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I huffed out a laugh that held no humour. “I should be asking you that. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“I needed it,” he admitted. “Fuck, it was overwhelming seeing you and Zali going through that. She was so still. It was as if she’d completely checked out. It broke something in me. I started all this. It’s all on me. But I was powerless to help. I was drowning.”
“Did this help?” I asked, breathing him in. His spicy scent drove me wild, but it was a comfort too. He was safety and strength. I still couldn’t quite fathom that I did that for him too.
“It did. You helped me push back the onslaught.” He exhaled, then ran his hand down my back. “You caught me when I needed it. You took over and made me feel something good. Then when I was ready, you let me regain my footing.”
“Good,” I replied, my voice cracking. I sucked in a shuddery breath and swallowed past the lump in my throat. I didn’t know why his words affected me so much, but they did. Hearing that he was struggling too was so fucking hard.
He held me tighter and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry I put you through this. You never would have known if I didn’t start digging. You would never have had to relive all this again—”
“I wouldn’t change it,” I mumbled against his throat. “We got justice for Asher. She’ll never hurt anyone again.” I clenched my jaw, breathing through my nose to steady my heartbeat thrumming in my veins. “I had the same jersey as Ash. We got them together.”
“I’m so sorry you lost him,” he murmured, carding his fingers through my hair gently.
“What else was in the bag?” I asked, almost too afraid to ask but needing to know at the same time.
“A half-made Lego set, a notepad with sketches….” His voice wobbled, and I held him tighter, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “He’d drawn all of you. They were good too. Lots of little details. He must have spent hours on each one. He loved you, Ry.” Tris sucked in a shuddery breath, and I couldn’t hold back my tears. I cried against his shoulder. “He loved you so much.”
He held me tighter, our naked bodies pressed together, the sweat still cooling on our skin. Our come was smeared between us, my cock long having slipped out of his hole. My tears dripped onto him, soaking his chest.
“I loved him too,” I whispered. “He was my best friend.”
“There was an urn in the bag. We have his ashes. You can say goodbye to him properly.”
I whimpered as my tears fell harder. We’d brought him home. We’d taken him away from that monster who’d hurt him and brought him back to where he’d be safe. We would cherish him and honour his memory. I didn’t have the words to thank Tristan for everything he’d done. He’d started this journey thinking Rosa was guilty. None of us anticipated finding her alive. But by proving us all wrong, he’d given us everything—the most valuable of gifts a person could bestow. He’d given us Asher’s remains.
He'd also given Ash a voice. He’d allowed us to give him justice, to avenge his death.
He’d empowered us to tell his story.
He’d given a dad, a sister, and a best friend the closure they never had before.
“Is Zali okay?” I asked when I’d finally controlled my sobs enough to speak.
“I hope so,” he whispered, his voice a rough rasp. “Ez and Flynn are taking good care of her.”
“Will you publish the podcast?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “How can I make you all relive it over and over again?”
“We’ll do it for Ash.” I lifted my face to look properly at him. “We tell his story and make sure the world knows what she did to him.”
“Zali’s dad has no idea of what we’ve found. I can’t blindside him.”
“I don’t want to tell him,” Zali interrupted from behind Tristan. She slipped onto the couch next to us and rested her head on my good shoulder. “But he deserves to know. So does the rest of the world. I want Tarnished Crown published. I want them to know what a monster she was.”
Twenty
Tristan
Iwas in the loungeroom in Zali’s yacht, pacing the luxurious space and taking it in. It was home now. Well, it was home as long as Zali, Flynn, Ezra, and Ryder were onboard. Things had been strained between us, though, and I hated it. But it was my insecurities at play, not anyone else’s.
Zali handed me a coffee. “That’s my job,” I chastised her. “I’m supposed to be looking after you.”
She perched her butt on the armrest of the couch and asked quietly, “Can we talk?”
“Of course.” I sat on the coffee table opposite her and placed the steaming mug on the coaster next to me.
