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Ry looked away, blinking fast, and Flynn’s fingers tightened on my shoulders. I couldn’t swallow, the lump in my throat like a boulder. Trembling, I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged my legs tight. A sob hitched my breath, and I itched to reach out to Tristan. I wanted to turn back time and save him from the pain. From the fear.
After I’d killed the fucker that hurt him.
All those times I’d pictured ripping Tristan limb from limb and wanting him to hurt burned like acid in my gut. It had actually happened. He’d been injured at the hands of another person. He’d been left bleeding and broken in just the way I’d imagined it. I was going to be sick. Never in my worst nightmares did I ever think it could have happened.
Clutching my stomach, I dashed to the side and dry retched, my stomach heaving as it tried to expel the food I hadn’t eaten.
At first I thought it was Flynn gathering my hair into his hands and pulling it back, but when he moved to the side and slowly rubbed my back, I realized it was Ry. “You okay, baby girl?” he asked when I rested my forehead on my crossed arms.
“No, I’m really not,” I confessed, shaking my head. I met Ry’s gaze, and my heart broke at the deep furrow in his brows. “But it’s not about me. I can’t believe he went through that.”
“Me neither. No wonder he didn’t want anything to do with us.”
I stood the rest of the way up and looked over my shoulder at Flynn straddling Tristan, his knees on either side of Tristan’s hips and their arms wrapped tightly around each other. They were a beautiful sight, one that made my heart ache. I didn’t want either Flynn or Tristan to miss out on each other.
“He’s strong to have survived that kind of intimidation,” I murmured.
His actions—his reactions—were self-preservation. Not to downplay it, but high-school bullying like Flynn and I had endured was one thing. I couldn’t imagine how devastating six months of psychological warfare from proven criminals would be to a person’s psyche. My chest hurt and my heart broke for Tristan. Tears sprang to my eyes. I tried to wipe them away before they could fall, but Ry saw. He gathered me in his arms and whispered, “You’re strong too, Zali. Talk to us, tell us what went down so we can help.”
The weight of my criminal actions sat heavy, like an anvil around my neck dragging me under. I had a responsibility to protect Tristan, to protect all these men. No matter what, I could never let my actions come back on any of them. That meant protecting them from me too.
Today was far too close a call for comfort.
“Okay,” I agreed. With his arm around my shoulders, we walked back to the couch. Ry hovered as I sat, then he got me a Sprite from the outdoor refrigerator. I knew he was still pissed at me—I’d violated his trust—but his anger was slowly dissipating. He cracked the can open, handed it to me, and gave me a small nod when I’d taken a sip. It was a peace offering that I gratefully took.
Patting the seat next to me, I waited as Flynn climbed off the professor and, hand in hand, they slipped around the table to join me. Flynn and I bracketed him, and Ryder leaned behind us on the back of the couch.
“I’m sorry I put you in that position,” I murmured, reaching up to caress his stubbled cheek. His whiskers were soft, his brown eyes slipping closed as I ran my thumb along his bottom lip and over his jaw. He looked tired, the memories of the fear he’d endured taking its toll. My gorgeous, strong man was hurting.
Blinking open his eyes, and with vulnerability radiating off him, he pleaded with a shake of his head, “I can’t go back there, Zali. I’m not strong enough to go back.”
“Never. I promise you. I’ll make sure of it.”
He sucked in a shuddery breath, and Ry gripped his shoulder, lending Tristan his strength. Tristan turned, meeting Ry’s gaze and holding it for a moment before he diverted his attention to Flynn and then me.
“Walking away from you isn’t an option anymore. I’ve fallen in love with you. I can’t….” He groaned and tangled his fingers in his hair.
I blinked, taking in both his words and the tone in which they were spoken. He was conflicted—screwing around with his students was a disaster waiting to happen, and falling for either one of us had career-ending clusterfuck written all over it. But falling for someone like me was downright dangerous. His past, his fears, must have been tying him in knots.
Flynn slid onto the coffee table, his knees between Tristan’s. He gripped Tristan’s wrists gently, then he eased his hands down and threaded their fingers together.
“You love Zee, like I do?” Flynn asked, awe in his voice and a happy smile lighting up his face as Tristan lifted his eyes to Flynn’s.
“Yeah.” Tristan nodded. “I do. And you, too, angel.” He reached for me, sliding his hand into mine, and I did the same to Flynn. Tristan’s move broke the levy on the dam, and my breath hitched.
I pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and leaned my forehead against his cheek before whispering, “Good. Because I’m stupidly in love with you too.”
Tristan’s smile was small, but it lit up his eyes. Even if he didn’t want to be, he was happy. “I said that I was staying forever, love. I wanted it. So much. But fear pushed me away. I’m still fucking petrified.”
I nodded. “I know. I’ll do what it takes, Tristan. I’ll move mountains to protect you. All of you.” I squeezed Flynn’s hand and cast my gaze to Ry, needing him to know that my promise included him.
Tristan looked toward the dock, seemingly mesmerized by the way the lights played on the ripples in the water. But if anything, he was staring into space, his gaze unfocussed. The smile slipped off his face. “I kept telling myself that I’d never wanted a relationship before you, but….”
“You’ve been lying to yourself,” Flynn finished for him after his silence stretched out.
Tristan exhaled and his eyes slipped closed. Shoulders hunched and lips turned down, he nodded. “I’m still in love with him.” He squeezed my hand tighter and added, “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
I understood, and I was okay with what he was saying. I looked at Flynn, and he brought our joined hands to his lips. We were connected, each of us holding onto the other.
