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“Tristan!” Isabel cries when she sees me. “Thank god.”
She’s a mess as she throws her arms around me, but the second I feel her warmth, the horror of the last few hours melts away.
“I’m okay,” I say, resting my lips against her hair. Just her scent soothes the ache in my soul.
“I was so scared,” she says in a shaky voice.
Me too.
I pull her tight. Everything in me wants to tell her it will be fine, but that was the whole point of this. Everything won’tbe fine. Everything will never be fine for me. I feel my fortress walls slipping as the adrenaline wears off and the reality of my situation settles in its place.
“I’m gonna shower,” I say, gently extracting myself from her arms.
But she won’t let go of my hand. Huge hazel eyes search mine in the dim light. Something isn’t right.
“Where’s Kim?” I ask, my blood going cold.
Isabel looks away, and I stiffen.
“Where is she, Iz?” I ask in a harder tone.
“She’s with your father. They’re discussing her situation.”
“Hersituation?”
But I’m not confused. This is… Fuck!
I pull away from her and clasp my hands on my head.
“We had to do it,” she says in a desperate voice. “We had to tell Kyle the truth so he would help us. And he did. We didn’t even know where you were or who took you this time. We’re going to find exculpatory evidence and clear you. This has to stop, Tristan. We have to fix this!”
I stare straight ahead in numb silence. I don’t even know what to think, what to feel or do. My eyes sting from exhaustion and god knows what else as I clench them shut.
“I need to shower,” I mumble, starting down the hall.
It’s the only certain thing in my spiraling brain.
“Tristan, please. We had to!”
I nod but don’t turn around. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it doesn’t even matter anymore.
I rip back the curtain to turn the water on. My Shelton’s uniform feels like a joke as I peel it off. It seems like days, not hours, since I waited tables in a hilarious attempt to have a normal life.
I sense Isabel in the doorway as I step into the water. I know I should be processing it all, sorting, strategizing, seeking revenge, but I’m so damn tired. Tired of living. Tired of fighting. Tired of being whatever I am.
Cool air hits my back, and I twist around to see Isabel climbing into the tub behind me. Her naked body is as artistic and perfect as always, but I’m even too tired for that. I face forward again and tilt my head toward the warm stream. It feels so good, so safe in here where everything makes sense for a few minutes. Warm water and soap. That’s all that matters in this moment.
Smooth arms snake around my waist, and I close my eyes at the pressure of her against my back. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything except tighten her hold around me. We stand like that for a while, neither of us sure what comes next. When she pulls away I shiver from the chill, but instead of letting go, she grips my arm to turn me toward her.
She still doesn’t speak as her fingers run up my arms and across my shoulders. Down my chest and back up. Slow, gentle caresses filled with tenderness, not lust. Compassion, not possession. A warmth I’ve never felt blooms from my heart and spreads through the rest of me. She loves me so much, and I have no idea why.
Her fingertips slide down my arm where they hesitate at the red marks on my wrist. With a quick inhale, she flips my palm and gingerly traces the damage. I see the quiver in her lip, feel the grip on my hand tighten. When she glances up, her eyes are wet with more than shower water.
From her saturated look, I expect her to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead she slips her arms around my waist and settles against my chest. I pull her into me and kiss her hair before resting my cheek on her head.
We don’t need words. We never do. We love to throw them at each other, but deep down, our souls have always understood the other in a way no one else can. It’s why we were able to move on but not let go.
“I know another thing you’re not,” she says, her voice barely audible through the pounding water.
I close my eyes. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Free.”
