He looks away like the sight of me physically hurts him.
The elevator deposits us near a restaurant in the back of the hotel. Tristan turns and leads us out the first entrance. His car is parked on a side street.
We get in, and the second my back hits the leather seat, the tears start burning behind my eyes and then course down my cheeks. I’m shaking, trying like hell not to break into a fit of sobs as Tristan drives. I don’t care where we’re going, because being alone with Tristan again floods me with relief like I’ve never known.
But he doesn’t reach for me. Doesn’t say a word. He’s cold, and I’m desperate for his warmth after what I’ve been through.
More tears fall. “You hate me.”
“I’m nowhere close to hating you.”
We’re back on St. Charles, and Halo is only a few minutes away. I can feel it before we park that he intends to leave me here. I tighten my grip on the door handle.
When he parks in front of the house, the silence is brutal.
“Tristan…” My voice is watery, but I will myself to be stronger. “I’m sorry.”
He’s quiet for a long time, staring out the windshield, his expression taut with unspoken thoughts. For all my wanting independence, I’m ready to run away with Tristan. Anything to end this distance between us.
“Will you talk to me, please?” I beg.
He shakes his head slightly. “You did what you felt you needed to do. I did the same thing,” he finally says.
“But you’re upset with me.”
He pulls his lips tight. “There are some things I need to take care of, Isabel. You’re going to be on your own for a while. I think you should get out of New Orleans. I don’t trust that Martine can keep you safe here. Not now.”
“What do you need to take care of?”
He avoids my question with more silence. I wish I could reach into his mind and draw out all the things he’s thinking.
“They’re bringing me back in,” he says.
The air leaves my lungs. My limbs turn cold.
“Jay?”
“I agreed to go back if they gave me intel on Boswell. That’s how I found out about Kolt.”
“But you can’t go back. You said you’d stop taking jobs.”
“What does it matter?” He pins me with a cold look. “Let’s face it. You can’t be with someone like me.”
“That’s not true.”
“You said it yourself. You want your life back. Pretty soon, you’ll be able to have it. Just lie low for another few weeks. I’ll make sure the heat is off, and Lucia can figure out how to bring you back to life. Mistaken identity or something.”
My jaw falls. I can’t believe what he’s saying.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you can’t change who you are any more than I can change who I am.” He closes his eyes a moment, breathing out through his nose. “What you did today was brave. Stupid, but brave. Martine was right about one thing. I underestimated you. But you’ve already seen enough carnage to last a lifetime. You have a lot more to offer this world than being some bastard’s punching bag to bait him into a corner. You did what you had to do to end this. Now it’s over and you can go home.”
“I don’t want my old life back if I can’t have you.” Fresh tears roll down my cheeks.
He sees them and looks away.
“I have to go back. It’s not negotiable. If I bail, they’ll come after you and we’re back to square one.”
I can’t believe it. He sold his freedom. For mine…
“Where will you go?”
“I’m going to New York. I’ll check in from there.”
“You can take me with you.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not safe.”
“Is it any safer leaving me here?”
He hesitates. “Martine has connections. She can hide you someplace else until the coast is clear.”
His complacency about leaving me behind ratchets up my panic.
“Tristan, no. I shouldn’t have left you in DC. It was a mistake, and maybe this whole plan with Boswell was a mistake too. But what you’re saying is crazy. You’re being rash.” I’m talking fast, nearly spinning out with racing thoughts.
“Isabel… You don’t need to apologize. You just have to accept this for what it is. We both do.”
I’m tempted to beg, but I know it won’t change his mind. He’s made it up. He made it up days ago when I felt the shift between us.
So I decide to fight dirty, because that’s what he would do.
“If you’re going back to Jay, then maybe I will too. I know where to find her.”
He shoots me his cold, silver stare. “You stay the fuck away from that place. Do you hear me?”
“Then take me with you.”
He grits his teeth. “Goddamnit, Isabel. I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t keep my hands off you. And that’s not good for either of us.”
“I think it’s just fine.”
“Jesus, Isabel, you really think you can live this life? You think you can love an assassin? Someone who kills other people for a living?”
He gestures between us, as if he’s disgusted that I could even consider it.
“I already do.”
He grips his hands on the steering wheel. “You don’t belong in this life,” he says quietly.
“I belong with you, Tristan. We can figure the rest out. I promise.”
Frustration and desperation swim in my veins when he shows no signs of giving in to my pleas.
“Tell me you don’t love me,” I challenge. Because even if he can’t say it… Even if it’s strange and foreign… I know he does.
He looks out the window, his jaw tense. “You know I can’t do that, Isabel.”
Several agonizing seconds pass before our gazes lock. I meet his steely stare with a determined one of my own. I won’t give in. I won’t give up on us.
“Fine,” he finally says.
Fine? My heart does a pole vault.
“You’re hell-bent on ruining your life, one way or the other, right? Whether it’s with me or throwing yourself into absurdly dangerous situations. So let’s see how long you last.”
I’m hurting and wrung out, but his relenting gives me a surge of hope. Because as long as we’re together, I can try to change his mind.
I smile even though it hurts. Tristan is an unwelcoming wall of tension, but nothing can stop me from leaning across the car and kissing him square on the mouth. The contact soothes my battered nerves.
“I love you, Tristan.” I say it against his lips and pray he doesn’t push me away. Because the distance he wants to put between us will destroy me. Truly and completely. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, it will.
When our mouths drift apart, he feathers his fingers over my aching cheek. His gaze travels slowly along all the places he caresses.
In his reverent touch, I see his heart. His resentment. His confusion. The love he doesn’t know how to accept.
“Get your things,” he says. “It’s going to be a long drive.”
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Also by Meredith Wild
The Red Ledger
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More Information on The Red Ledger
The Hacker Series
Hardwired
Hardpressed
Hardline
Hard Limit
Hard Love
The Bridge Series
On My Knees
Into The Fire
Over the Edge
About the Author
Meredith Wild is a #1 New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling author. After publishing her debut novel, Hardwired, in September 2013, Wild used her ten years of experience as a tech entrepreneur to push the boun
daries of her “self-published” status, becoming stocked in brick-and-mortar bookstore chains nationwide and forging relationships with major retailers.
In 2014, Wild founded her own imprint, Waterhouse Press, under which she hit #1 on the New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists. She has been featured on CBS This Morning and the Today Show, and in the New York Times, the Hollywood Reporter, Publishers Weekly, and the Examiner. Her foreign rights have been sold in twenty-two languages.
For more information, please follow Meredith Wild at:
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The Red Ledger, Book 3 Page 11