Calming down, I check my phone for a reply from Dylan, but he hasn’t even read the message. Sighing, I press record. I don’t know how much I’ll get, but anything will help. Shoving it into my skirt’s back pocket, I return to the living room, where Tristan is Frenching Verna, smearing her fresh lipstick. With her pale skin and red hair, she resembles a tragic clown.
Hearing me shifting and clearing my throat, Tristan snaps his attention to me, which irks Verna. Tristan pinches Verna’s left nipple as he checks me out again and says, “I thought maybe you’d ditched us.”
“Nope. I’m here to lock and load.”
“That’s my girl.” Most certainly not. He nods toward Verna with a nauseating grin. “Why don’t you kiss her? That’ll warm me up. Or maybe you can be in the middle, like a reverse Oreo, and we’ll be the cream. I can’t wait to taste your cookie.” Holy fuck, I’ll blow his head off.
Revolted, I avoid showing it. “Verna, could you wait for us in the bedroom? Turn on some music and shut the door. It’ll set the mood.”
“Why? You’re not getting him all to yourself, Natalia. You may boss me around at work, but not here.”
I hold up my hand as I shake my head. “No way. I just…I’m new at this. Give us a few minutes.”
Tristan nods toward the hallway. “It’s okay, babe. She can warm me up, and then we’ll be in to play.”
“Fine. Just as long as you don’t come with her. You promised you’d give it to me.”
“I’ll be wearing a rubber. I’m not creaming your pussy. No pill, no fill.” I cross my arms so I don’t pistol-whip him.
Verna huffs down the hall, and I suspect she’ll poke a hole in the condom so he’ll fertilize her garden. They deserve each other for eternity. I hope Dylan didn’t do that, as he suggested.
Needing to stay on Tristan’s good side, I fake interest in this debacle. “What about orgasms?”
Tristan smirks as he drags his finger along my cheek, making me flush with anger. “What about them, Natalia? I promise I’ll make this good for you. Whatever you want. If you didn’t bring a side dish like last time, I’ll munch your pussy.” I wish I had a machete too.
“I’ll pass on that. It does nothing for me.” Remembering Dylan eating me, I suppress a moan. Fuck, he was so good at everything. “And I won’t share a condom with her.”
“Okay. I’ll wear another.”
I bite my lip, growing more nauseous, thinking about what he wants to do with me. “I’m still afraid of getting pregnant.” No kidding.
“You’re not on birth control?” I shake my head, and he frowns, crossing his muscular arms. “You let Rook cream you, or was that a lie?” I guess I can’t use the faux allergy. Damn it.
“Not a lie. Just an accident.” Nope.
“I can come in your mouth or your lips and let it drip down your chin. So hot.” Hard pass.
“I don’t swallow.”
Tristan clasps his hands behind his head like I saw him make a drunk driver do on the side of the road. “Are you serious? What will you do? Anal?”
“Only if you want my foot up yours.”
“I call the shots. This is my deal.”
“These are my terms.”
“What else do you want me to do? I don’t want a kid, either. But hey, Rook may already have knocked you up when he shot his wad. Do you even know where he’s been? You might have an STD.”
Hugely impatient and offended, I snap, “Do you want me here or not?”
Dropping his hands, Tristan rolls his eyes with an annoyed sigh. “No butt stuff, no cum lozenge, and no clam trough.”
I frown and sidestep to a cushioned bench. “I don’t know what any of those are, so hell no.”
“And I’ll wear a new jimmy hat with you and do my best not to spill my seed in your clutch. Anything else? Please say no.”
“Uh…” I shake my head, revolted and confused. “Wait. I need to go first. You promised Verna you’d come with her.”
“That bitch? She’s way too clingy. She’s not who I want.” He bends to kiss my neck, and I shift, so he won’t discover I have his gun. I’m still at a disadvantage. He whispers, “Don’t tell Verna, but she’s only here to watch us fuck. It’ll be hot.”
With an irritated groan, I mutter, “Tristan.”
Raising his head, he says, “Damn, I want you. No more stalling.” Before I can argue, Tristan grabs my hand and pulls me to the couch. When he sits, he pats the cushion beside him. “Sweet, sweet Natalia. Thinking of your open pussy is already getting me hard.” I glance at his crotch, and I wish I hadn’t. He grins at my transparent horror. “I know you want it. Why don’t you help it along?”
Bile rises in my throat as I reluctantly sit down. Tristan shoves down the front of his sweats, and his cock jerks to attention. At first, I’m speechless that I’m here, gawking at Tristan Prescott’s uncut cock. He grabs my right hand and places it on his shaft. “Lube me up with your mouth.” When I stare at my frozen hand on his thick shaft, he laughs. “Loosen up, babe. Don’t jack me dry.”
Taking a couple of calming breaths, I remove my hand and raise it to my mouth. Spitting into my palm, I grab his cock again and begin to stroke. Tristan sighs. “Fuck, Natalia, that’s so good, but I need to feel you. I want to finger you next.”
He leans his head back against the couch as I stroke, and I fight the urge to scream as music plays in the bedroom. When Tristan moans, I’m on the edge of hysteria. I switch hands and reach behind me to pull the pistol from my waistband and dig my nails into his dick.
“What the fuck?” he squeals, and I jam the barrel into his expensive haircut. “Let go! Wait, is that my gun?”
“Shut the fuck up and listen. It’s my turn to talk.”
Tristan tries pushing my hand off his dick, but I bear down. “Jesus Christ! It’s like fucking a barbed wire!”
“Exactly.”
“Stop!”
“Let me think about it. Um, no. I will not have sex with you today, tomorrow, or ever, not even if my life depended on it.”
“Goddamn it! Did you do this to Rook, too?”
“Nope. I let him cross the finish line with a smile.” I push the gun harder against his skull. “Why’d you lie about killing Omar? I know Hayes did it.”
“Shit! I was kidding!”
“Ha. Ha. So funny.”
“Your fucking nails!”
“I thought you wanted me to jack you?”
“Not the fuck like this!”
His dick softens more, so I drop his dick and laugh as Tristan hisses several curse words. I sit back, pointing the gun at his head and giving him space. “Pull up your pants. I don’t want to see that shit. And don’t try anything, Tristan. They’ll have to mop up your brains off the damn floor,” I taunt, throwing his jibe about Dylan back in his face.
Side-eyeing me as he slightly moves away from me, I follow, and he says, “I’m not trying to piss you off more, but I doubt you know how to handle a gun.”
“I know, right? Maybe I’ll start shooting anywhere.”
“I’m warning you. I can easily take you down, even when you’re holding my gun.”
“Like Dylan took you?” I sneer.
“He stunned me, but we’re trained for it, Natalia. It’s almost a fair fight with him, but I’m a hell of a lot stronger than you.”
“Then do it. I have an itchy trigger finger.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Just give me my gun, and you can go.”
“That’s not how this will work.”
“It’s not loaded.”
I watch his hand covering his crotch and smile. “Wrong. You see, I’m quite familiar with the Colt M1911. It’s a classic. Nice choice. Anywho, I only need one .45 bullet to get the job done.”
“How in the hell do you know that?”
I giggle. “You’re so cute!” I mock him again, using his own words.
He glances at me. “You won’t kill me. You don’t have it in you.”
“I gue
ss that’s what happens when a woman like me snaps. I don’t care if I live or die, Prescott. I have nothing left to lose.” I lean closer to him and whisper, “You want to call my bluff, motherfucker?”
“No. I believe you. But all of this because of a damn Malone?”
“I want the video.”
“Wh-what video?”
“The one you claim to have of Dylan and me screwing. Remember?”
“I told you I don’t have it.”
“Because it doesn’t exist.”
“There are cameras there.”
“I will fucking pull this trigger and kill you with your own gun—the ultimate fuck you for a cop.”
“Okay! I noticed you both were gone at the same time. I know a couple of guys in security at the banquet hall. I saw video of you two going into a room together. And then you both left, just a minute or so apart. There’s no camera in that room, but I gathered what you were doing in there.”
“We talked.”
Tristan laughs. “Right.”
I shift the gun against his head. “Come again?”
“Ouch. Sorry. Okay. Okay. There is no sex tape of you and Rook.”
“That’s better.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say other than I’m sorry. Can you give me my gun now?”
“Fuck off. You ruined my life.”
“I did not! I was offering you sex! How’s that ruining it?”
“I didn’t want to have sex with you. I got everything I needed from Dylan. I wanted to marry him. But no, you had to go and threaten Dylan’s livelihood and kill his dream. You knew we were in love and that I would protect him. You took advantage of that, you asshole.”
“No. I thought you were fuck buddies. I swear to God. I didn’t think he was that important to you. I’m sorry.”
“You even dug into our records. You find anything worth dying over?”
“Rook’s IQ is higher than average, but he didn’t get good grades in high school and didn’t go to college. His mother is an assistant district attorney, and his dad is a mailman. He got juvenile probation at seventeen, first for slashing a teacher’s tire and then for underage drinking. I told you, he has problems.” Dylan is a super nerd with a criminal history but wants to make a difference? We were a perfect fit, and then I broke us.
“So? That tells me nothing about why you did all this.”
“I wanted to dig up dirt. I noticed you two flirting at Dinah’s, and then you blew me off at the banquet when I’ve wanted you since high school. You know, since you were our class valedictorian and all. Smart is sexy, right?”
“I didn’t want you, though. You were a snotty dickhead who drove a fancy car, fucked trashy girls, and bragged about it to your equally douchey friends. Not impressed.”
Tristan shifts, but I go with him, and he whines, “Okay. I’m sorry. Why’d you skip graduation, anyway? That one kid with the lisp and receding hairline gave a speech, instead.” I avoided the unavoidable ridicule of Art Perry’s kid grabbing center stage. Such a dirty nerd.
“Who cares? It’s your fault the love of my life left California. I broke his heart to save his career because of you. I should end you.”
“Natalia, if you shoot me, Verna is in the other room. She’ll hear it. You’ll go to Chowchilla’s death row for the capital murder of a cop.”
“Awesome. Maybe my dad and I can be pen pals.”
“Please don’t kill me. You’re not ruthless like your dad. You’re a good person. Too good for me. It’s easy to see why Rook fell in love with you. I’m sorry I took that away from you.”
“Me too.” Inhaling, I stand as I lower the gun from his head but still watch him. “Call Dylan. Apologize to him.”
“Seriously? Now?”
“That a problem?”
“I guess not.”
Picking up his phone, I ask for his pin and dial Dylan’s number since I know by heart. I put it on speaker and hold out the phone. “Don’t fuck around, Tristan. You owe me.”
“Okay. I know that,” he petulantly argues before clearing his throat.
“Come on!” Verna yells from the bedroom.
As Tristan waits for Dylan to answer, I yell, “We’ll be in a minute!” Never.
Reaching Dylan’s voicemail, I hear his voice and whimper, making Tristan apologetically frown at me before he leaves his message. It’s quick, to the point, but should surprise the fuck out of Dylan. However, before I end the call, Tristan says, “Rook, don’t get your panties in a bunch. Natalia didn’t cheat on you, so don’t hold it against her.” I end the call, and he asks, “Okay?”
I nod, and Tristan sighs as I unload the bullets. “My father was a cop and a career criminal. My godmother is a police sergeant. Did you really think I don’t know my way around a gun or ten? I watched him clean his guns, and she taught me everything I need to know to protect myself. I can even load a rifle faster than her.” I just never had the nerve to stand up to my monsters until now.
Tristan shifts, visibly shaken. “I seriously underestimated you.”
“You did. You know, Lynn gave me a Smith & Wesson for my twenty-second birthday. I haven’t touched it since then and didn’t want your blood all over it.”
He loudly gulps. “You really were going to kill me?”
I shrug and toss him the unloaded gun. “Watch Verna. She’s worse than barbed wire.”
I storm out the door, sprinkling the bullets into a bush. With my shaky hand, I pull out my phone. I only got three minutes if I need it. Better than nothing.
As I go to my car parked on the street, I think about what Tristan said. Dylan is crazy smart and didn’t tell me. Well, I never told him I was smart, either. There is probably a ton we didn’t know about each other, but we won’t have that chance to discover our similarities.
I came here to blast Tristan for everything, but I told him the truth— snapped. I did, however, take control of the situation. With his damn gun.
My heartbreak and the gravity of what I did hits me. Just as I pass Tristan’s Mercedes, I throw up, spewing my morning bagel all over the hood.
Lynn always told me I had good aim.
Chapter 30
“Is this all you’re going to do when you’re not working, busting a nut with sit-ups and push-ups?”
With my thirtieth push-up, I mumble, “Yep.”
“It’s been a fucking month, and you still won’t say jack shit about what happened.” Jordan kneels beside me on the floor as I keep going. “But I have to say, you definitely brought the guns. Look at these!” She grabs my sweaty bicep, making me stop.
“Could you not?”
“And you’re bitchy as all hell. You won’t talk, you mope, and you toss and turn in the guestroom all fucking night. You got fired, but you got a new job. What’s the damn problem that you can’t tell me, your magnificent best friend since the dawn of time?”
I frown as I stand and go to her small kitchen, grab a glass, and fill it with water. She stalks after me, crossing her arms and making weird clicking noises. Swallowing a mouthful, I turn to her, incredulous. “Can I help you?”
“Don’t go pulling that attitude with me, Dylan McGrath. You may be a bigshot cop now, but you’re still the same ass face I grew up with…just with better packaging.” I roll my eyes, and she smacks my stomach. “Hey! I’m giving you a roof over your head until you get your grouchy ass out of here.”
“And for the hundredth time, thank you.”
“I mean, you’re kind of cramping my style, showing off your six-pack and gun show act. I think I broke my fingers, hitting you. The handcuffs are nice, but you don’t bring them around. Sour puss.”
Chugging the rest of my water, I leave the glass on the counter and dodge her to leave the kitchen, but she chases after me. “Come on, Dylan. You work nonstop. This is the first time I’ve seen you in two weeks for more than ten minutes, and it’s almost the most I’ve seen you since shacking up with me.”
“I’m not shacking up
with you.”
Jordan blocks the hallway, stretching out her arms. “Sit. Let’s gab.”
“Not now.” My phone buzzes on the counter, and I’m caught between suffering through Jordan’s inquisition or seeing another text from her. When I glance at my phone, Jordan ducks underneath my arm and flies to the counter.
“What the fuck, Jay?” I try to grab my phone, but her eyes stab me in a spree.
“Why in the hell are you talking to this bitch?”
“Give me that.”
She twirls out of my reach, angering me more. “Uh-uh. Spill.”
“I don’t know. She’s been texting me a while now, trying to butter me up.”
“Is it working?”
I shrug as I reach for my phone, but she shoves it into her stretchy pants. “Goddamn it, Jordan!”
She giggles. “I kind of like that buzzing.”
“Shit. That’s disgusting. Keep it.” I turn, but Jordan grabs my arm.
“I said sit, Dylan Stuart McGrath! Don’t make me hurt you!”
I again roll my eyes but sit. Cocking my head, I’m irritable. “What?”
Jordan sets my phone on the table, but I’m not touching it right now. “You had a woman in Cali. You mentioned her but wouldn’t tell me a damn thing. Why?”
I shrug. “Nothing to tell.”
She shrieks, “You’re going to hell, mister!”
“I’ll save you a seat.”
“Oh, you better. Tell me about her.”
“I don’t want to.”
She looks at me pointedly. “But you will.”
I sigh. “She cheated on me, Jordan, with my ex-roommate, who’s also a cop. So, can we just—”
“What’s this randy bitch’s name?”
“Don’t call her that.”
“Why do you find the worst women to fuck?”
“I’ve had two, not a long record.”
“Maybe if you had a longer cock…”
“And I’m out.”
I stand, but Jordan snaps her fingers like I’m a damn dog. “Your narrative is lacking. You were gone for a fucking year and a half.”
“We weren’t together long, but I feel like we’ve known each other forever.”
Rebel Rook: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 31