by Chelsea Fine
“You did well tonight.” She came up beside him under the dim light of the moon.
“What do you want, Alex?”
She looked up at him through her thick lashes, her sharp eyes heavy with intent. She was beautiful and the epitome of sexuality. Most men would want nothing more than her attention after a night of fighting. Tristan was not most men.
“Why must I want something? Have you considered I may, perhaps, just enjoy your company?”
“I have considered that.”
Her fingertips touched his stomach and ran up his bare chest, sending a cool shiver over his sweat-glistened body.
“But then your hands find their way around my skin,” Tristan said, “and I begin to question the companionship you seek.”
She lifted her chin and brought her mouth near his, her lips so close he could smell the strawberries he’d seen her eating earlier. “We all need companionship, Tristan.” Her hands slid back down his body and traced the waistband of his fighting pants. “Even you, with your lonely soul.”
Tristan stared at the beautiful woman whose hands were doing dangerous things to his body. She had heat and vibrancy and a body that could probably do wonders for any man.
But she did not have fight or passion. And she did not have blue eyes that knew his secrets.
“I have no heart to give you,” he said.
Alex moved her hands across his chest. “I’m not after your heart.”
“Clearly.” Tristan kept his eyes steady on hers. “But I’m not interested.”
She smiled wickedly. “Not tonight, maybe.”
“Not ever.”
She kept her smile in place, but removed her hands from his body as she stepped back. “Very well, fighter.” She looked him up and down. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
CHAPTER 22
Boston 1892
Scarlet had been alive for exactly two days when Tristan suggested that Gabriel and Nathaniel—who now insisted on being called ‘Nate’—bring her to watch one of his matches.
He was boxing now? It was hard for Scarlet to wrap her head around her gentle, peaceful Hunter slamming his fists into another man’s flesh for sport and she had told him as much.
But Tristan had merely shrugged. He hadn’t spoken more than ten words to her since she’d come back to life and he’d treated her coldly every time they’d been in the same room together.
No hot glances. No acknowledgement of her feelings. Nothing.
She wasn’t sure what to make of his rude behavior, but she didn’t push him. Not because she didn’t plan to, but because she’d been gone for a hundred years and a lot can happen in a century.
Nate had warned her that Tristan had changed and, while Scarlet was sure that was true, she refused to believe he was a different person all together.
After agreeing to attend one of Tristan’s fights, she retreated to her bedroom in Gabriel’s house to dress. Things between her and Gabriel were a bit tense.
They’d had such a happy companionship in her last life, until she’d run off to heal Tristan like a love-sick puppy and returned to Gabriel with flashing eyes.
He hadn’t been mad at her, but he’d been disappointed. And maybe even a little heart-broken. So in this new life of hers, she didn’t know what to think about Gabriel. Especially with Tristan being as standoffish as he was.
She dressed herself—she was becoming rather good at the whole corset thing—and made her way back downstairs where Nate and Gabriel waited to take her to Tristan’s fight.
Her stomach filled with butterflies. And not the pretty kind.
**************
“Alex,” Tristan shut the door behind them so it was just she and him in the small back room of the fighting hall. “I need a favor.”
She turned to him, eagerness in her eyes. “A favor for Tristan? Yes, please.”
“Cut it out. I’m being serious.”
“You are always serious.” She pouted her lips.
Tristan turned to leave. This was a mistake.
“No, no. I’m just kidding.” Alex reached for his arm and turned him back around, desperation in her voice. “I will behave. I promise. What is it you need?”
He sighed. “I need a woman.”
A hungry look came over her face. “Then consider me yours. Shall I undress right here?”
His jaw flexed. “Could you, for one moment, cease to be obvious? I do not need your body, Alex. I need your assistance.”
“That sounds like the same thing.”
Tristan glared at her.
“Fine.” Her sex-laced voice disappeared. “What do you need?”
“I need you to put on a convincing show of your affections for me in front of a particular person.”
She narrowed her eyes. “A person? Or a girl?”
“A girl.”
“Ah.” Alex smiled. “This would be the girl that has your heart all to herself, no?”
Tristan didn’t answer.
“I will be happy to fawn over you,” Alex said. “And who knows? You might even enjoy it.” She winked.
He clenched his jaw at the thought of breaking Scarlet’s heart.
“I will hate every second of it,” he said, sinking deeper into his self-loathing as he explained to Alex what he wanted her to do.
***************
Scarlet watched the fight and the butterflies in her stomach grew uglier.
While she understood there was something liberating about fighting—she had invested good time and money into learning to fight—she hated every fist that crashed into Tristan’s body and drew blood from his torn skin.
Her eyes skimmed him over, lingering on his bare chest. At the sight of his tattoo—his piece of Scarlet forever inked into his skin—the butterflies in her belly fluttered wildly. The tattoo was very faded and Scarlet figured immortal bodies could only hold a tattoo for so long before healing it away. She wondered how long it would be before her drawing disappeared completely from Tristan’s body.
Gabriel and Nate sat on either side of her. Apparently, not many women came to these fights and Gabriel was being extra protective of her. She reached for Gabriel’s hand and held it with her own, squeezing it gently. He turned and smiled at her as the bell rang to signal the end of the last fight.
Thank God. She didn’t think she could handle watching more of Tristan’s blood spill.
She watched Tristan, covered in sweat and blood, walk to the outer ring to where a short man with a cigar was making broad hand gestures and visibly spitting as he spoke.
Tristan turned around, as if he were looking for someone, and soon his eyes landed on his target.
A beautiful redhead stood off to the side, watching the ring from the contestant’s area as if she were an organizer of some sort. The redhead saw Tristan and desire lit up her eyes.
Scarlet had been watching women react to Tristan for centuries, so the women’s interest in the green-eyed fighter was not surprising. Tristan’s reaction to her, however, was shocking.
He smiled and the redhead came up to him without any hesitation, slowly wrapping her sexually sculpted body around Tristan’s hard muscles and tight skin.
Scarlet blinked.
Tristan did not refuse the woman, but embraced her back, his mouth coming down to the woman’s neck as he murmured something below her ear while the woman ran her hands up his back and into his hair.
That was Scarlet’s Hunter. That was hair only Scarlet could run her hands through. Those were green eyes only Scarlet could look at with such lust and want.
Scarlet’s heart began to pound as she watched in horror as the woman turned her outrageously beautiful head to the side and caught Tristan’s mouth in a kiss. An intimate, wet kiss that spoke volumes of how very comfortable the two of them were with each other and Scarlet stopped breathing.
Beside her, a muttered curse fell from Gabriel’s’ mouth and Scarlet tried to get control of her emotions. Every single piece of her wanted to jum
p from her seat, charge over to the woman whose hands were laced around Tristan, and rip her lips from her face.
Gabriel’s mouth was suddenly at Scarlet’s ear. “Let’s go.”
Scarlet blinked again and realized she’d been squeezing the blood from Gabriel’s hand as she watched the exchange between Tristan and the redhead.
“Why would we leave?” Her voice cracked.
Gabriel looked at Scarlet with a pained expression, searching her eyes for the truth. “Scarlet…” He looked her over like he wasn’t sure what to do with her.
“Why would we leave?” she repeated, feeling hot tears behind her eyes.
Gabriel stroked a strand of hair from her cheek and she could tell he was trying to come up with something to say.
“Why would we…” Scarlet tried to finish her repeated question, but a tear fell from her eye and her throat closed off.
Gabriel cursed again and, rising from his seat, gathered Scarlet up beside him and shuffled her through the crowd and to the back door, Nate right behind them.
Everything was blurry and hot and suffocating as Scarlet blindly let Gabriel usher her outside and into the carriage that awaited them. No one said a word as the three of them rode in silence back to Gabriel’s home.
Scarlet bit the inside of her cheek, dug her nails into her arms, curled her toes…anything she could think of to keep her tears at bay. But soon the pressure was just too much and she no longer wanted to fight.
She had lost Tristan.
Scarlet began to openly cry. Because, before this night, there had never been a doubt in her mind that Tristan loved her. But now….
Scarlet hide her face in her hands as more tears fell and felt warm arms come around her.
Gabriel lifted her into his lap and turned her into him so her face was against his jacket, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
Forget the curse and the immortal blood that pulsed in her chest.
This—this searing ache cutting through her core—this was a broken heart.
*************
With Alex still in his arms, Tristan yanked his mouth away from her and gripped the back of her neck. Hard.
“Ow,” Alex complained. “Tristan, what are you—“
“What the hell was that?” he asked darkly, murder in his veins.
Alex batted her lashes. “You wanted me to be convincing, didn’t you?”
Tristan thrust his hand away from her neck and stepped back. Scarlet’s heartbreak and deep pain was rushing into him and it made him want to vomit. “Not that convincing.”
Alex rubbed the back of her neck, then smiled at him. “Oh, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.” She stepped back over to him. “And so did I.”
“You could rub your naked body against an elephant and enjoy it.”
Alex cocked her head. “I’ve never seen you so angry before.” She smirked. “Who is this girl you so deeply wanted to wound tonight?”
“I did not want to wound her. I wanted to send her a message.”
Throwing her head back, Alex laughed. “Oh, message received, I’m sure.”
Tristan pushed past Alex and made his way into the back room. The redhead trailed after him.
Scarlet was hurting so much—it was all he could do not to chase after her and drop to his knees in apology and beg her to forgive him. His chest began to tighten. His hands were shaking. Dammit.
He stopped at his locker and gathered his things to leave for the night.
Alex leaned against the locker beside his, making sure her body brushed against him with the motion. Tristan slammed his locker closed and refused to look at her. He was suffocating. Scarlet was suffocating. What had he done?
His heart pounded and shriveled at the same time. He cursed.
Alex clucked her tongue at him in pity. “Whoever this girl is, she has you completely imprisoned.”
Tristan shrugged away from the despicable woman and headed out the back door. “You have no idea.”
He had broken the most precious thing he’d ever known and there was no turning back.
CHAPTER 23
First thing the next morning, Gabriel marched into Tristan’s house, barreling into the back room where Tristan spent every waking hour beating the crap out of a punching bag.
“What. The. Hell.” Gabriel was seething. He slammed the workout room door closed so it was just he and his brother surrounded by mats, boxing gloves, and the smell of sweat, as Tristan glanced at him and then went back to punching.
Gabriel had never felt his jaw pull so tight. “That was your plan? That was your plan?!”
How could he do that to Scarlet?
He wanted to roar. “I understand that you needed to keep Scarlet from touching you, but don’t you think that was a bit cruel last night?”
“Yep.” Tristan threw another punch into his hanging target, dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in years.
“Scarlet’s a person, Tristan! You can’t hurt her like that. You can’t, you can’t—”
“I can’t what?” Tristan caught the swinging bag. “Break her heart?”
Gabriel pursed his lips.
Tristan steadied the bag and rolled his shoulders. “It was the only way.” He punched again.
“No.” Gabriel shook his head, fury and protectiveness making his muscles jump. “It wasn’t fair. Go tell her the truth.”
“What truth would that be?”
“I don’t know, but you let her believe something that’s not honest.”
“No. I let her see something. She chooses to believe whatever she wants.”
“She cried, Tristan!”
Tristan’s fists froze, the only sound in the room the creak of the chain the punching bag swung from.
He swallowed. “She’ll be fine.” He went back to punching.
“No, she won’t.”
“You don’t give her enough credit, Gabe. She’s brave and stubborn and tough as hell. She’s not the breakable doll you want her to be.”
“I don’t care if she’s made of steel, Tristan. Because of you, she’s in pain.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure it’s less pain than the pain she suffers when she’s dying.”
“You’re an ass.”
Tristan nodded. “Yep.” Then an odd glint entered his eyes as he stopped and stared at Gabriel. He cocked his head. “You love her.”
“Of course, I love her.”
“No.” Tristan wiped a hand across his forehead. “You love her more than you used to. You want to protect her.” He said this like it was a revelation.
“Quit changing the subject.” Gabriel pointed to the door. “Go fix this.”
“No.” Tristan threw another punch into the bag. Then another.
“You need to apologize to her. She loves you!”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Tristan quit punching and faced Gabriel, breathing heavy from his exertion. “Her love for me is like poison and you just enable it. You just keep letting her love me.” He shook his head. “I asked you to take her away and what are you doing? Telling me to apologize to her? To tell her the truth? You’re just as destructive as she is! Don’t you see? If I don’t do this—if I don’t break her heart—the cycle will never end! She’ll die and die and die. And you’re just chicken shit enough to let her.” Tristan’s eyes were wild and reckless. “So she cries. So what? Take care of her, dammit! Don’t come to me with your bullshit wants and needs like I just made your life hell. I’m in hell. I’m in hell.” He jabbed at his sweaty chest with a finger. “But I’m also the only one unafraid to make hard decisions around here. So, don’t tell me what to do.” He started unwrapping the bindings from his hands, his green eyes cold as they focused on the task.
Gabriel was enraged, but more than that, he was flooded with disappointment. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, well,” Tristan threw his undone wrappings to the floor, “I hate you too.�
� He pushed past Gabriel, the door to the room swinging open and closed with a heavy thud.
CHAPTER 24
There is a difference between a heart that no longer aches and a heart that no longer feels. And Scarlet’s heart no longer felt anything.
Not joy. Not pain. Not love. Not hate.
Nothing.
She didn’t know if Tristan cared for the redhead he’d kissed, or if he’d just wanted Scarlet to assume he cared. But either way, Tristan had wanted to hurt her. And the revelation had changed her.
A switch had gone off inside Scarlet, extinguishing the light of Tristan and leaving her dark and numb. Safe from pain.
She no longer loved Tristan because she no longer loved anything.
That is the beauty of a heart that no longer feels.
CHAPTER 25
Boston 1895
“You know,” Gabriel mused as Scarlet lined up another arrow, aimed, and released. “Most women pass their time walking with parasols and visiting dance halls.”
She pulled another arrow. “Most women are boring.”
Drawing back on her bow, she released the arrow into the long hall before her and watched as it pierced the target ahead.
“Very true. There is nothing boring about an armed woman. Alarming, perhaps. But certainly never boring.”
Scarlet lowered her bow. “What are you doing here, Gabriel?”
“Watching you shoot arrows.”
After the Tristan Incident—that’s what she was calling it, the Tristan Incident—Scarlet refused to be codependent ever again. She had precious few years to live and she wanted to make the best of it—without the assistance of over-protective immortals.
So she’d bought her own home and she made her own friends. She made a life for herself and for the first time in all her centuries, Scarlet felt like an adult. She needed no one, so she never sought out Nate or Gabriel.
Though that didn’t stop them from coming to her.
Nate visited once a week to draw her blood. He was working on a vaccine, hoping to cure Scarlet through medicine. She had no such hopes, but she let him draw her blood anyway.
