by Lane, Arie
It has been two months since the night she tucked me into her bed while I was drunk off my ass. Two months and not another sign of contact. Even Dante hasn’t heard from her again. I ask half a dozen authors with no success. Just as I am about to ask another, Ele grabs by arm.
“Tristan, you need to stop. None of them know where Bentley is. Hun, she doesn’t want them to know.”
Staring at Ele digging her nails into my arm, I start to get defensive, “Ele, damn it! Someone has to know where she is. Bentley didn’t just drop off the face of the earth. Someone has to still be in contact with her.”
“Tristan, please, I’m begging you to stop this. She asked you to move on. Don’t you think you should respect her wishes? She doesn’t want to be found. You need to let her go now.”
I know Ele is only looking out for my best interests. We’ve been friends for a few years now, but if she believes how I feel about Bentley, she wouldn’t be trying to hold me back. I turn back around to find the author that Bentley sat next to at the last signing. Taking a step forward, Ele digs her fingers deep into my wrist and seethes at me through gritted teeth.
“Why can’t you just leave this the fuck alone? Don’t you get it? She doesn’t want you. I’m sorry Tristan. I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but Bentley has moved on. She’s found someone new and it’s time you do also.”
Her words catch me completely off guard. What the fuck does she mean Bentley moved on. With whom? The woman never dated in twenty-seven years and all of a sudden she’s become a tramp? Bullshit! I don’t believe it.
“What the hell are you talking about Electra? What do you mean she’s moved on? Are you in touch with her? You know where the fuck she is and you never said anything? You’re supposed to be my fucking friend! How the hell could you keep something like that from me? How long, Ele? How fucking long have you been in contact with her? You’re just now telling me she’s over me?”
I’ve never raised my voice to Ele before, but then I’ve never been this fucking ticked off. How the fuck could she keep this from me? All this time, I’ve been trying to find the girl I love. The one who slipped through my fucking fingers, and she’s with someone else? No fucking way!
“I’m sorry Tristan,” she replied while planting a kiss dangerously close to my lips. “I swear I wanted to tell you. I promised Bentley I wouldn’t tell anyone that I was in contact with her. I just can’t stand to see you broken like this.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about Ele, but you need to shut the fuck up right now. Bentley wouldn’t pull shit like that on me. No way in fucking hell do I believe my girl is stepping out. She walked the fuck away because of Darla. She’s not some inconsiderate bitch who would hook up with someone else, endangering him, just for the fucking hell of it. If that were the case, she wouldn’t have fucking left me.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe it isn’t you she was stepping out on? Maybe Bentley isn’t as sweet and fucking innocent as you think she is. You told me yourself that she disappeared for days at a time last year. That doesn’t make you even a little suspicious? Who walks away from her man without telling him a word?”
“Bentley and I weren’t together when that happened. She was still determined to hate my fucking guts then. And what does that have to do with now? You think she spent all that time fucking me when she was with someone else? Bullshit Ele! You’re a fucking liar.”
“If I’m lying then how come she hasn’t let you know she’s okay? She’s moved the fuck on, and you’re too damn blind to realize it. It’s been how many months, Tristan? Don’t you think it’s about time you let go? You act as if she has a golden pussy or something. She’s nothing more than another warm hole to stick your dick in. Get the fuck over her.”
It takes all the energy I have not to wring Ele’s neck for that comment. I want to slap the shit out of her…I want to scream, but I have no reply. So I just walk the fuck away. I hate to admit that Ele’s words fucking got to me, but the truth is they did. What if Bentley really is with someone else? I should call Jacob and tell him to leave it alone. Though at the very least, if she is with someone else, I want to know. No, I need to know. I need an answer as to what the fuck this dickhead that Ele mentioned has that makes him more worthy of her. Why would she choose to be with someone else over me?
Bentley
Whenever I stay in this town, I always use my pen name that I first started out with, Lena Jade. If my mother were looking really hard, she’d be able to find me. At least one would think since the name is made up of both Cora and my middle names, but I doubt my mother even remembers we have middle names.
Taking my usual seat at the bar, I daydream while Tony grabs me an iced tea and puts my order in. I’m lucky because Tony is from the South. I love him for that alone, but even more because the man makes a mean tray of fried pickles. Sadly, I think I’m the only one in town who orders them, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Taking out my notebook, I start jotting down the ideas I have for my next book. With the holidays quickly approaching, I want to release a festive romance. Seeing the couples around town shopping and cuddling creates the perfect atmosphere for a good romance novel. I’m deep in thought, scribbling a million miles a minute, when a voice next to me startles me from my concentration.
“Hi there, it’s not often a pretty little thing like you is found without company. Surely you can’t be all alone?”
Looking up, I see Tony shooting daggers into the guy sitting next to me. That’s another thing I love about him and this town. The people are very protective. Tony knows a bit of my history so he’s even more so than others. Turning to see the man sitting next to me, I’m damn near tipped off my axis, too stunned for words. He’s hotter than a two dollar pistol with his golden brown hair lightly curling, well-muscled framed with tattoos that run down his arm and peek out from under the sleeve of his polo, and a smile that would make most women’s panties melt on spot. I swear it’s like seeing a fucking ghost. He has those same tropical blue eyes as Tristan, and for a moment, I’m lost in them.
I’m in an unusually good mood, so I don’t hold it against him that the asshole from the other night tried almost the exact same shit on me. That and the sense of familiarity he instills in me is nerve wracking. After a couple of moments trying to gather myself, I finally find my voice. “Sorry…uh, I actually prefer to be alone. It’s a bit hard to get any work done when you have someone else in your company.” I stutter, and hope he takes the hint and leaves it at that, but he continues talking.
“I see. Well Miss, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t offer to accompany you during dinner. Seeing as there’s no man here with you, I’m sure you can spare a few minutes away from your work to enjoy some company. Tell me something, Miss. Does your boyfriend always leave you alone in the evening? Or are you still on the market? I don’t see a ring on your finger so I assume you aren’t completely spoken for.”
Feeling the blush rising in my cheeks, I try to hide my face as I answer.
“No I’m not married. I am spoken for, however. Like I said, I prefer to be left alone so I can do my work. That often means leaving me alone during the evenings. As far as joining me for dinner, I really must decline. I’m afraid I’d be rather bad company. Honestly, I’m just not interested. I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’ll find more than a few attractive women around here willing to take you up on your offer.”
I turn back to my notebook hoping that my polite decline will get him to leave me alone. Apparently, anything short of telling him to fuck off doesn't get him to take the hint.
He chuckles as he eyes me once over. ‘I’m sure there are plenty, but I doubt any of them look like you do. I might have to give your so-called boyfriend a run for his money.”
Now I was pissed. You can annoy the shit out of me all you want. And Tristan may no longer be with me physically, but in my eyes he is still mine, and no one is going to fucking talk shit about him.
“Look,
I’m not really in the mood for some ass wipe to sit here and talk shit about my man. I made it pretty fucking obvious that I’m not interested, so how about you pick your lily licking southern boy ass up before I have to kick it back to wherever it is you picked up that drawl. Because as much as you’re working that southern boy charm card, I’m not buying it. And before you tell me you’re just trying to compliment me, I’m not at all flattered by the fact that you find me attractive, since you probably spend your days deciding which farm animal you’re going to fuck come sun down. So that’s not really saying much there, buddy.” I sassed.
I watch as his jaw practically hits the floor. I doubt he’ll find a comeback for what I’ve just said, and while everyone within earshot is laughing their asses off, I am hoping he attempts a graceful exit, and gets the hell away from me.
“Well then Miss, perhaps another time. I’m Jacob by the way.” I watch as he extends his hand in my direction. “I didn’t catch your name.”
With a small resigning sigh, I turn slightly to him not taking his hand. “I don’t recall offering my name. But if it makes you walk away, then by all means, I’m Lena. Now if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get the fuck back to work.”
Thanking some small star must be shining down on me, this Jacob character finally vacates the seat next to me. I try to settle back into my notebook, but the experience left me feeling less than lovey dovey. Something about him just felt off and the feeling of walking on eggshells is never a pleasant one. I sit quietly eating my pickles and watching between my notebook and window where a heavy snow has started to fall.
I don’t want to get stuck here in this weather, so I nearly down the rest of my food and head out to the Jeep Liberty I purchased when I arrived here. I would much rather be in my Mustang but with the cloth roof, it’s not really practical in the cold weather. By the time I reach the cabin, the snow has picked up a bit more and the temperature is now biting. It’s one of the things I hate about the North. A half hour can mean a twenty degree drop in temperature, especially in the winter. It’s also the reason I opted for a cabin with a fireplace. If I have to endure the cold, I can at least do it while watching a fire light up my living room.
Chapter 4
Tristan
I’m in the middle of training a client when Jacob calls. I tell myself I don’t really want to hear his progress report anyway. Yet as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, I do. I just don’t want to hear about how the love of my life is now in love someone else, if that really is the case. Once I get back to the house though, Aggie is waiting for me, and I have a feeling the rolling pin in her hand is for more than baking cookies.
“Jacob has called here three times. Why aren’t you answering him? He has some news about that girl of yours, so I suggest you get your ass on the line and call him back.”
After making sure my balls are still intact, I grab a quick shower then dial Jacob’s cell. I fail to notice myself pacing the room until I suddenly stop when he answers.
“About time you dialed me back. I think I found your girl. Although she’s not at all what I was expecting.”
I let my agitation get the best of me as I answer, “What part weren’t you expecting? The gorgeous girl or the asshole she’s now with?” I doubt he’s really an asshole but how good can her judge of character be when she threw me the fuck away. I’m wallowing in self pity, waiting to hear all of the shitty details. I find myself trying to crush the phone in my hand, wishing its Jacob’s face as I hear his laughter ringing in my ears.
“Nah, she is quite pretty. You were right about the whole naughty librarian thing. It definitely works for her, especially the way that tight little skirt she wears hugs the curve of her ass. The woman definitely knows how to get a man’s attention, but I was referring to the sass that comes out of that girl’s mouth. I wouldn’t suggest making a habit of interrupting her when she’s writing, it really pisses her off. As far as a man, I can’t help you there. She wasn’t with anyone. She did say she was spoken for, but the way she said it sounded a bit rehearsed. I’d say she’s used that bit to shoot down more than her fair share of men around here.”
“Ele swore she’s with someone. She told me she’s been in touch with her. She said she’s moved on and is happily in love, and that she just got engaged a few weeks ago, so there’s a man somewhere,” I choke on the words, not wanting to acknowledge how bad it hurts to admit she’s with someone else.
“Well, I don’t know about what Ele told you, but I didn’t see any man. There’s no ring on her finger either. Nor is there any mark showing one has been there. Hell, I even asked if she was married, and she confirmed she isn’t even engaged. I’ll look into it further though if it’s really bugging ya. I just wanted to let you know I found her. Oh and she’s going by the name Lena. Not sure if it has any kind of meaning, but maybe that cupcake of hers down there can tell you more.”
Hanging up the phone, I’m more confused than ever. Why the fuck would Ele lie to me? Why would she go out of her way to make that shit up about Bentley? She wouldn’t, or at least I hope she wouldn’t. Pulling on a pair of warm up pants, I dial Dante. After the second ring, he picks up.
“Hey Tristan, what's up?”
“Jacob found Bentley; he said she’s in some rinky dink town somewhere up North.”
“Yeah, he said she seemed okay, just a bit pissed off that he was bothering her,” I chuckle, knowing she probably gave him hell. “Thing is he didn’t find any signs of another man, so I don’t know what to make of that shit. I can’t think of any reason Ele would lie to me. I’m fucking relieved to hear it though. I mean she had me thinking the fucking worst of Bentley.”
“I told you there isn’t any other fucking man. I don’t know what kind of shit Electra has going on in her head but that’s not Bentley. I know for a fact, if that girl was going to call anyone and tell them she’s moved on, it wouldn’t be her. Shit, Bentley hadn’t heard from her in years until she called asking her to come to the signing. Completely out of the fucking blue. So I know damn well she wouldn’t have called Ele to talk about her new life. And as far as men go, you’re the first straight man she’s ever let get near her. Do you really think she’s going to go all hussy on us overnight?” Dante said with his typical 'I’ll cut a bitch' attitude.
“Well, Jacob is looking into it a bit further. I just thought I’d let you know she’s safe. I know we haven’t caught up with Darla yet, but at least with Jacob near Bentley, I know he’ll keep an eye on her. Although if he refers to her ass one more time, I might have to stick hot pokers in that fuck-head's eyes,” I joke.
After saying goodbye and hanging up, it occurs to me that I never asked Jacob where the rinky dink town is where she currently lives. I don’t recall him saying either. I’ll have to try and remember to check with him tomorrow to find out where she ended up settling down.
Jacob
I wait ten minutes after Bentley leaves to make sure she isn’t coming back before I jimmy her back lock. For some reason, I expect her place to look sterile. Instead, the place looks like something you’d find in a greeting card. It’s warm and inviting. Only there are no pictures. Actually, there is nothing personal at all in the living room. Checking out each of the rooms, it’s all the same. The place looks like a well lived-in home, only there’s nothing that says someone lives here. At least not until I reach her bedroom.
On the nightstand is a single picture. I smile in satisfaction knowing I am right. There in the frame is a picture of Tristan with his arms locked around Bentley. You can tell they didn’t realize the picture was being taken since they were both smiling but not looking anywhere near the camera. It’s the kind of picture that had you come upon them when it was being taken, it would have made you smile. They look like something straight out of one of those cheesy rom-com flicks. Completely lost in each other and oblivious to the world around them.
I’m happy that I can witness him finally finding some kind of happiness, even th
ough it now looks like a long shot. Although another part of me envies the love he shares with her. I hope for his sake, he doesn’t ever really lose her. That’s the kind of thing that could break a man, and believe me I know. I’m still coming to terms with the woman I let slip away. Yet standing in this room, it isn’t a sense of remorse I feel, but elation. Bentley is safe, and after everything Tristan has been though, he trusted me to find her and watch over her.
After knowing all of the shit Tristan went through as a kid, it’s nice to know he finally has someone to call his own. His father was a real piece of shit, and he never got to meet my aunt. It sucks knowing I got to have her in my life for two years, and he never even got a chance to meet her. The son of a bitch wouldn’t even let him meet us. He told him we were all dead or didn’t exist.
I dwell on the past for a moment before remembering where I am. I take another look around her room before heading out. The last thing I want to chance is Bentley coming home and finding me in her house. Slipping out the back, I shoot a text to Tristan’s phone.
Unless her boyfriend doesn’t mind you being the first thing she sees when she wakes up, I say she doesn’t have one. The only personal thing in the whole damn place is a picture of the two of you.
I try covering my foot tracks in the snow as I make my way back to my truck. When I get closer, I notice someone else watching Bentley’s house. I wonder if it’s just a nosey neighbor and if he saw me going over there. He seemed not to notice me at all though. It looks like he’s writing in some kind of notepad. I swallow the bile in my throat as I remember Tristan telling me about her losing her sister to a stalker. I really hope whatever the fuck he’s writing isn’t some detailed shit about her comings and goings. Tristan would lose his shit if he found out someone else may want to hurt her.
