’d been to her.

But it meant fighting against every urge I had to selfishly take what I wanted and leave come Christmas.

If I did that, I’d be just like him, and I wanted to be different. It was so tempting to burn that damn journal. To throw away my past, to live the lie, to make it so she never discovered the truth. Hadn’t I lived my entire adult life in that way? Right along with my parents?

What was one more dirty secret between lovers? Friends? Enemies?

Maybe if she let me in, she’d divulge the information I needed anyway. It was always the fear that kept me pursuing the truth. The fear that I would end up like him; the fear that, in some ways I was him. The Jekyll to his Hyde.

“So, this rule…” Lisa folded her arms in front of her and leaned forward. “…does it apply to objects?”

“For not being such a rule follower you sure are eager to learn what they are,” I said smugly.

“For being such a controlling tight ass you sure don’t seem to be in a rush to explain them.”

I smirked. “You think my ass is tight?”

“No.” She swallowed and looked down.

“Denial’s so sexy…” I teased. “It’s okay to look all you want, Lisa. You just can’t touch, remember? A night of being anonymous… a night where it’s just you and me. But technically, we’re strangers and things…” I leaned in so close I could almost taste her. “…are about to get very intimate.” Taking a step back, I lifted my shirt over my head and threw it on to the ground then turned away from her and slowly slid out of my jeans. At her gasp, I made my way over to the fridge where I knew I’d find some chilled wine and pulled it out. I placed two glasses on the counter, then I turned to face her.

Her eyes were wide. I loved that look on her face, the desire evident in her heavy breathing. So I did what any logical man would do: I poured us two glasses of wine, brought her one, and whispered, “Strip.”

She reared back as if I’d just asked her to jump into the Sound naked. Then her eyes narrowed. Slowly, she took off her shirt followed by her jeans. I tried not to appear aroused, but the woman had hands-down the sexiest body I’d ever seen in my entire life. Blood roared in my ears as she finally faced me in nothing but a lacy black bra and fire engine panties with the words
Selfie
, on them.

“I wish,” I murmured looking down, arching my eyebrows.

It was too dark to see if she was blushing, and honestly, if she were, I would be shocked. After reading some of the things in that diary of Taylor’s, it was hard imagining her blushing or getting embarrassed.

“Let’s go.” I nodded toward the fireplace and carried the wine bottle with me.

She followed, not speaking.

I flipped the switch on the fireplace, causing it to roar to life, then grabbed a few blankets from the couch and positioned them on the floor. I carefully wrapped one around her, careful not to touch her, and then sat down next to her.

“I’m confused,” she said. “I thought—”

“You thought a night of being anonymous meant moonlight and masks…” I interrupted with a shrug. “But being anonymous is so much more than that. Clothes have a way of masking us, defining us, making us appear sheltered, unequal, depending on where it was bought. Tonight, you’re in your most vulnerable state, next to being naked, with an almost-complete stranger. We’re going to be intimate without touching, but only with each other, and when the night ends, we’ll go our separate ways with no regrets.”

“Because we didn’t sleep together?”

“Because regardless of how naked you get, Lisa, your shield will always be up until you choose to take it down. Sleeping around, partying, drinking — they’re all forms of protecting yourself. It’s not freedom. You are never your most vulnerable until you’ve removed every lens you allow people to see you through. Some have one. Others have several.”

She took a generous sip of her wine and laughed, but it was fake. “And what makes you think I have so many lenses, oh wise one?”

“Did I say you did?”

She was silent.

“And I think it’s probably time we talked about that elephant in the room.”

“What?” She snorted. “Me, being almost naked, having wine with my professor on a Monday night?”

“Oh that,” I teased and gave her a wink. “We’re anonymous, remember? Nobody knows we’re here.”

“True.”

“I told you a secret… now it’s time to trade.”

The glass shook in her hand.

“Why were you crying tonight?”

“Stress.”

“Fine. I’ll ask differently.” I shifted so I was closer. “I’m sitting with Lisa right now… the first lens… the one that’s strong, late to class, great kisser, hard worker…”

She stared hard at the flames in front of her.

“So let’s try a different angle… the girl you used to be, Melanie Faye, why was she crying tonight?”

And just like that I was given a vision of what Taylor had become so obsessed with, what had enraptured his attention and completely destroyed his sanity. Instead of being afraid, Lisa tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. The light that had once been there — completely gone. And in its place utter darkness. Sweet, beautiful, addicting darkness.

I’d been wrong.

It wasn’t the light that had drawn him.

But the beckoning call of the dark.

And like an idiot, I’d fallen before I knew.

“I would say screw you, but I imagine you’d just think it was an invitation, you sick bastard.”

“You resort to name calling when you get cornered?”

“Depends. Do you resort to seducing your students when you don’t get what you want? I knew it was you, the guy I bumped into at the student center. You called me Melanie then. You’ve known this whole time.” She leaned forward the blanket dropping from her body, giving me a tempting view of her breasts.

“I was always curious.” I changed the subject and looked away, hoping she’d drop the fact that I’d called her Mel the first time I saw her; it was out of shock. “How does one compartmentalize so well?” I glanced back at her. “They don’t. they just repress until the other part dies. You know it’s similar with dissociative identity disorder. Shrinks used to suggest that each of the personalities decide who the strongest would be, and then, in what they thought was a stroke of genius, had the strongest personality kill the rest of them, leaving only one.”

Lisa’s eyes flashed.

“Funny how that never works.” I sighed. “Just like repressing the person you are never works when you try to replace it with someone so out of this world vanilla and boring. I imagine you’re both things… weak and insecure, paired along with being sexual and demanding. Your greatest fear is letting go. Am I right?”

She tried to stand, but I held up my hand. “Sit.”

She sat, her jaw clenched tightly.

I continued, “At least for tonight, be both people.”

“No.”

“Yes, damn it,” I growled. “Or are you that afraid of your past?”

“You know nothing about my past!” she screamed, her voice almost rattling the windows. “Stop psychoanalyzing me! It’s bullshit! You know nothing!”

“So, tell me something.”

Her chest heaved; she glanced at the fireplace and shook her head. “When you spend your teen years being so horrible, so terrible, so… bad…” She flinched. “…the last thing you want to do is be anything like that person you were, or even the things associated with it.”

I nodded. “You don’t really want to be a teacher, do you?”

She said nothing.

“What would you do with your life if you have a choice?”

“Who says I don’t?” she snapped.

“You do,” I argued. “So tell me, what would you do?”

“Everything.” She sighed longingly. “I’d do everything. I’d live. Drive fast cars again and forget the bad memories with them… maybe that’s it. I’d do every single thing I did when I was younger, only I’d make it better so I wouldn’t associate everything that used to be fun with pure evil.”

“You’ve come to the right place.”

“Real life isn’t a movie, and I think we already established you aren’t part of Mulan’s family, so I highly doubt that means you hail from the good fairies.”

I watched the torture flicker across her face. She was a girl who used to push limits, just like Taylor, only he’d ruined every single thing that could have been good. I had a vision of him finding joy in that. He always did find joy in the perverse of taking something so pure and tainting it. With Lisa, I was sure he’d seen the dark and thought…
finally someone who can join me in my misery, someone I can alter forever.

And he had.

“One thing,” I asked. “Name one thing that was ruined for Melanie that Lisa wants to do.”

“Drive a Ferrari,” she said quickly. “You’re not Obi-Wan. You don’t get to know why. Just know… it was… ruined.” Her face paled. “But driving fast used to be one of my favorite things to do. It felt… free.”

“I’ll toast to that.” I lifted my glass and clinked it to hers.

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me.” She took a slow sip of the wine. “You have a Ferrari.”

I leaned forward so tempted to lick the liquid from her lips. “If I didn’t, I’d buy one just to see you let go.”

“Is this about me or you, Tristan?”

I smiled — a genuine smile. “It’s always been about both of us, Lisa. I’d think you’d know that by now. Besides, I was always the good son, remember? I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. I think it’s about time.”

“How?” she whispered, her lips pulled tight like she was trying not to reveal any sort of emotion. “How do you see so much when I try so hard to hide it?”

I wanted to tell her the truth right then, tell her I knew more than I’d let on, tell her I was sorry and ask her point blank what she knew. Maybe she’d forgive me; maybe we could move past the pain together. I glanced up at her again. She was shivering even though she was in front of the fireplace.

Gaining her trust was the only way to gain her knowledge.

Falling for her hadn’t ever been part of the plan, but I imagined it was too late. I was caught in the spell of her. She intrigued me, like a puzzle I was struggling hard to figure out. I knew once I did, I’d be rewarded with knowing the most amazing person in the world.

So I answered as honestly as I could. “Madness…” My voice dropped low. “…recognizes madness.”

She gasped, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not crazy.”

“Crazy people think everyone else is crazy, and they’re sane. Believe me when I say I know you’re not crazy. I’m talking about a different type of madness. The kind that follows you into your dreams, only to haunt you when you’re awake. A madness that sucks joy out of every good thing in life and makes you feel guilty about smiling. Madness…” I repeated slowly. “…in its definition is going in circles, repeating the same process over and over again, knowing you’re going to get the same result but refusing to stop anyway.”