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I release an exasperated sigh and emerge from my hideout to slump back on bed. Tristan is in his business suit. Was he working this late? Workaholic freak.
Well, it’s not that I’m any different.
He sits beside me, smirking. “You’re losing your touch, little brother. Go back to training.”
“I’ve been awake for forty-three hours, put yourself in that situation and let’s see where that gets you, old man.” I stretch my limbs. Every joint aches to sleep. “What are you doing here? You said you would give me as long as I wanted. Are the guards following me everywhere in secret not enough?”
“I agreed to your experimental treatment option.” He studies my face with razor-sharp eyes before they soften. “The least you can do is to accept the guards. I won’t leave you alone.”
“Instead of the guards, how about taking care of The Pit?” I crack the burning muscles in my neck. “They’re becoming a pain.”
“That’s one of the reasons why I’m here.” He smiles, triumph shining in his dark eyes. “Dylan found an informant. We figured out the identity of one of Hades' partners who plotted our kidnapping. Victor Black.” I frown and Tristan’s grin widens. “He’s the same Black who was supposedly Father’s friend and also a former member of the Noble Community. He was kicked out of the community by Uncle Arthur for being a weakling. Since Hades' partners are being revealed, many assassins are defecting — including Team Zero. Black has gone into hiding like a rat, but I have a lead that will guide us to him soon.”
I yawn. “Well, at least they won’t interrupt my sleep anymore.”
Tristan chuckles. When it subsides, his serious expression takes over. “When are you returning? We own a medical company and a hospital in case you have forgotten. You can continue your therapy there if the family business doesn’t interest you anymore.”
My lids flutter close. “Maybe.”
Silence. For a moment, sleep whisks me to the other side. Somewhere where only dreams of Mae exist. But Tristan’s monotone voice had to ruin it. “How long do you plan to keep on running?”
My eyes shoot open. “Huh?”
“You’re well aware of what I’m talking about.” He tilts his head to the side and leans back on his arms. “You’re only fooling yourself if you think you’re protecting her this way. We both know you’re better now. Face her. Talk to her. You owe her that.”
Sharp needles constrict my throat, but I shout. “Shut the fuck up, Tristan. Why do you think you know everything, huh?”
“I don’t.” He arches an eyebrow. “But I know she didn’t stop visiting me every week in the past six months.”
I sit up, sleep evaporating, leaving me wide awake. “Mae returned to the estate?” Why would she? Didn’t she cut her wrist to leave it?
He nods. “Asks about you every time and begs me to let her contact you. No matter how much I tell her you’re not coming back, she keeps knocking on our door, fishing for any information. Her eyes get sadder and lifeless the more I see her.” Tristan gives a sly smile, linking his hands behind his head. “Poor girl.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I grit out.
“I didn’t think you were ready.” He straightens, voice deep, like Uncle Alexander’s when no one should mess with him. “But now, you are. Or would you rather see her with another man? Erasing you out from her existence? If that’s the case, then your wish might soon come true. She has a lot of male friends who I’m sure would love to have her.”
My jaw ticks at thoughts of Mae with another man. I did picture that option when I let her go but now that the fucker Tristan put it that way, it does hurt. More than a bullet wound, more than days of training in cold water. I clutch my chest as if I could remove the pressure. It’s like I’m having the signs of a heart attack.
“You are a Rhodes.” Tristan points a finger at my chest, his voice stern. “Put up a fucking fight for what you want.”
Tristan’s words strike me like arrows. Prick. He knew exactly what to say.
I’m not unselfish. I’m an arrogant bastard. Why did I think I can change that is beyond me. I must’ve hit myself on the head.
My cousin stands. “I’m getting married. You better make it.”
“What?” My mouth hangs open. Tristan? Married? “Since when did you have such plans?”
His lips curve in a cunning, sadistic smile. “Since it’s interesting.”
I smile back. I almost feel sorry for whoever Tristan will marry. Nothing good comes out from whatever Tristan finds interesting. When he thought Grandmother’s garden was interesting, he plucked all the roses, cut them to pieces and threw them into the pond. That’s his idea of interesting.
Tristan walks to the door. “Let me know when you plan on returning.”
I jump to my feet. “Now.”
Screw sacrifices. I’m selfish.
