Page 14 of Alphahole

But as much as it killed me that we’d lost him, I couldn’t muster up the same emotion for Zali’s mum. I wasn’t sad for Rosa’s life being cut short. It probably made me a shitty person, but her incompetence had robbed my parents of everything, including my dad’s life. Mum was set up financially again. I’d made sure she had enough for her retirement—the ridiculous salary that Zali paid me on top of all my living expenses took care of that—but Dad had blamed himself. He couldn’t forgive himself for putting his faith in someone he should have been able to trust.

So yeah, helping Zali and her guys find out what happened to my best friend was so fucking important to me, but Zali’s mum complicated things. My emotions were loaded, my dad’s death muddying the way I felt about her. But I’d do it for Zali and for Ash to give them justice and get Zali and Roe the closure they deserved.

“Actually, I was checking in on you,” Tristan said, interrupting my train of thought. “We’re all rallying around Zali, but I know how much Asher meant to you. Going over everything again can dredge up ghosts, and that’s not easy to go through. I wanted you to know I was here if you ever wanted to talk….”

His words hit me like a gut punch, except the fluttery kind that warmed me up and left me off balance. I had people in my corner, I knew that, but being the focus of his energy and having all that charisma zeroed in on me was like being under a shaft of sunlight that was warming me up from the inside out. There was no laughter in his eyes, no sparkle of humour. He was serious, and that genuineness was as disarming as it was comforting. He set me at ease at the same time as making every molecule in my body vibrate. He was captivating.

It didn’t matter that I hadn’t known him for long; I knew he’d be there if I needed him. He was reliable and there for the people he considered important. He’d proven that to me when Ezra had been forced to arrest us. Tristan didn’t need to, but he’d organized a lawyer for us.

He was the kind of man my uncle and Dad’s mates had taught me to be.

My throat closed over, a lump forming that I couldn’t swallow past. I choked out, “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Okay.” He lingered in the doorway, waiting for something else, but I didn’t know what. My breath was shuddery, and I laced my hands on my lap to hide the shake. Somehow, I knew he wanted more. I knew he wanted me to speak to him. But I didn’t—I couldn’t get past that damn lump. He visibly swallowed as if he was attuned to my predicament and opened his mouth to speak before snapping it closed again.

After a moment, he asked, “I might be stepping out of line here, but can we talk about your dad?”

“No,” I said, extending out the vowel and shaking my head. I didn’t want to go there. It was uncanny that our thoughts were so aligned, my dad and Asher already at the forefront of my mind, but that was a place I didn’t want to go with Tristan. Not now, and possibly not ever.

“Right. Well, as I said, I’m here if you ever want to talk about any of this. Whether it’s as a sounding board or just to vent, I’m here.” He shrugged, but the casual gesture didn’t fool me for a second. He was trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably.

“Why?”

“Why am I offering?” he countered, his brow creasing as he spoke. I nodded, and he turned his lips upward in a hint of a smile before he continued, “Because I’m a nice guy?”

I barked out a laugh, and he sobered, adding, “Because I know what it’s like to experience something that has affected you so profoundly that it changes your life. I don’t know loss like you and Zali do, but I can empathize. Believe it or not, I’m a half decent listener too. And if that’s not enough, you’re important to—” He sucked in a breath, a sharp intake that cut his words off. It was as if he’d caught himself about to say something, then changed his mind. Eventually he continued, saying, “You’re important to Zali, Flynn and Ez, which makes you important to me.”

“You aren’t half bad yourself,” I conceded with a chuckle. I was trying to play off just how much his words meant, and as much as I didn’t want to talk, I kind of needed to. It wasn’t just the research—it was him. He was making me see things that I hadn’t seen before. Same with Ezra.

But I wasn’t ready to talk about that, and if I had to choose, I’d speak about the shit in my past every day of the week over choosing to deal with the quagmire of thoughts plaguing me now.

My leg bounced as I gathered up the fortitude to speak about those dark days. “My dad committed suicide. My pops died of a heart attack really young. At first, we thought it might have been the same thing. But the autopsy found otherwise. He’d taken pills.” I closed my eyes and tried to block out the memories that hit me.

I sensed rather than saw Tristan move further into the room and lean against my desk within reaching distance of me. He squeezed my forearm tight, letting me know without words that he was there. I needed the contact, needed the strength that he was lending me to keep talking, and when he let go, I immediately missed his touch.

I inhaled slowly, and his scent enveloped me. He smelled good—he always did.

He was throwing out calming vibes, warmth and concern covering me like a warm blanket on a winter’s night. I soaked in it. I hadn’t been cared for in a long time.

I was the one who was there for everyone else.

When Dad died, the role reversal from kid to caretaker had happened quickly. I’d been thrust into it by the expectations my uncle and Dad’s mates had placed on me, expectations that had settled heavily on me. I bore the burden willingly, but giving in and letting Tristan be there for me in the same way I tried to be there for everyone else—Zali, Flynn, and Mum—was a relief.

“Mum and Dad had been saving forever to buy a house. They both worked normal jobs. We weren’t well off or anything, so it was hard for them. They were talking to Rosa, trying to figure out how to bump up their savings, and she suggested they invest in her company.” Tristan squeezed my arm again and didn’t let go this time. I closed my hand over his, needing to keep him where he was.

Pain crashed over me, the wounds I’d tried to bury deep opening again. My heart hurt, my eyes stung, and my breath hitched.

“They fought over it,” I said, my voice cracking. Clearing my throat, I added, “I think in the end, Dad might have just transferred their savings without telling Mum. But Mum was adamant that he get the money back. Then everything turned to shit. Rosa didn’t return it. She always had an excuse. All I remember was the yelling—Mum and Dad, Dad on the phone, Dad at me. He was lost and angry for those last few months. He died shortly after. Mum never saw the money again.”

“I’m so sorry, Ry.”

“Me too.” I nodded, wishing that my life, just like I did Zali’s and Roe’s, had turned out differently. “But it is what it is.”

“Still not fair.” He squeezed my arm again, and this time I let him release me. “I read about your parents when I was doing my research, but I didn’t know their names—I talked about them to Zali, taunted her with their story. I’m sorry I did that. It was shitty of me.”

I shrugged, not knowing how to respond. It was shitty, but he didn’t know me then. He still didn’t, not really, but I appreciated his apology.

“I didn’t put it together at first—the interview transcript had names redacted—but then Flynn recognized your dad’s name on Zali’s wall. He said that he’d died suddenly.” Tristan looked around my office, taking in his surroundings without comment. His voice was melancholy when he finished his thoughts. “I’d hoped it was natural causes, knowing it was anything but.”

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