Shame (Ruin #3) (21 page)

The kiss was all aggression, all passion, all trusting, and, in that moment, I knew I was never ever letting her go.

Her mouth opened to mine over and over again, giving me intimate access into parts of her I wanted to taste, to explore for as long as she’d let me. My entire body was tight with the need to take her inside. Never had I wanted a girl so desperately. She moaned, tightening her hold around my neck, dipping her hands into my hair and tugging.

I pushed her up against the car, probably scratching it, not caring if it decided to all of a sudden break in half if that meant I could have her right then and there.

She arched her back as I plundered her mouth, my free hand moving from her head down to her sweatshirt. I slowly lifted it so I could expose her skin.

“Thank you,” she panted against my mouth.

My hand lingered as I pulled back and looked at her.

“Please tell me you aren’t thanking me for kissing you,” I teased. “Better yet, prove your thanks and get your mouth back here.”

Lisa smiled, a real smile, and released her legs from my hips, slowly and painfully sliding down my body. “For saying those things… for being you.”

Guilt whispered. I ignored it and pulled her in for another scorching kiss. “Anytime.”

“Drive.” She nodded. “We should drive before—”

“Before I take you upstairs and throw the keys into the lake? Yeah, we should do that.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The sirens were so loud my head pounded. By the time I reached my car, I saw more cars had pulled up, including a black unmarked vehicle. A gentleman stepped out, dressed in a suit and sunglasses — which was weird. I mean, it was close to midnight. I shivered, my hand on the ignition. If I drove off, I could get in trouble. But I didn’t care. He was gone, and I didn’t care. I felt nothing. Maybe that had been his plan all along — to get me to turn into an exact replica of him. Heartless, numb. —
Mel

Lisa

I
HIT THE ACCELERATOR
as we turned a corner and gasped as the feeling of adrenaline coursed through me. Adrenaline had always been bad. I’d associated it with the things Taylor had me do.

Because the God’s honest truth? When I first met him… it had been exciting, exhilarating. He’d had me start small, little things. It wasn’t like he’d just asked me straight up to ruin someone’s life. No, it had been small, little justifications I’d made in order to appease him, and after each justification had come an even greater reward. Someone older than me — rich, sexy, dangerous — wanted me and thought I was sexy. I’d never felt sexy. I was always too tall, too lanky and thin to feel sexy. My body was a mannequin, but Taylor’d made me feel like a goddess when he touched me — when he worshiped me. The least I could do was listen to him when he when he asked for tiny little favors.

And when I made him laugh or groan with excitement, I, in turn, had gotten excited because I was the cause. Only… after a while, I needed to do more and more in order to have that adrenaline rush. He hadn’t warned me that would happen and by the time I looked in the mirror and hated myself, it was like I no longer had a voice.

“What are you staring at?” Taylor came up from behind and wrapped his arms around my body. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m ugly.” I averted my eyes. “What I’m doing is ugly.”

“Ugly…” Taylor repeated, gripping my chin tightly in his hand, forcing me to look at my own reflection. “…is just a term people use to categorize things they don’t understand. Some days you’re ugly,” he whispered in my ear. “But those are the days I love you the most, because you’re at your worst. And isn’t that what true love is, Mel? When I can look at you in the eyes and say I love you, despite the darkness inside? Despite the ugly? See?” He grinned menacingly. “We’re perfect for each other, because I get you and you get me.”

I shivered, hitting the brake so hard that the car swerved.

“Lisa.” Tristan put his hand on my shoulder. “Sometimes it’s okay to go fast…”

“He was so confusing,” I whispered. “Like what he said to me always made sense, Tristan. It always made sense. I mean, it was like my brain was cobwebs, and he’d pull a bit away, and I’d feel better — but only for a while. Then the confusion would happen again, and he’d make it better. But it never lasted. And when I finally started questioning him, he turned on me. But it was like he expected it, like it was just another stage of our relationship. I felt… manipulated.” I shook my head at Tristan. “I don’t want to feel that way again, like I don’t have a voice. Like even my thoughts are being silenced.”

Tristan gripped my right hand. “I will never make you feel that way, Lisa. Nobody deserves to be silenced.”

My chest heaved like I’d just been jogging.

“Do you want to go back?” Tristan asked after a moment. “Because we really don’t have to keep driving fast…”

“He made all the good feelings shameful.” My voice cracked. “So no, Tristan. I don’t want to go back. I’m going to go forward.”

His eyes lit up as he leaned back against the seat. “Then by all means, beautiful, drive.”

All things considered, I’m surprised I didn’t get a speeding ticket. By the time we reached Tristan’s house, I’d been driving like a NASCAR escapee for the past hour. It had been years since I’d felt so exhilarated, so alive.

I parked the car, hopped out, and grinned, gliding my fingertips along the smooth red fender like it had just given me a gift.

“It’s yours.” Tristan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Whenever you want to drive it, it’s yours.”

I laughed nervously. “For a second there, I thought you were giving me a car.”

“Oh, I am.” He released me. “But I figured you’d say no if I just came out and said, ‘Hey, Lisa, take it home.’ So you can keep it here, but I think you’ve left your mark on it as much as it’s left its mark on you. It would be a tragedy for me to ever get behind that wheel when it’s meant for your body.”

Grinning, I turned around and threw my arms around his neck. “Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you should give people things that cost more than a nice house.”

He chuckled. “Of course it does. What’s the point in having money if you don’t get to spend it on the important things in life?”

“I’d be happy with a Ford Focus.” I kissed him softly on the mouth.

“Which is exactly why you get the Ferrari.” He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past my lips, before speaking again. “Because you’d be happy with a Ford Focus or a tricycle, or even a high five… and I think you deserve more than all three.”

“Thank you.” Heat raced into my cheeks as I stared hard at his chest. “For the ride.”

Laughing, Tristan pulled away and shoved his hands in his pocket. “Oh, Lisa, you really don’t want to say things like that to me, not when you look that beautiful, and not when my self-control already waved goodbye two hours ago.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Dinner?”

I twisted my hands in front of me, excited and nervous at the prospect of being alone with him a few more hours. “That depends.”

“On?” His smile was so sexy I almost moaned out loud.

“Your self-control.”

That sexy smile grew so wide I darn-near fainted.

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman…” He held out his hand.

I took two steps.

And then he added, “…until you ask me not to be.”

With a
whoosh
all the air left my lungs. I took his hand and squeezed. “Overconfident today, are we?”

“Hopeful.” Tristan tugged me into his chest. “Just really damn hopeful.”

With a lame laugh I pushed past him, staggering into the hallway, feeling drunk off the looks he was giving me, off the feeling he gave me by just being him. Not caring about who I was then, but who I was now.

“So…” Tristan placed his hands on my shoulders and led me into the kitchen. “…how about I cook, and you tell me one more thing.”

“One more thing?”

“That you miss — that he stole from you.”

Yeah, I about swallowed my tongue, because there were a lot of things he’d stolen the joy from, that much was true; but there was one thing in general that had hurt the most. He’d stolen my pride in myself, what it felt like to feel beautiful to a man. He’d stolen what a guy never had the right to steal — my self-confidence.

Tristan pulled out a pan and began rummaging around the kitchen. I chewed my lower lip while he reached for a knife.

“Sex,” I blurted. “He stole sex from me.”

The knife in Tristan’s hand clattered to the countertop. His entire body tensed as his fingers pressed into the hard granite — knuckles white. He swore violently before finally turning around and facing me. I knew he’d turned because I’d been watching his body — not his face, definitely not his eyes because eyes revealed too much. And to see his pity? Well, I wasn’t really sure I could handle that, wasn’t sure if my confidence would suddenly crack, and I’d burst into tears.

“Lisa,” Tristan barked. “Look at me.”

Slowly, I lifted my chin.

Tristan’s gray eyes were blazing. I wasn’t sure if it was hatred or something else… something far more possessive. “No guy has the right to take that from you.”

I nodded, my throat swelling with emotion.

“Just like no guy has the right or power to give it back,” he whispered, his voice tinged with a bit of sadness, maybe even regret. “Listen very carefully… you are the only one with the power to take it back, but you have to make a choice.”

“I suck at choices.” I played with the empty glass in front of me, twirling it between my hands.

“No you don’t.” Tristan walked around the bar. I could feel the heat of his body behind me as he placed his hands on the counter on either side of me. His lips touched my ear. “You give power to it when you feed the fear. When you keep his memory alive.”

“You think I want that?” I snapped, trying to push away from him. I was trapped by his hands instantly.

“No.” He kept a firm hold on me. “I think you believe you can’t help it, but you can… you can help it. Don’t give him that satisfaction. Don’t feed his power by keeping his voice, the voice of a liar, in your head.”

Tristan removed his hands and walked back around the counter and started cooking again, while I sat there, stunned, a bit hurt, and confused. Why couldn’t he just make it easy and sleep with me? Why couldn’t he chase the demons away It would work. It would have to work.

Then again, what would happen in the morning? When I was all alone again…

I’d hear Taylor’s voice.

His scorn, mockery, contempt.

And the fear would be back.

But how did you banish something so cemented in your psyche? It was like he was still alive in my head, regardless of what I did.

“Go for a swim,” Tristan said. “Clear your head.”

“Swim?” I repeated. “You want me to swim?”

“Either swim or over-think things until you give yourself a headache. Use the hot tub or lap pool. I have spare suits from parties I’ve thrown, and I’m pretty sure one of them will fit you. Take the trail down to the pool. The bathhouse is on your right… and relax.”

“Relax.” I almost laughed out loud. “Right.”

“Professor’s orders.”

“To put on a bikini while he cooks for me?”

“Exactly.” Tristan flashed me a sideways grin and kept working.

“Fine.” I pushed away from the barstool and slowly made my way down the trail. Maybe he was right; maybe it would help.

Besides, the last time I’d swim was at one of Taylor’s pool parties; may as well swipe one more thing he ruined off my list.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I drove away that day…from everything. I went home, packed all my stuff and bought a ticket to Seattle. I didn’t even take my car—I’d just buy one up there. I needed to escape so desperately that the money didn’t matter. My parents were just happy I was smiling again—which is sad considering someone had to die in order to put it back on my face. —Mel

Tristan

C
UTTING VEGETABLES WHILE
so pissed off you couldn’t see straight? Probably not the best idea I’d ever had. I was such an ass, but I’d needed to get rid of her. It was damn-near impossible to hold my anger at bay, and all I really wanted to do was slam my hand against the counter until either
it
broke or the counter broke.

“Damn it, Taylor.” I hated him. I’d never felt such hate for another human being in my entire existence; it was overpowering, exhilarating, terrifying.

I dropped the knife and dialed Wes’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Anything?” I barked.

“Whoa, you alright?”

“Would you be alright?” I turned around as the sound of water splashing hit my ears. At least she wouldn’t hear our conversation; at least I’d had her leave before I lost complete control and scared her shitless.

“No,” Wes finally said. “I wouldn’t be, and sorry, we haven’t found any medical records. Nothing. I have my PI working on it. Gabe has his contacts working on it, but… it’s like he never existed. Though we did finally catch a break on the website.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. I should have the information to you by tomorrow. Just do yourself a favor.”

“What?” My eyes were trained on Lisa’s body as she swam across the pool.

“You gotta tell her man.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No. I can’t.”

Wes sighed heavily, the puff of breath amplified over the phone connection. “Look, I’m not saying she’s going to take it well.”

“No shit.”

“But…” Wes continued, his tone making it clear he wasn’t receptive to an argument. “…can you imagine if she found out later? If she found out that you kept this epic secret from her?”

“That’s what you guys are for… to make sure she doesn’t find out. It will only hurt her more, and I’m done with my family hurting her. Done.”

“What exactly… are you doing then? Really. I’m curious.”

“Giving her exactly what she needs.”