Shame (Ruin #3)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I shivered, hitting the brake so hard that the car swerved.

  “Lisa.” Tristan put his hand on my shoulder. “Sometimes it’s okay to go fast…”

  “He was so confusing,” I whispered. “Like what he said to me always made sense, Tristan. It always made sense. I mean, it was like my brain was cobwebs, and he’d pull a bit away, and I’d feel better — but only for a while. Then the confusion would happen again, and he’d make it better. But it never lasted. And when I finally started questioning him, he turned on me. But it was like he expected it, like it was just another stage of our relationship. I felt… manipulated.” I shook my head at Tristan. “I don’t want to feel that way again, like I don’t have a voice. Like even my thoughts are being silenced.”

  Tristan gripped my right hand. “I will never make you feel that way, Lisa. Nobody deserves to be silenced.”

  My chest heaved like I’d just been jogging.

  “Do you want to go back?” Tristan asked after a moment. “Because we really don’t have to keep driving fast…”

  “He made all the good feelings shameful.” My voice cracked. “So no, Tristan. I don’t want to go back. I’m going to go forward.”

  His eyes lit up as he leaned back against the seat. “Then by all means, beautiful, drive.”

  All things considered, I’m surprised I didn’t get a speeding ticket. By the time we reached Tristan’s house, I’d been driving like a NASCAR escapee for the past hour. It had been years since I’d felt so exhilarated, so alive.

  I parked the car, hopped out, and grinned, gliding my fingertips along the smooth red fender like it had just given me a gift.

  “It’s yours.” Tristan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Whenever you want to drive it, it’s yours.”

  I laughed nervously. “For a second there, I thought you were giving me a car.”

  “Oh, I am.” He released me. “But I figured you’d say no if I just came out and said, ‘Hey, Lisa, take it home.’ So you can keep it here, but I think you’ve left your mark on it as much as it’s left its mark on you. It would be a tragedy for me to ever get behind that wheel when it’s meant for your body.”

  Grinning, I turned around and threw my arms around his neck. “Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you should give people things that cost more than a nice house.”

  He chuckled. “Of course it does. What’s the point in having money if you don’t get to spend it on the important things in life?”

  “I’d be happy with a Ford Focus.” I kissed him softly on the mouth.

  “Which is exactly why you get the Ferrari.” He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past my lips, before speaking again. “Because you’d be happy with a Ford Focus or a tricycle, or even a high five… and I think you deserve more than all three.”

  “Thank you.” Heat raced into my cheeks as I stared hard at his chest. “For the ride.”

  Laughing, Tristan pulled away and shoved his hands in his pocket. “Oh, Lisa, you really don’t want to say things like that to me, not when you look that beautiful, and not when my self-control already waved goodbye two hours ago.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Dinner?”

  I twisted my hands in front of me, excited and nervous at the prospect of being alone with him a few more hours. “That depends.”

  “On?” His smile was so sexy I almost moaned out loud.

  “Your self-control.”

  That sexy smile grew so wide I darn-near fainted.

  “I’ll be the perfect gentleman…” He held out his hand.

  I took two steps.

  And then he added, “…until you ask me not to be.”

  With a whoosh all the air left my lungs. I took his hand and squeezed. “Overconfident today, are we?”

  “Hopeful.” Tristan tugged me into his chest. “Just really damn hopeful.”

  With a lame laugh I pushed past him, staggering into the hallway, feeling drunk off the looks he was giving me, off the feeling he gave me by just being him. Not caring about who I was then, but who I was now.

  “So…” Tristan placed his hands on my shoulders and led me into the kitchen. “…how about I cook, and you tell me one more thing.”

  “One more thing?”

  “That you miss — that he stole from you.”

  Yeah, I about swallowed my tongue, because there were a lot of things he’d stolen the joy from, that much was true; but there was one thing in general that had hurt the most. He’d stolen my pride in myself, what it felt like to feel beautiful to a man. He’d stolen what a guy never had the right to steal — my self-confidence.

  Tristan pulled out a pan and began rummaging around the kitchen. I chewed my lower lip while he reached for a knife.

  “Sex,” I blurted. “He stole sex from me.”

  The knife in Tristan’s hand clattered to the countertop. His entire body tensed as his fingers pressed into the hard granite — knuckles white. He swore violently before finally turning around and facing me. I knew he’d turned because I’d been watching his body — not his face, definitely not his eyes because eyes revealed too much. And to see his pity? Well, I wasn’t really sure I could handle that, wasn’t sure if my confidence would suddenly crack, and I’d burst into tears.

  “Lisa,” Tristan barked. “Look at me.”

  Slowly, I lifted my chin.

  Tristan’s gray eyes were blazing. I wasn’t sure if it was hatred or something else… something far more possessive. “No guy has the right to take that from you.”

  I nodded, my throat swelling with emotion.

  “Just like no guy has the right or power to give it back,” he whispered, his voice tinged with a bit of sadness, maybe even regret. “Listen very carefully… you are the only one with the power to take it back, but you have to make a choice.”

  “I suck at choices.” I played with the empty glass in front of me, twirling it between my hands.

  “No you don’t.” Tristan walked around the bar. I could feel the heat of his body behind me as he placed his hands on the counter on either side of me. His lips touched my ear. “You give power to it when you feed the fear. When you keep his memory alive.”

  “You think I want that?” I snapped, trying to push away from him. I was trapped by his hands instantly.

  “No.” He kept a firm hold on me. “I think you believe you can’t help it, but you can… you can help it. Don’t give him that satisfaction. Don’t feed his power by keeping his voice, the voice of a liar, in your head.”

  Tristan removed his hands and walked back around the counter and started cooking again, while I sat there, stunned, a bit hurt, and confused. Why couldn’t he just make it easy and sleep with me? Why couldn’t he chase the demons away It would work. It would have to work.

  Then again, what would happen in the morning? When I was all alone again…

  I’d hear Taylor’s voice.

  His scorn, mockery, contempt.

  And the fear would be back.

  But how did you banish something so cemented in your psyche? It was like he was still alive in my head, regardless of what I did.

  “Go for a swim,” Tristan said. “Clear your head.”

  “Swim?” I repeated. “You want me to swim?”

  “Either swim or over-think things until you give yourself a headache. Use the hot tub or lap pool. I have spare suits from parties I’ve thrown, and I’m pretty sure one of them will fit you. Take the trail down to the pool. The bathhouse is on your right… and relax.”

  “Relax.” I almost laughed out loud. “Right.”

  “Professor’s orders.”

  “To put on a bikini while he cooks for me?”

  “Exactly.” Tristan flashed me a sideways grin and kept working.

  “Fine.” I pushed away from the barstool and slowly made my way down the trail. Maybe he was right; maybe it would help.

  Besides, the last time I’d swim was at one of Taylor’s pool parties; may as well swipe one more t
hing he ruined off my list.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I drove away that day…from everything. I went home, packed all my stuff and bought a ticket to Seattle. I didn’t even take my car—I’d just buy one up there. I needed to escape so desperately that the money didn’t matter. My parents were just happy I was smiling again—which is sad considering someone had to die in order to put it back on my face. —Mel

  Tristan

  CUTTING VEGETABLES WHILE so pissed off you couldn’t see straight? Probably not the best idea I’d ever had. I was such an ass, but I’d needed to get rid of her. It was damn-near impossible to hold my anger at bay, and all I really wanted to do was slam my hand against the counter until either it broke or the counter broke.

  “Damn it, Taylor.” I hated him. I’d never felt such hate for another human being in my entire existence; it was overpowering, exhilarating, terrifying.

  I dropped the knife and dialed Wes’s number. He answered on the second ring.

  “Anything?” I barked.

  “Whoa, you alright?”

  “Would you be alright?” I turned around as the sound of water splashing hit my ears. At least she wouldn’t hear our conversation; at least I’d had her leave before I lost complete control and scared her shitless.

  “No,” Wes finally said. “I wouldn’t be, and sorry, we haven’t found any medical records. Nothing. I have my PI working on it. Gabe has his contacts working on it, but… it’s like he never existed. Though we did finally catch a break on the website.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sure. I should have the information to you by tomorrow. Just do yourself a favor.”

  “What?” My eyes were trained on Lisa’s body as she swam across the pool.

  “You gotta tell her man.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No. I can’t.”

  Wes sighed heavily, the puff of breath amplified over the phone connection. “Look, I’m not saying she’s going to take it well.”

  “No shit.”

  “But…” Wes continued, his tone making it clear he wasn’t receptive to an argument. “…can you imagine if she found out later? If she found out that you kept this epic secret from her?”

  “That’s what you guys are for… to make sure she doesn’t find out. It will only hurt her more, and I’m done with my family hurting her. Done.”

  “What exactly… are you doing then? Really. I’m curious.”

  “Giving her exactly what she needs.”

  “Which is?”

  “Healing,” I said softly. “Look, I gotta run, but keep me posted.”

  “Yeah… just… think about it, Tristan. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “I will.” I wouldn’t. I hung up the phone and stared at the meat as it cooked in the pan. The past needed to stay buried, and I’d do anything to keep it that way, just like I’d do anything to keep that smile on Lisa’s face.

  I finished cooking the meat and added in all the fixings for tacos. By the time I’d set the table, Lisa walked in, wrapped up in a fluffy towel, an easy smile across her face.

  “Have fun?” I asked, matching my grin to hers.

  She wrapped the towel tighter around her and plopped onto one of the barstools. “Your pool has two waterfalls.”

  “Yup.”

  “And a slide.”

  “True.”

  “And a diving board.”

  “You gonna tell me all the things my hot tub has too?”

  “I mean, a swim-up bar?” she said, ignoring me. “Can I just live in your pool forever?”

  “Hmm…” I leaned forward bracing my hands on the counter. “…that depends. You gonna turn into a mermaid and go topless?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No.”

  I shrugged. “Sorry, no deal.”

  “Perv.”

  “No.” I chuckled and pointed at myself. “Honest man.”

  She laughed with me. “Okay fine. That’s a valid point. At least you didn’t lie and say it was okay only if I wore a one piece and sombrero.”

  “Yes to the sombrero, no to the one piece.” I shuddered. “Always no to the one piece.”

  “Ah, he likes skin.”

  “Only yours.”

  I fought to keep my mouth from falling open as she dropped the towel lower, giving me an enticing view of her skin.

  “Only yours.”

  Her face flushed. She looked at the food and pointed. “So, tacos? Who told you?”

  “Told me…” I raised my hands in a show of innocence. “…that you hated tacos? Shit, do you hate tacos?”

  She grinned and started piling up her plate. “Nope, I love them. Next to pizza, best food ever created.”

  “Thank God, you’re not a vegan, organic-loving, soy milk drinker.”

  Lisa popped a chunk of ground beef in her mouth. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m more of a cheese-loving, hamburger-eating, whole-milk-drinking, potato chip cruncher.”

  “Chip of choice?”

  “Lay’s Sour Cream and Onion.” She rolled her eyes. “Like there’s any other choice.”

  I nodded my approval. “And cheese?”

  “All cheese. That’s not even a real question. You should know this by now.”

  “Hamburger? With onions or without?”

  “With, but I like the little crunchy ones that are fried and tend to permanently find their way onto your hips.”

  “Yeah, I hate that.” I winked.

  Lisa rolled her eyes and loaded up two tacos with sour cream. “And you?”

  “Doritos… ranch.” I rubbed circles on my stomach and lifted my eyebrows in teasing. “Though I’ll eat anything with a crunch.”

  Lisa paused before biting into her taco and chewing. “So you’d eat a crunchy spider or snail?”

  “Only if I was dared…” I started making my own tacos. “And only if they had ranch on them.”

  “Cheese?”

  “Gouda.”

  “Snob.”

  “You know this about me. Plus, Gouda always has the best labels, all expensive cheeses do.”

  “Hopeless.” Lisa took another bite and wiped her mouth. “What about you? Hamburgers with or without onions?”

  “Am I with you?”

  “Umm… sure.”

  “No onions.” As Lisa chuckled, her smile had me staring at her mouth for a good few seconds before I responded. “Or give me onions. Since you’ll be eating them, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. I’d still kiss you… and I’d still really enjoy it.” And that was the truth.

  That was the last of the food talk. Lisa averted her eyes and chewed while I tried to wrack my brain for more ideas to keep her with me rather than drop her back at the school.

  From her purse came the sound of her ringtone. Damn it. I hated phones. Always interrupting things, interrupting us. I wondered if she’d be pissed if I threw her entire purse into the pool and took her with me, stopping all interruptions for good.

  She wiped her hands on the napkin and pulled out her phone. After reading through it, she groaned. “Ugh, Jack.”

  Every nerve jumped to high alert as I cleared my throat. “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She typed something into her phone. “He wants to meet tomorrow morning again about the project.”

  “Just out of curiosity.” I worded the question carefully. “How often have you guys been meeting?”

  “Just twice.” She put her phone back in her purse. “I think we have the basis for our project outlined and ready to go… at least I hope so. I hear this professor’s a tight-ass.”

  “How nice of you to notice.” I winked.

  At her blush, I grabbed the dishes and started cleaning up, needing the distraction that cleaning would give me so I didn’t do something regrettable, like throw caution to the wind and jump over the table and attack her with my mouth.

  Lisa started helping me with putting things away.

  The kitchen was cleaned up way too fast.

  I had half a mind to spi
ll stuff out of the fridge, just so she’d stay longer in order to help me clean it up.

  “So.” Lisa folded her arms across her chest. “What now?”

  “I can take you back…” I really hated saying that out loud. “…or you could stay the night.”

  “Like a totally harmless sleepover?”

  “If by harmless you mean we sleep separate and I only think about taking advantage of you, then yeah, totally harmless.”

  “So honest.”

  “At least I have that going for me, right?”

  “I’d say you have a lot more going for you.” Lisa wrapped her arms around my neck and grazed my lips with hers, a whisper of a touch that left me craving something deeper, longer, more passionate. “A lot more going for you.”

  “Tacos never tasted so inviting.” I licked the side of her mouth and pressed another hungry kiss against her lips. Moaning, I lifted her up onto the clean countertop, pulled her legs around my hips, and kissed her from a different angle.

  Every angle had a taste.

  Every kiss was different.

  And every time I touched her, I wanted more.

  “Harmless sleepover, huh?” She panted against my mouth.

  I took a step back and cursed. “Right, so I’ll just lock my door.”

  “Again.” She grinned.

  I rolled my eyes and helped her off the counter. “Yeah again.” I gripped her hand and led her down the hall into the theatre room. “So what movie?”

  “Anything.” Lisa yawned and sat down in one of the chairs. “Actually, anything but one of those psychological thrillers.”

  I winced. “Alright, Dumbo, it is.”

  “Saddest Disney movie ever.”

  “I think you’re confused with Up.”

  Shaking her head, Lisa ignored me. “Those animals were bastards to him!”

  “There wasn’t even any dialogue, just the old man and woman holding hands.”

  “And they made fun of him all the time for being different!”

  “He never took that trip… never had the chance. Damn mailbox.”

  “His poor mom!” Lisa punched the chair. “At least he ended up flying.”