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Chapter Three
ISABEL
I can’t stop thinking about Tristan. More specifically, the look on his face when I asked about his scars. His expression was more than haunted. It was tortured.Like whatever caused the damage was happening again in that moment.
Yes, he was magnificent to behold. Painful even, standing there like a Greek statue molded from every fantasy in my head. And that brief feel of him against me… My body still buzzes from the dense heat of him, but all of it melted away in the flash of agony at my question.
I force my attention to whatever Pierce is saying about… something. Something boring and self-centered that involves only him, of course.
“Are you even listening?” he asks, waving his hand in front of my face. I hate when he does that. I’m not a child.
“You got an A on your tort exam. Got it,” I say.
His eyes narrow at me.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been a bitch for the last few days. Is this about that animal living with you?”
My chest tightens with anger, but I know from experience lashing back will get me nowhere.
“He’s not an animal.”
And I’m not a “bitch.”
I clench my fist in my lap, wishing I was brave enough to say it. One day I will. One day I’ll throw his toxic words back in his face, just… not today.
“People like him are the reason we have to take half the classes we do. That fucker is straight-up human waste.”
“Don’t call him that,” I say, my nails arching into my skin. “You don’t know anything about him.”
Fear bubbles in my chest at the cold look on his face. He’s already upset, but I couldn’t stop the words this time. Tristan is a lot of things, but not that. Not even close. He’s—
“I don’t need toknowanything abouthimto know he’s not worth your time. In fact, I don’t like you living with him. You need to find somewhere else to go until he’s gone.”
“What? You can’t tell me—Ah!”
I wince at the pressure on my wrist as Pierce yanks me across the table. I slam into the surface, knocking over his water glass.
“What the hell?!” he shrieks, jumping to his feet.
We’re both wet as I push myself up and slink back into my chair. My wrist throbs, along with my side from the impact of the table. Pierce took the brunt of the ice water, though, and I shift nervously in my seat.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hisses, wiping at the soaked stain on his pants. “Itoldyou not to let that criminal move in!”
“It’s Kim’s apartment. I didn’t have a—”
“Find a new place to live,” he snaps, storming from the kitchen.
Anger boils inside me as I push through the front door. Fury at Pierce for how he treated me. At myself for letting him and being too scared to fight back. At Tristan for causing the entire confrontation in the first place. Things were fine before he arrived and stirred things up. Okay, maybe notfine, but better. Pierce has never physically hurt me before. Yelled, insulted, and scolded, sure, but never physical violence.
Once he cooled down, he apologized for being an ass and even gave me an impromptu shoulder massage while we watched one of “my”shows he hates. He seemed sincere in his promise that it was a fluke and would never happen again, that it was Tristan’s fault for making him crazy. He couldn’t stand the thought of some “predator” living with me and potentially hurting me. Pierce calmed down further when I promised to start looking for a new living situation.
But once I was alone and headed back to Rosewood, our weak truce frayed in my head. I don’twantto move. I can’t afford another “situation” anyway. I know I’m not covering my full share of the bills because Kim never upped my payments, even when everything increased for her. It’s because she wants me to stay with her. She’s my best friend, practically a sister. It’s just…
Tristan.
He looks up from the couch when I enter, quickly returning his attention to whatever he’s reading. Reading? I don’t remember him reading back in high school. Then again, I also don’t remember him giving a crap about me and how I lived my life after he rejected me, so I guess a lot has changed.
Just not enough. You still have feelings for him.
