by Shelly Bell
“I swear I could’ve cut the tension with a knife.”
“Nope. No tension,” Isabella said quickly.
“You didn’t tell me how hot he is. And how young. He can’t be more than thirty-five.”
“He’s twenty-eight.”
She was being tortured. Climbing up seventy-five steps in the dark, out of breath and anxious, and now Chloe was grilling her about Tristan. Could it get any worse?
“Tell me the truth,” Chloe said as Isabella reached the top and walked into the room housing the carillon, a keyboard composed of carillon bells. “You’ve got a crush on him, don’t you? I know I would.”
Panting, Isabella leaned over and put her hands on her knees. If she denied the crush, would it make Chloe more suspicious? After all, she couldn’t conceptualize a single heterosexual woman who wouldn’t find Tristan attractive. “Maybe a little bit. But he’s my professor. Nothing could happen even if I wanted it to.”
Chloe turned in a circle, looking at every corner of the space. Unlike Isabella, she was breathing normally, unaffected by their trudge up the stairs.
“I had sex with my music teacher in tenth grade,” Chloe said so softly, Isabella could barely hear her. “It started innocently. She’d ask me to stay after school for extra vocal lessons and paid me a lot of attention. Attention I craved.”
Oh, Chloe. Isabella straightened, her stomach churning for a different reason now. She had a feeling this story wasn’t going to end well.
Chloe stopped her twirling and hung her head to her chest. “I was flattered by it, you know? She’d hug me a lot. Find reasons to touch me. And then one day she kissed me. I was afraid that if I stopped her, she wouldn’t give me the lessons anymore. And…I liked her. She was beautiful and talented, and out of all the students in the school, she wanted me.”
If anyone understood what that was like, it was Isabella. She’d felt the same way when Tony and she had started dating.
Her friend heaved a sigh and headed out the door to the narrow platform that wrapped around the entire top of tower.
“Did you tell anyone?” Isabella asked, following her outside.
“No.” Chloe shook her head, her eyes glistening. “But someone saw me leaving her house on a Sunday morning and reported it. The school administration wanted to keep the scandal quiet, but everyone found out anyway. She was fired. I haven’t spoken to her since.” She turned around and put her hands on the metal handrail. “I tried to kill myself not long after. I was confused to say the least. I thought I was in love with her.”
Isabella’s heart broke for her friend. She came up behind Chloe and rubbed her back, letting her know she was safe to continue. She wouldn’t judge her.
“My therapist showed me that my teacher had taken advantage of me,” Chloe said, her voice stronger now. “That even though part of me had enjoyed the attention and the sex, I wasn’t in the position of giving consent.” She looked over her shoulder at Isabella, her gaze searching and just a bit knowing. “I’m not telling you this so that you feel bad for me. I’m telling you this because I don’t want to see you get hurt. Sleeping with a professor, even a hot one like Professor Kelley, won’t end well.”
Her friend’s advice shook Isabella to her core. Did she really suspect something was going on between her and Tristan, or was it just a friendly warning? A huge part of her wanted to tell Chloe about Tristan. After all, she would understand. But something held her back.
She squeezed Chloe’s shoulder. “No, I imagine it wouldn’t. I am sorry that happened to you, but I can assure you, Professor Kelley isn’t taking advantage of me.”
Chloe gave a single nod and flipped around to face the campus. “Wow, what a view. You can see the entire campus from up here. Come closer, silly, and look.”
From her spot, she could see the tops of the trees. Any closer and she’d see how far she could fall. “No, I’m good from here.”
Chloe snorted and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her the couple of inches to the railing. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. The wall is high enough that even if you did trip, the worst that would happen is you might bang your head against it.”
She was right. The top of the brick reached her chest, and there was another foot of railing on top of it. No one could accidentally fall over the railing, unless they climbed the ledge.
Still, she didn’t look down at the ground. Instead, she kept her gaze level, which gave her a perfect view of Edison University’s campus. Now she understood why couples sneaked up there to kiss. Thinking of Tristan, she located Dean Lancaster’s house and tracked the path that they’d taken together.
She smiled at Chloe. “It’s beautiful up here. I’m glad you brought me.”
Chloe nibbled on her lower lip. “Isabella, there’s—”
Her phone blared from her pocket. “Hold on.” She held up one finger and checked her cell’s screen, expecting to send the caller to voice mail. Her stomach flip-flopped at the familiar number and she quickly answered. “Hello?”
“Hi, Isabella,” prosecuting attorney Erin said, in that same breathless voice she’d used the last time she’d called. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Friday night, but I promised to call you if there was any news. I just got a phone call from Tony’s psychiatrist. He’s not going to extend the petition for the continuing order of involuntary health treatment. There’s a hearing next Friday at one in the court. Tony is going to be released from inpatient care.”
A crushing weight on her chest made it difficult to breathe. She’d known his release was imminent, but now that the moment was here, it had knocked her sideways.
“What does that mean?” she asked. “He just walks free?”
Days. That’s all she had left. Then Tony’s freedom meant the loss of hers. Because no matter where she went, she’d walk in fear.
“No, he’ll still be required to attend daily outpatient treatment,” Erin said, as if that would reassure her. “I know you’re scared, but you have the restraining order. If he violates it, he’ll go to jail this time, not the hospital. I wish I had better news, but you knew when we made this deal with the defense that the day would come when Tony would get out of the hospital.”
Warmth enveloped her. In her panic, she hadn’t even realized that Chloe had put her arm around her. “I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“You’re twelve hours away. You’re safe in Edison. But if he does contact you, you let me know and I’ll make sure he goes away for much longer than eighteen months.”
The attorney meant well, but she didn’t understand.
Life isn’t fair.
How many times had Isabella heard that phrase?
Too many to count.
But until she’d dealt with the legal system, she hadn’t really comprehended it. She’d thought the law was created to protect victims like her, but she’d learned the hard way that she was wrong.
It protected the accused.
The guilty.
“Isabella? Talk to me,” Chloe said, worry etched on her face.
Isabella glared at her phone. She couldn’t even remember hanging up with Erin. “He’s getting out,” she whispered. “Tony’s getting out of the hospital.”
“What?” Chloe threw her arms up in the air. “They can’t do that.”
“Apparently they can.”
Her friend grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry. I’m here for you, okay? You’re not alone. Not anymore.”
Tony would be loose in the world, and she had only a piece of paper to protect her.
That piece of paper wouldn’t help her sleep.
It wouldn’t help her concentrate in class.
And it wouldn’t keep her from wondering when or how he’d try to kill her again.
Fourteen
Tristan had gotten as far as leaving Edison’s city limits before he turned his car around and went back to his apartment.
He just couldn’t do it.
; He’d imagined himself at a play party with a faceless, naked sub bent over a spanking bench who was waiting for his hand. When that face had morphed into his Angel’s, he’d known he was fucked.
Because he didn’t want a faceless sub.
He only wanted his Angel.
And it wouldn’t have been fair to use another woman as a substitute for her.
Especially since it wouldn’t have worked.
Instead, he’d spent a couple of hours at the university’s gym, lifting weights and running on the treadmill. Freshly showered, he was still too keyed up to return to the confining space of his apartment.
After grabbing a sub sandwich, he decided to walk around campus. On the weekends, most students preferred to hang off campus at the bars and clubs on Main Street, which meant the campus itself was pretty dead, so long as he stayed away from the dorms and the sports arena.
The sun began dipping below the pink and purple horizon. The air smelled crisp, like burnt leaves and pine. Fall had always been his favorite season, but for the last several years, he’d forgotten to enjoy it. As a kid, he’d played in the leaves, raking them into piles before jumping into them. He and his mother would take hayrides at the nearby orchards, where’d they pick their own apples off the trees and find the biggest pumpkins in the patch. At Edison, it meant bonfires, tailgating, and football. And only a few hours away, he’d usher in the season with a walk through the most awe-inspiring forest in the state.
But when he’d moved back to the city after college, he’d been too busy to celebrate autumn. Morgan wouldn’t be caught dead on a hayride or picking her own fruit. The fall months were no different than any other time of the year. Returning to Edison was a reminder to slow down. To enjoy every day as if it were his last. He’d missed this.
He strolled down the path, unconsciously taking himself to the spot where he’d last had his lips on Isabella’s—the Edison Tower.
What was it about this woman that made him nearly lose control?
It wasn’t about sex, although he couldn’t deny he wanted to fuck her.
Hard, often, and in every way possible.
But he wanted so much more from her.
Her thoughts…her feelings…her fears…her dreams.
Her submission.
She was a lit match and he was gasoline. Together they would burn hot and bright. But what would their flames destroy as a result?
He ran his hand down his cheek when a streak of red on top of the tower caught his attention. He squinted, sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. But the image didn’t disappear.
It was Isabella.
What the hell was she doing on top of the Edison Tower? Was she up there with another man?
Had he imagined their connection earlier?
He paced back and forth in the shadow of the tower.
He had no right to be jealous. She was free to date. It was better this way. If she was taken, then he couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t taste her. Couldn’t dominate her.
Fuck that.
Before he could think about the consequences, he’d burst through the door and bolted up the stairs to the top. With all the crazy things he’d done in college, he’d never broken into the tower and come up there.
Like she was a beacon, he spotted her immediately. The wind blew her hair in all directions as she stood as still as a statue at the railing. She was still wearing the same light long-sleeved blue shirt and jeans as earlier. No jacket. Even from several feet away, he could see her shivering.
The sadist in him itched to spank her for not taking better care of herself and wearing a coat.
The Dom in him needed to wrap her in his arms to warm her.
But the man in him…just wanted her.
Not wanting to scare her by his sudden presence, he made sure to make noise as he came outside, stomping his feet on the concrete floor.
She whirled around, her hand over her chest. A blush crawled up her neck. “What are you doing up here?”
“I was out walking and saw you up here. Came to see if…” He stopped as he took her in. Her skin was paler than usual, and her eyes were red rimmed. “You’ve been crying.”
She lowered her gaze and rubbed her thumb over her wrist. “It’s nothing.”
He strode to her and tipped up her chin. “It’s not nothing. Was it me? Did I upset you?”
“No,” she whispered. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
She looked so fragile. Like a porcelain doll. Small and breakable.
Her eyes were haunted. He’d seen that in her only one other time. During their negotiations when he’d mentioned bondage.
He lifted her hand and turned it palm up, exposing her wrist. “Does it have something to do with your scars?”
She tried jerking her hand back, but he refused to let go. He’d dropped the subject that first night because she was a stranger. She wasn’t a stranger anymore.
She might not tell her professor.
But she sure as hell was going to tell her Dom.
“Tell me, Angel,” he demanded.
She froze, her pupils dilating in response to his order. Still shivering, she exhaled a shuddered breath and fixed her stare on his chest. “It’s not easy for me to talk about it. God, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Try the beginning.” He took off his coat and offered it to her.
She didn’t hesitate to accept, slipping her arms into it and pulling it closed. A long pause followed as she turned away from him and stared out over the railing. He’d just about given up hope, when the words spilled from her lips. “Tony was the boy next door and my very best friend up until our freshman year of high school, when our friendship bloomed into something more. I thought I loved him. Which was why I didn’t notice the changes.”
“Changes?”
“The summer before our sophomore year, he started getting jealous of the time I spent with my girlfriends. It was so gradual, I didn’t realize that by the time school started up again, I hadn’t seen my friends in weeks. As the months went by, he became more and more possessive.”
He brushed a piece of hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. “None of your friends confronted you about it?”
She studied her shoes as if they were the most interesting items in the world. “Maybe in the beginning, but Tony said they were just jealous of us because we were so lucky to have found each other so young.” Her shoulders dropped on a breath and, finally, she met his gaze. “Dreama figured out something wasn’t right. I had become withdrawn. Quiet. Anxious. She had an intervention with me at her apartment and made me see that Tony didn’t need to physically hurt me for it to be abuse. It was one of the hardest things I ever did, but I broke up with him.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t take it well?”
She shook her head. “At first, he was completely understanding. He told me we’d always remain friends and apologized for hurting me.” Pausing and taking a deep breath, she bit her lip hard enough that he was surprised she hadn’t drawn blood. “But a few days later, it all changed. It was as if he refused to acknowledge we’d broken up. He was constantly calling and texting me. Showing up at my house for dinner. So, I told him that I needed my space. I was so angry, so tired of having to deal with it. It just…slipped out.” She looked him in the eyes. “I told him to pretend I was dead.”
Tristan’s stomach clenched at her anguish. He brushed a tear away with his knuckle.
He wanted to make it all better for her. Make it so she never cried again.
She took another ragged breath before continuing. “A week later, he caught me in an empty parking lot as I was getting into my car at the mall. I didn’t see him behind me until it was too late.”
“What did he do to you?” Tristan asked, his voice cracking.
“He knocked me out with an injection of ketofol he’d stolen from his father’s vet practice and brought me to his family’s summer cabin.” Her voice had grown quiet as she seemed lost in the memory.
“When I woke up, I couldn’t move a muscle. The drugs he gave me kept me immobile. He had a knife.”
Her scars.
She didn’t have to say any more. Tristan grabbed both of her hands and brushed his thumbs over the raised pink lines on her wrists.
The son of a bitch could’ve killed her.
Had tried to kill her.
The idea that he could’ve gone through life not knowing she existed made his soul hurt.
He laced their fingers together, connecting them. Never wanting to let go. “How did you get away?”
“Dreama. We were supposed to have dinner, and when I didn’t show, she got worried. Turns out she’d put some GPS app on my phone that linked to her cell. My parents recognized the location and called the police. They got there before I…”
Died.
The unspoken word hung in the air like a storm cloud.
She shook her head. “Doctors said he wasn’t sane at the time of the incident. There was a chance the jury would find him not guilty by reason of insanity. And I just wanted it to be over. I agreed to a deal. Involuntary commitment to a mental hospital and a restraining order. There’s a hearing next Friday. They’re going to release him.” Tears streamed freely down her cheeks now.
“Oh, Angel.” He took her in his arms, holding her tight. “Let me help you.”
“I can handle it myself. It’s not your fight,” she insisted, her chin raised in defiance.
There was his beautiful, strong-willed Angel. It was time to prove to her just how much power she had.
“Isabella, don’t you get it?” He placed his hands on her cold cheeks. “Your fight is my fight.”
* * *
Isabella hated feeling powerless.
Her fate was in the hands of the court. In this case, there’d be no jury or testimony. Tony would have an attorney representing him, but Isabella would not. If the judge permitted Erin to speak, she could raise the evidence of the letter, but it was unlikely the court would intervene. If Tony’s physicians attested that he was no longer a danger to himself or others and would willingly participate in therapy, the judge would release him.
Chloe had vowed to stand by her side and help her through this. She hadn’t even wanted to go to her audition, but Isabella had forced her. Nothing would happen until Monday. For now, she was safe.
