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“No comment.” He stood stock-still, his chin raised and his eyes on the wall.
“I’m trying to protect you, damn it,” I growled, shaking him. Trying to make him understand.
“No. Comment.”
I stood, our bodies only a hair’s breadth apart.
Unclenched my fists.
Smoothed down his shirt.
The ripples of his abs tensed under my touch, and I breathed his scent in before dipping my head and whispering so only he would hear. “Thank you for protecting her. I’ll do my best too.”
I turned on my heels and walked out, trusting my colleagues would follow.
Three
Flynn
E
verything was falling to pieces, and I hated myself for it. I couldn’t do anything to stop my house of cards collapsing. I’d watched in disbelief as Detective Fraser snapped the cuffs around Zee’s wrists. It went downhill from there.
None of this was supposed to happen.
Not like this.
We were supposed to pull into the hangar and Zee would have had a few words with the detective. He should have nodded, smiled, and gestured for the others to hop back in their cars. Then after they’d driven off, he would have kissed her, then me, and we would have taken it back to her yacht to explore the promise on those sensuous lips of his.
Ignorance was bliss, and naivety was as hazardous as a toxic waste dump.
I wish I could go back, even just twelve hours. I wish I could forewarn all of us. Give us all a hint of how sideways this day would go. I’d tell Zee to be gentle with Tristan, to not push him away so hard. I’d beg him to stay with us. I wanted his arms around me, around us right now. I wanted him to tell me that we’d be okay, that the tentative relationship we’d been building would survive. I wanted to be back on Zee’s yacht, with my girl and my guy safe and happy. But instead, we were like magnets with the same polarity, repelling each other. We were pushing away from our centre further and further apart.
It had only been a few hours, but I missed Tristan. He was probably at work, still catching up on what he missed this morning when I’d asked him to come out to Zee’s yacht. I hated that he was hurting, hated the anguish in his eyes when he’d walked away. He’d begged me to go with him, his fear of the unknown, of the potential for any one of us getting wrapped up in Zee’s illegal activities, so real it was palpable.
Tristan had been almost desperate to get away from her. He was running. At a guess, it was the memories of his time served.
His attempt to protect me was sweet, if a little misinformed. He had to know that I’d never leave her.
But I would do things differently if I had the chance.
That whole trip to Sydney was one epic disaster. The only saving grace was my conversation with Ry. He wanted Zee—he’d admitted as much. But whether he ever pulled his finger out remained to be seen. I’d nearly combusted watching him take a hand to her butt, but when push came to shove, he’d walked away.
He knew I wasn’t going anywhere. He now knew whatever happened between them, Zali would always have other men—me included. Ry needed to accept Zee how she came. There was no trying to fit square pegs in round holes. Being polyamorous didn’t mean Zee couldn’t be exclusive, but she was wired to love more than one person.
Now all our futures were up in the air.
Even if we somehow pulled out an ace and avoided jail time, there was the whole Ezra-arrested-us issue as well as the Tristan-won’t-have-anything-to-do-with-us debacle.
I sniffed, wiping my cheeks and nose with the back of my cuffed hands. My butt was already asleep, the hard plastic on the chair unforgiving. The air-conditioning in the interview room was freezing, making me shiver hard enough to rattle my bones. But even though there were gale-force winds pumping out of the unit above my head, the room still smelled of sweat, mouldy socks, and pee. The harsh light burned my eyes too, which were rubbed raw from crying.
I just wanted out, to blame this on a bad dream. I wanted Zee’s bed, Tristan, Zee and me, and laughter. I wanted ice cream too.
But for the moment, I was somewhere I’d never imagined in my worst nightmares. Terrified didn’t even come close to describing my state of mind.
I trusted Zee. She always had a plan. At the very least, she said she was organizing a lawyer. But being left in the dark was unsettling. It was like screaming into the void, the echo of my own voice my only company. The silence and the darkness were deafening.
I was back at home, curled up on my bed—the mattress tossed on the floor, piles of clothing and old bedding forming a fort around it. I didn’t remember ever sleeping with sheets until I’d stayed the night at Zee’s.
