"I don't want that. What do money and things mean to me when the most important part of this life you've given me isn't there anymore?"
Pressing my lips to his, I kissed him tenderly, feeling his sadness. I didn't know why he was so tortured, but it tore me up to watch him like this. Those brown eyes that spoke volumes were crying out in pain, despite his ability to hold back the tears.
"Nina, are we just putting off the inevitable?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper, as if merely saying the words scared him as much as they did me.
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his. "No. I'm not leaving you, no matter how fucked up you say you are. I love you, Tristan Stone. You better just get used to it."
He let out a huge sigh and I wrapped my arms around his neck, wishing that a hug would give him even a little comfort.
"Promise me something?"
"Anything, Tristan."
"Promise me someday when this is all over you'll forget all the bad and just remember I loved you."
Taking me in his arms, he kissed me, pulling me into him like he couldn't get me close enough. There was a desperation in him that I wished I could reach to prove that I loved him and vow that I would never leave, no matter what he tried to do to tear us apart.
When he was like this—so raw and vulnerable—I had a hard time reconciling the man who said so little and could be so cold. As we made love, we clung to each other, Tristan taking the strength I offered, as if nothing and no one could come between us.
I just prayed to God that was true.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tristan
The low beat of a techno song from a room on the other side of Top reverberated through the building, making the floor beneath me vibrate as I sat staring up at the TV on the wall across from me. Some movie about a mobster played, but I wasn't paying attention.
I'd been at Top for two nights, unable to go home and missing Nina more than I could handle. I couldn't be around her, though. Not now.
Each night I laid in bed afraid to close my eyes, afraid of the nightmares. A new one had taken over my nights since coming back from Atlanta. I saw my face hovering over the body of a naked girl smiling up at me. She reached out for me, and my hands grabbed at her breasts, pinching and tugging until she cried out in pain. Each time, she screamed a single word over and over. Taylor. I knew that wasn't my name, but I couldn't stop myself from wrapping my hands around her throat and slowly squeezing the soft flesh until there was no more life left in her. Gentle brown eyes stared up at me in surprise that I could hurt her as I backed away into a someone who stood behind me.
My father.
He patted me on the back all the while wearing a smile. He said nothing but stared at me like he admired me for what I'd just done to the girl.
Pouring myself another glass of scotch, I leaned back against the leather couch and closed my eyes, letting the alcohol slide down my throat. I didn't know how much more it would take, but I needed it to make me numb. I didn't want to think anymore. I wanted to not care anymore. To not miss Nina like someone had cut out my heart and left a painful, aching hole in my chest.
Karl's announcement that morning that he'd gotten copies of Joseph Edwards' notes from Nina's sister had given me a second's peace and made me believe for a fleeting moment that all the terrible events put in motion by my father would finally end. That we'd finally be free to live without the past haunting our every step.
But Karl wasn't a man to let things go that easily. Kim's copies were just that. Copies. He wanted the actual notes Joseph Edwards took as he dug into the horrible world of Stone Worldwide and knew I had them.
You didn't think I wouldn't have you followed, Tristan? Did you? For God's sake, I had your father and brother followed, and I trusted them. I know where you've been and I know what you have. If you're smart, and I think you are, just give it all up and never tell her what happened and you'll be fine.
Are you threatening me now, Karl?
Son, I'm not the man to play with. This shark doesn't care if your father thought you were a piranha or not.
At least I now knew why Kim hated me from the moment she met me in Nina's hospital room. She'd judged me to be the same kind of man my father and brother had been. Could I blame her? Two Stone men nothing better than lying murderers. Who would want their sister to be involved with a man like that?
Was I truly any better? I'd brought Nina into my world believing I was keeping her safe, but it had been my own selfishness more than anything else. I was no different than I'd ever been. I wanted something and used my money to get it. Typical Stone behavior.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the door to the private room open. "Get out! I told you I didn't want to be bothered, Chase."
"It's not Chase. It's me, Tristan," a woman's voice said quietly.
I turned to see Brandi standing with her back against the door, frightened by my barking. I wasn't in the mood to hear her sad stories about that asshole ex or current or whatever the f**k type of boyfriend Chase was to her now.
"I want to be alone, Brandi."
"I know. I just wanted to check to see if you needed anything."
She moved cautiously from the door as I turned back to stare at the TV. Taking a seat next to me on the couch, she touched my arm softly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I lied. "Just want to be alone."
"Sometimes when things are bad it's good to talk to someone. You've done that for me more than once. Maybe if you talk about it you'll feel better."
I drank the final gulp of scotch in my glass, enjoying the warmth as it sat in my mouth for a moment before I swallowed. "There's nothing to talk about."
Brandi shifted herself to face me and took my hand. "I hate to see you like this, Tristan. I can't believe someone who has so much could be so sad."
"Well, believe it."
I felt her squeeze my hand and looked over to see her grinning at me. "I have something that I think might make you feel better, at least for a little while."
"Brandi, don't," I said flatly as I pulled my hand away.
"You know you'd feel better. Just a little. Chase said it could help."
I knew what she meant and I should have told her to leave. I knew that. But as I sat there thinking about Nina and what I knew I had to do, all I wanted was some relief from the pain. A tiny reprieve from my sentence.
Brandi slipped a small box from behind her back and spread out three lines of coke on the coffee table in front of us. She snorted the first line and sniffing, flopped back on the couch and pointed toward the rest of it sitting there waiting for me.
"Your turn."
Leaning forward, I looked down at the white powder that had given me so many nights of good times. Clean since the crash, I hadn't even thought of getting high, but now as it sat there waiting to give me the relief it always had, I could think of nothing but the feeling I'd have in just a few minutes.
Blocking my left nostril, I inhaled a line and closed my eyes. A rush coursed through my head and instantly I remembered why I loved coke all those years ago. In minutes, I was on top of the world—powerful, free, and happy. Truly happy, like the way I felt every time Nina told me she loved me.
One more line and everything that had tortured my mind for weeks was gone, replaced by pure bliss. My heart raced and my body felt like it could run a marathon. Brandi was a novice, so it didn't take more than a line for her to be bouncing off the walls. She seemed to be talking a hundred miles a minute about how she wished Chase was like me, but I wasn't listening. I didn't care about her problems.
All I cared about was that mine had vanished, at least for the moment.
Brandi's hand fastened on my crotch, and she licked her lips in an attempt to be seductive. "Tell me you don't love fucking when you're high, Tristan. Nobody would have to know. You know it would be great."
I didn't want to f**k Brandi. That would only make me feel worse. I had someone I loved already. It didn't matter that I couldn't be with her. I still loved her.
"Get your hand off your boss's cock, Brandi. If Chase doesn't fire you, I will. You're ruining this."
She wasn't going to be that easily convinced. Sliding her palm up and down my zipper, she cooed, "You're not my boss, Tristan. You only own the place. I guess that makes you my owner. Oooh, I like that."
"You know he's got cameras all over this place. Look around. At least smile for your boyfriend as you try to f**k someone else in front of him," I snapped, already hating how this was turning out.
Brandi rubbed her body up against my arm like a cat in heat. "Mmmm, that would be hot. Come on, baby. It will help you forget whatever's making you so sad."
Her lips pressed against mine, and all I could taste was the flavor of her spearmint gum. She jabbed her tongue into my mouth as her hands attempted to pull my shirt out of my pants, but I didn't want any of what she had to offer. I pushed her off me, and she fell back against the arm of the couch, her legs wide open.
"You know you want it, Tristan. Just let it happen. Don't fight it."
The door flung open before I could repeat that I didn't want her, but it was too late. There in the doorway stood Nina watching Brandi rub her pus**sy through her shorts as she did her best to convince me to f**k her.
"What the f**k is this?" Nina asked, her voice full of hurt.
Brandi leaped off the couch and began explaining how she had just wanted to help me feel better. It only made things worse and made me look guiltier.