Chapter 16
Ash
He’s laughing. It’s not something you hear from Tristan all the time, not a real laugh, anyway. And here he is, laughing. It’s the perfect sound as we walk down the street with his arm around me.
Tristan has been showing me more of his life, what he does, where he goes, and who he’s with. He even did something nice and stopped to get me ice cream.
For the most part, I think Tristan is misunderstood by many. Of course, he does erratic things, and sometimes they are beyond reason, but deep down inside of him, I think he has a good heart.
“So this is what you’re doing now? Does Ben know about this?” I hear Tim’s voice and stiffen in Tristan’s arms.
“Who the fuck are you?” Tristan asks him.
“I could ask you the same,” he responds, his eyes moving to me. I try to pull away from Tristan, but he doesn’t allow it.
“You really cheating on Ben? Are you some kind of whore now?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, I know it means trouble.
Tristan pulls away from me and grabs his knife so quickly that I barely have a chance to respond.
“What did you just say to her?” he asks, pressing the knife to Tim’s cheek.
“What are you going to do? Kill me?” Tim taunts, not knowing that he shouldn’t.
“Call her something else, and I will. I will fucking gut you right here on the street and get away with it.”
“I doubt that.”
“Let’s find out then, shall we?”
“Tristan, let’s just go,” I tell him, trying to pull his arm away from Tim. It’s no use.
“I’m not done yet,” he snarls at me. He presses the knife into Tim’s cheek until he cries out in pain, and blood leaks down his face. I gasp as Tristan pulls back and wipes the flat edge of the blade across Tim’s lips.
“I warned you. Don’t make me warn you again.”
“I’m calling the cops,” he snivels.
“Good. Good for you,” Tristan taunts him a little more before stepping back and shoving his knife back into the sheath. He turns to me, grabs my hand, and starts walking once more. I don’t know what to say to him, so I say nothing. We keep walking, but neither of us says a word. I hear sirens, and my insides drop. Did he really call the police on him? Why wouldn’t he?
“Stop overthinking it.”
“How can I? You cut him, Tristan!”
“He’s lucky that’s all I did,” he responds calmly.
“What else would you have done?”
“Just what I told him I would if he said another word.”
“You’re not a murderer.” Now he laughs. And it’s not a normal laugh. It’s sick, dark, and depraved.
“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.” I don’t know what else to say to him.
We walk back to the warehouse, and he opens the door, ushering me inside, but I don’t move. I stand in the doorway, unsure what to do.
“You scared of me, Little Nun?” he asks, turning to face me now.
“What was that back there?”
“That was me standing up for my girl. No one gets to call you a whore, Ash.”
“But … he was just being a jerk.”
“A jerk who won’t call you a whore anymore.”
“But what if-” He cuts me off.
“What if, what if, what the fuck if!” He roars, raising two fingers to his head. He repeatedly taps himself in the head with the tips as he eyes me. “You’re driving me insane! Do you want a man, Ash? Or you want a pussy because right now it’s hard to fucking tell.”
“Tristan, I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. Just calm the fuck down, Ash. You’re too uptight. Little fuckers like him just like to show off, and they hate when someone like me knocks their ass back down a little.”
“I don’t know,” I say softly. Tristan huffs and storms inside as I follow slowly behind him. He’s across the room, lighting a cigarette before dropping into the chair.
“Why don’t you strip for me.”
“What?”
“Strip. For. Me.”
“No.”
“Why? It isn’t like I haven’t seen you naked, Ash.”
“This isn’t the time. We need to talk about this.”
“We already did,” he says, bringing his cigarette to his lips.
“We didn’t. You can’t go around cutting people, Tristan.”
“Don’t like it, there’s the door, baby.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious.” I know he’s only saying that out of anger and that’s fine. I get it. I’m pushing him more than most people would, but he can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep hurting others just because of something they said.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. Strip for me.”
“I’m not stripping for you!”
“Well, we’re done fucking talking, so there isn’t much else to do.”
“Why can’t you just talk to me?”
“Okay. Okay. Fuck. What do you want to talk about?”
“What goes on in that head of yours,” I tell him. He laughs again and shakes his head.
“That’s the last thing you want to hear about, Ash.”
“I do want to hear about it.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you.” Those words are like a brick to his chest. I can see the way the breath rushes out of him, and his eyes narrow on mine. He isn’t sure what to say because he’s not used to having anyone care about him. I know his mom loves him but I also believe she finds him a hindrance at times. I’ve heard her and my dad talking about him, not knowing how to handle him.
Tristan is one of those people who are hard to love, but I think deep down, he has a heart that needs all the love and caring it can get.