Page 54 of Wild for the Knight

We’ve known each other for years, we played college soccer together. I visited him at The Beach House all the time. He knew my order, he’d laugh with me, and acted like he belonged in our world. The friendly neighborhood bartender. The guy I never saw coming.

I let out a slow breath, staring at him through the dull throbbing of my head. “Why am I here?” I’m tired, and my ankle is killing me, and my head isn’t far behind.

Tristan smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “You Wilders don’t break easily, do you? I found that out with your brother and that stupid Kara woman.” What, what the hell does Greyson’s ex have to do with anything?

“You had something to do with Kara?” He nods. “Why?”

“Remember when my mom died, and I told you she had a dying wish?” he asks as he circles me like a shark in the water. Confusion courses through me. What the heck do Kara and I have to do with this? “She loved your dad. She wouldn’t shut up about him. Do you know how it felt to grow up in the shadow of people who weren’t even in my family?”

I shake my head, a hollow laugh escaping my throat. “This is about your mom?” I shift, pain so sharp I fight to keep from heaving, my eyes still locked on him. “About what? Some revenge mission because he married my mom and had kids?”

“My mom loved your dad the whole time they were in college together. She’d tutor him so he could keep his spot on the hockey team. And then along came your mom, and he suddenly didn’t have time for mine anymore.” Something dark flickers in his expression. “She died believing your father destroyed her life. Her life would have been perfect if she had been the one to marry good ole’ William Wilder,” he says, his voice deceptively calm. “And do you know what her last words were?” He takes a step closer, the moonlight casting shadows across his sharp jawline. “Ruin his life like he ruined mine.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, my fingers curling into my palms. Nails biting into my skin so hard that it takes the focus off the pain in my ankle. “I knew the way to ruin your dad was to ruin you or Greyson.” He shrugs, walking to the other side of the room.

“Nikki failed with you the first time. Then, Kara failed in Washington, but when Greyson came back to Tampa, he was so broken, I thought I’d finally done it. He’d lose it, quit hockey, and break your dad's heart the way he broke my mom's. But then Hannah came along and put him back together.” His lip pulls up at the corner as he spins on his heel and puts his hand behind his back. “I figured after seeing you and Abby hate each other the way you did, she’d help me destroy you.”

He squats in front of me, and it takes everything in me not to swing. “But then you had to go and fall in love. Which, again, ruined my plans, so I was forced to adapt.” The realization hits harder than the crash did.

I force a breath, my voice tight. “She had nothing to do with this, did she?” My freaking temper, God if I would have just listened like she was begging me to, maybe I wouldn’t be here. Maybe I’d be curled up in bed with her, figuring this out together.

He chuckles, dropping his head to the side. “Didn’t stop you from throwing her out like yesterday’s trash, though, did it?” My breath seizes, my mind flicking to all the things she was trying to tell me earlier. Be careful. My vision blurs as I continue to struggle to breathe. She didn’t betray me. She wasn’t working with my ex. She wasn’t feeding them information. She wasn’t lying to me.

The taste of iron fills my mouth as my teeth cut into my cheek. I messed up. Tristan smirks so deep his dimple pops. It’s like he knows exactly what’s going through my head. Like he’s enjoying watching every second of me realizing my epic mistake. “See, that’s the beauty of all this,” he drawls. “You hit the detonate button all by yourself.”

I swallow hard, my throat constricting with every passing second. My heart hammers against my ribs. A pounding sound has all three of us whipping our heads toward the door. He growls, standing as he reaches for something behind his back.

“Tate!” No. No, she can’t be here. Her voice is raw, panicked, and then suddenly she’s in my line of sight. Soaked from the rain, her hair wild, and the pieces that have fallen from her braids cling to her face. Her eyes scan the room, landing on me and widening to their limits when she sees the state I’m in.

Tristan turns, letting out a heavy sigh. “Ahh, there she is. Our Knight in shining braids.” His villainous laugh fills the space, but she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even look at him as she crosses the space between us. She drops to her knees beside me as her shaking hands gently cradle my face.

Her eyes move over me, assessing like they do when she’s looking for injuries, when they land on the cuts and my ripped clothes, her mouth falls open. “What did they–”

“I’m fine,” I cut her off, a blatant lie. I’m not fine, not even close. I haven’t been since the moment I pushed her away. Her throat bobs, fingers moving to the sides of my neck, grounding me in a way I’m not worthy of. I close my eyes and sink into this moment with her, only for it to be ruined by the clearing of a throat.

“Touching, really. But you two aren’t going anywhere.” Abby finally gives him the time of day, and that’s when I see it, the fury, the determination, the absolute rage in her eyes.

“I’d really love to see you try and stop us,” she snaps.

Chapter 30- Abby

Who does he think he is? You two aren’t going anywhere, my ass. It’s then that everything I’ve been taught the past decade plays like the end of Boondock Saints, where the detective dances around the crime scene with his frilly music. My hand moves so fast that he doesn’t have a chance to move. Striking his Adam’s apple, he falls to his knees in front of me. Perfect, that's just what I wanted. I grab the back of his head and pull it toward me at the same time that I bring my knee up to meet his nose.

Crack.

Never has that sound been so comforting. Blood splatters on both of us as he crumples into a heap of limbs on the floor. I turn to Primadonna, who has handcuffs in her hands. Geez, she’s an amateur. Snatching them from her, and quickly attaching one side to her wrist as I push my elbow into her neck, backing her against the column to our right. Her head hits the concrete with a soft thud, she moves to feel her head at the perfect time, allowing me to grab her free hand and attach it to the other side of the cuff. Now she’s stuck there.

I can’t stop the smile from forming as I bring my face inches from hers, “Here’s the thing, Maria. If you threaten the people I love, I won’t stop until that threat is gone. So, you and your wannabe soccer star boyfriend over there, enjoy your time in this musty cave. Because the second we make it outside, the police will be on their way in.” Her eyes widen as the realization that this isn’t a fight she’s going to win sets in.

“I protect what’s mine, which is exactly why he had no idea you were behind this, even though I’ve known and watched your little plan play out for months now.” Her jaw drops as though I couldn’t possibly have known the truth.

“See, you miscalculated when you thought I was the easy way to get to him. He may have been your target, but you became mine the second you inserted yourself in my life. I promise this won’t end well for you.” I turn on my heel and walk toward where Tate is sitting awkwardly on the floor. When I reach him, I look over my shoulder and say, “I hope you like the color orange.”

I grab Tate’s hand, noticing how he’s wincing and trying not to put any weight on his foot. “I’m carrying you.” Is the only notice he gets before I squat down in front of him, allowing him to wrap his arms around my shoulders so I can piggyback him out of here.

His soft chuckle tickles the side of my neck. “I probably shouldn’t be as turned on as I am right now, but it’s pretty hot that you can carry me like this.” I wish I could laugh, but all I can think about is the vitriol that coated his words when he spoke to me earlier.

The complete shutdown as he made up his mind before he even gave me a chance to talk. Not to mention the way he cut me out the first time, right after I told him I loved him. That was weeks ago, weeks of having this hole in my heart. Weeks that I’ve been walking around feeling like a piece of me was physically missing.