Chapter 2
Tristan
Bella’s face filled the screen of my phone as I recalled what had happened the night I was arrested. Her eyes grew wider, her jaw falling open when I reached the part about my dad making an agreement with McScroodge to let me off the hook in exchange for me fixing his place up.
I didn’t tell her that the cost of repairs were coming out of my pocket; she felt guilty enough as it was.
“T, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. You should have given the police my name.”
“And then what? You would have lost this job opportunity with your friend and no doubt ended up homeless. Besides, I told you to run-”
“But it was my idea! You shouldn’t take the heat for me,” she protested, tears welling in her eyes. “This is my mess, T. It’s my responsibility-”
“Babe, chill,” I interrupted, knowing she was working herself into a panic attack.
When she first moved to Henderson, she had them often, terrified her dad would track her down and make her leave with him.
“Listen, it’s worked out for the best this way.
You’ve made it to Lincoln Vale, and now you have a roof over your head, and you’re earning money-”
“Yeah, and you’re left to clear up my mess.”
“And you know what? If we could go back in time, I would do the same thing over and over as long as it meant you were okay,” I replied, knowing in my heart of hearts how true that statement was.
More tears slid down her cheeks, which she brushed away with her sleeve. “You really are the best friend a girl could ever ask for.”
I winked, flexing my bicep. “I know.”
Despite her tears, she chuckled. “What’s he like? McFuckFace?”
“Miserable.” I lay back, resting against the headboard of my bed and doing my best to ignore the ache in my muscles. “He actually moaned at me earlier ‘cos I was using his electricity to power my speaker.”
The image of Ben McScroodge pushed to the front of my mind. All day, I’d been trying to ignore the way he’d looked at me when we first met, but his dark—almost black—eyes had loitered in the back of my head.
Despite him being a grumpy asshole with a cold heart, there was no denying how hot he was. I knew he was older than me; thirty-seven, if the quick Google check I’d done on him was accurate. And damn, he was in good shape.
His dark grey suit had clung to him, outlining every muscle in his arms, chest, and legs, and it didn’t take a genius to figure that he must have worked out.
A lot.
He would have been a helluva a lot hotter if his sculpted features weren’t set in a permanent scowl; not once was there a flicker of a smile at any point we’d interacted during the day. But it didn’t matter about his looks; his selfish heart made him ugly.
“I actually feel a bit sorry for him,” I said, more to myself.
“You feel sorry for McFuckFace?” Bella replied, annoyance coating her voice.
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. It’s clear the man doesn’t have any family or friends. He must be lonely.”
“That’s ‘cos he cares more about money than people.”
“Maybe. But doesn’t that make you wonder what kind of life he’s had to get here?”
“No,” Bella snapped. “And neither should you.”
“Hmm.” It was the only reply I could find. Something about McScroodge made me curious.
Bella sighed. “This is the problem with you, T. You try to see the good in everyone when some people just don’t have that.”
I couldn’t agree with her. Everyone had a good side in them, but some people buried it deep down inside and refused to let anyone discover that part of them. If there was ever an example of that, McScroodge was it.
“Well, at least in a month, you won’t have to have anything to do with him again. Think you can last that long against the world’s coldest bastard?”
I smirked, leaning forward. “Yep, and I think it will be easy.”
“Oh, yeah? How so?”
My grin widened. “Something my dad taught me when kids at school were being pricks. Don’t lower yourself to their level. Instead, kill them with kindness.”