by Sky Corgan
“Yeah. But can we please take a car this time?” I cringe a bit, feeling guilty. “I really don't like the motorcycle.”
“Chariot it is, then, princess.” His face brightens, and I'm glad he's not upset that I'm not fond of the motorcycle.
***
As he drives me home, things seem to be returning to normal between us. I've relaxed a lot since I'm not around Shawn anymore, and Tristan acts like he's completely forgotten what he saw. Maybe I can get out of this unscathed after all. I doubt Shawn will talk to Tristan about the shower. Then again, I still don't know him very well. Who knows what his motives are.
By the time we pull up in my driveway, it's rather late. I hate goodbyes, especially with Tristan, which makes it hard to want to leave. A million thoughts are going through my mind. A million reasons not to get out of the car.
“I hope you had a good day with me,” Tristan says.
“I always have a good time when I'm with you.” I twist in my seat to look at him.
“I'm glad. You make me happy. I hope there are a lot more good days in our future together.” He smiles that charming smile I adore.
“Me too.” A blush spreads across my cheeks.
“I'll text you tomorrow.”
“Alright.” I unbuckle my seat belt apprehensively, grasping at straws to make conversation, so I won't have to leave. “Tristan.”
“Hm?” He gives me a tired look.
“The girl in the pictures in the sitting room. She was your ex-fiance, right? I mean, that's what Shawn told me.” I bite my bottom lip, knowing it's a sensitive subject. I am curious about her though, about the things Shawn said.
“Yes.” He leans back in his seat, staring out the window. The subject obviously makes him uncomfortable.
“You loved her a lot, right?” The more I talk about it, the more guilty I feel for even bringing it up. Surely, I could have come up with something better than this.
“I did.” He nods. “She was my world. The center of my universe. I haven't really been with anyone since. Not like this.” He glances over at me and slides his hand on top of mine, curling our fingers together.
His words make me swoon. He's comparing me to his ex—a girl he almost married. That must mean I'm pretty special to him.
“I'm sorry things didn't work out for you.” I try to offer him my sympathy, though I know it sounds weak. Why shouldn't I be happy that I'm here with him right now and she's not? It's human nature to offer condolences though.
“It's just one of those things.” He looks away, suddenly becoming distance.
“What happened to her, if you don't mind me asking?”
“I do mind you asking.” His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye. It's obvious that the subject touches on some deeply wounded part of him.
“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.
We make not-so-idle chitchat while we wait. She teases me relentlessly about the hundreds of things I'm embarrassed to talk about, asking about Tristan's penis size and fishing for details about our sexual activities. By the time Shawn's black sports car pulls up into the driveway, my cheeks are bright pink.
“Holy shitake, that's a nice car.” Ethel's focus snaps to Shawn's car.
“You should wait to see what gets out of that car,” I whisper with a smirk, as if Shawn could actually hear me through the glass and the distance between us.
When Shawn steps out in full business attire, Ethel hoots. “Hot damn! Yeah, I want that one.” She nods excitedly at me, and I can't help but laugh while I pull myself off the floor and smooth out the wrinkles in my dress.
I'm at the door before he even has a chance to ring the doorbell. Ethel peeks over my shoulder, grinning ear-to-ear as she waves at him and says, “Hi.”
Shawn casts a disinterested glance at her before turning his attention to me. “Are you ready?”
“I guess.” My happiness melts as I realize I'm about to be whisked away into an awkward situation.
“You guys have fun.” Ethel makes a strange face at me as I walk out the door and follow Shawn to the car. I can't tell if it's concern or jealousy, but it's the last thing I need to worry about right now.
“That was your sister?” Shawn asks as we pull out of the driveway.
“Stepsister. And she thinks you're hot.” Might as well throw it out there.
He grunts in reply.
“Where are we going?” I stare across at him. If he's nervous, I can't tell. I certainly am though.
“Back to the house.” He doesn't even glance at me.
“Is Tristan there?”
“No. He's on a business trip.” He shakes his head lightly.
“Can't we go somewhere public instead?” The idea of being alone with Shawn makes me uncomfortable.
“The things I need to talk to you about shouldn't be shared with others.” And that's the end of conversation until we get back to his house.
***
“Would you like something to drink?” he asks once we're inside.
“Water, please.” I offer him a soft smile of appreciation.
“Wait in the living room for me.”
He leaves me without another word, and I continue toward the living room. To my surprise, the large open space has been redecorated. Where there was once an area left bare for dancing, there's now furniture, a living room suit that matches all the other décor in the house.
I sit down on the sofa and wait for Shawn, staring out the large windows that overlook their backyard. The sun is setting, but I can see it better than I did the first time I was here. It's so breathtakingly beautiful.
“Here you go.” Shawn appears in my peripheral vision, handing me a bottle of water. I take it from him, trying not to seem too startled when he sits right beside me. There is plenty of seating around us. It's not necessary for him to be so close.
“Thank you.” I scoot a few inches away from him.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” He smirks.
“Honestly, yes.” I avoid looking at him. Right now, I'm extremely uncomfortable.
“That will change over time,” he assures me.
“What did you want to talk about?” I cut to the chase.
He takes a deep breath. “How did you enjoy your first taste of how Tristan really is?”