Chapter 8
eight
M y breath came out quickly, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I stomped down the hall, heading for the exit. I needed fresh air. Open space. No walls. And a new fucking house.
Living with Tristan wouldn’t cut it.
How the hell had this happened? No way was this a coincidence. I wasn’t buying it. Tristan had orchestrated this arrangement. I was sure of it, just as I was sure the damn grass was green. But why?
What did he want from me other than to make me miserable and torture me?
I cursed myself for not paying more attention. Had Anna mentioned Tristan transferred to FSU over the summer? Or during the car ride here? Had Preston? I couldn’t remember. I’d spaced out so often, my mind trailing off into those dark corners I tried hard to avoid. Or perhaps my subconscious had known Tristan attended FSU and buried it so my conscious mind wouldn’t object. I was convinced my subconsciousness was obsessed with Tristan.
Sam would lose her shit when she found out we were rooming in the same house as Tristan Fucking Malone. Should I call her now? Break the news over the phone or wait until tomorrow? Then we both could march down to the admissions office together and demand, threaten even if that’s what it took, they move us.
I didn’t see the point in unpacking since I wouldn’t be staying more than a night.
I shoved open the front door, inhaling long as I tossed my head back to the late afternoon sun. Orange, red, and splashes of yellow streaked across the soft blue canvas above. Puffy white clouds moved lazily in the sky, forming and reforming in a variety of shapes. Birds chirped in the nearby palm trees, and a faint trace of orange lingered as a breeze blew past.
I started walking, not caring where I went as long as it was far from Thorn Hall.
Was it too late to for me transfer to another university? Nothing was impossible, right? Surely, I could start applying now, if not for this semester, then the next, because I could not be on the same campus as Tristan—as the guy who blackmailed me. Who had gone from a friend to...someone I didn’t know anymore.
I felt the tears rising. The very point of coming to college had been to leave my past behind me, not drag it with me. That’s what Tristan represented. All the shit I wanted to forget. Mom. Preston. Who I’d been.
Sam didn’t count. She was the only part of my past I wanted to tow with me into my future—the one constant in my life that I needed to remain. I wanted to embrace change and roll with the punches. No, I wanted to punch Tristan right in his smug, pierced mouth.
Lifting my scowling gaze from the ground, I noticed I’d stumbled onto Greek life, the sorority and fraternity houses of FSU. They lined the street on both sides, large Greek letters posted onto the front of the homes in various colors and shapes, all unique and structurally interesting.
It provided a momentary distraction as I slowly strolled down the path leading to campus. I walked around the grounds, studying the buildings and familiarizing myself with the layout for when classes started. This was something Sam and I planned to do together, but it didn’t hurt to get a head start.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee enticed me as I hooked around the corner, and once my nose got a whiff, the craving wouldn’t be tamed until I got a fix. Following the scent, I stumbled onto a little coffee café, Java Break. If the caffeine was strong, this might become my morning stop before class.
I was surprised to see a bit of a line this time of day, but with nothing else to do, I was happy to wait. When it was my turn, I rattled off my order and swiped my card. The barista, a cute guy with shoulder-length wavy hair, smiled at me. “First year?” he guessed.
“That obvious?” I replied, tucking a piece of windblown hair behind my ear.
He handed me my receipt. “When you’ve worked here for two years, you start to be able to spot the rookies. I’m Brody.”
“Everly,” I supplied politely. “So, you’re a junior I take it?”
He nodded. “Humanities major.”
I shoved the receipt into my back pocket. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Brody.”
With a teasing grin, he handed me my Vietnamese iced coffee. “Hope to see you around, Everly.”
“Oh, you will,” I assured, holding up my drink and giving him a sweet smile in return. “I’m addicted.”
“Isn’t everyone? Coffee is a college student’s best friend.”
This was just what I needed. A little harmless flirtation with a cute guy whose last name was not Malone. I thought. He hadn’t actually told me his last name, but it was safe to assume it wasn’t, probability and all that shit.
My steps a little lighter, I took my iced coffee and sat under an umbrella at one of the far corner tables outside. It was too nice of an evening to be caught indoors. I took a sip while I stretched my legs and leaned back against the chair. Fishing my phone out from where I stuffed it in my pocket, I sent a text to Sam along with a picture of me enjoying my first coffee at college.
Wish you were here
My phone buzzed a minute later.
Are you trying to make me jealous?
I smiled, conjuring Sam’s face, knowing how annoyed she must be having to deal with her car instead of moving into our dorm with me.
We texted for a few more minutes. Her Jeep had already been fixed, but it was too late in the day now for her to drive up and move in. She suggested coming anyway and leaving her shit in the car overnight. Sam worried about me, but I convinced her I’d be fine for the night.
I hadn’t mentioned Tristan. Not yet. Another reason it was best for her to wait. We wouldn’t be staying in that house.
I wanted to call her and unload all my aggravation and fury with the eldest Malone. It was the first thing that came to my mind, but I still had to explain my breakup with Preston. She knew we were no longer together but not the details behind the decision. I dreaded telling her. Her first reaction would be to kick Tristan’s ass, and rightly so.
Then again, Sam had been neither team Preston nor team Tristan, so maybe she would thank him. Sam always claimed Preston was too good, that he was hiding something under those glowing smiles of his.
Speak of the devil.
My phone buzzed again, and I assumed it was Sam. Nope.
Preston.
I ignored his call. A moment later, a text came through, and I groaned, knowing it was him.
Can we talk?
I sighed, lifting my gaze from the phone to stare at the courtyard surrounding the coffee shop. I was already having a less-than-stellar day. The last thing I wanted to do was listen to Preston list all the reasons we should get back together. Or hear him complain about not understanding why I broke up with him. I knew Preston, and he wouldn’t let me off the phone until I gave him what he wanted.
And I just couldn’t. Not yet. And if I honestly thought about it, I might never be able to give Preston what he wanted. To be a dutiful doctor’s wife who would look lovely and charming on his arm during charity functions. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to be that person.
Not now
I replied. I needed more time.
Time to figure out what the fuck Tristan’s deal was and how to delete those photos from his phone.
I didn’t want to admit it to Tristan, but perhaps he had done me a favor. I could use this year to figure my shit out and discover who or what I wanted to be. Not what everyone thought I should be.
The phone remained silent, and I didn’t have to see Preston’s face or hear his voice to know he was pouting. Preston was good at the silent treatment when he didn’t get his way.
Picking up my iced coffee, I took another long swig, needing the caffeine to calm my irritation. I should have brought a book with me, something relaxing to pass the time. It was getting close to dinner. I should be thinking about food, then I could go home, climb into bed, and curl up with that book. I definitely wouldn’t be watching TV in the common room. Avoiding Tristan tonight became my priority.
Sipping the last of my drink, I checked my emails and busied myself with social media. Everyone was posting about moving into their dorms, meeting their roommates, and the college parties happening tonight.
A movement from across my table caught my eye, and I lifted my gaze from my phone, taking in the two guys who decided to sit down and join me. Okay. Weird. There were two other empty tables in the area.
“Do I know you?” I asked, trying to be polite yet still cautious. I didn’t know these guys. I was a girl alone, new on campus. I’d heard more than my fair share of college harassment stories, which was why I had a small bottle of mace attached to my keychain.
They both looked like typical college jocks. Nothing about them stood out from every other guy on campus. One wore a deep red T-shirt with FSU on the front in gold letters. Original. The other wore a plain white tee and basketball shorts. “I think we have a mutual friend,” said the white-tee guy. He delivered the statement with a wry grin as his fingers tapped over the iron table.
I lifted my brows, my eyes volleying between the two of them. “Is that so? And who would that be?” How the fuck did either of them know who I was to determine we had a so-called mutual friend.
“Malone,” the other one informed. He had curly hair a shade darker than his friend’s and eyes that weren’t as friendly. Something in them alarmed me and set my spidey senses tingling.
I assumed they meant Tristan. Shifting in my seat, I replied, “I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend.” Not anymore. A fact that made me sadder than I wanted to admit.
They both snickered like they knew some dark secret about Tristan and me. “We need you to give him a message,” Shifty Eyes said.
I pinned him with a sour look. “Uh, sorry. But I’m not his secretary. You’ll have to track him down yourself.” Picking up my drink, I gathered my shit to leave, not willing to get involved in Tristan’s shady shit.
White-tee guy wasn’t letting me go so quickly. His hand darted across the table, landing on my wrist. “That’s the thing. He isn’t taking our calls.”
I lifted my gaze from the fingers attached to my arm to the guy they belonged to and narrowed my eyes at him. “Sounds like a you problem more than a me problem.” I jerked my hand, ice sloshing in my empty cup. I absolutely hated it when a guy got handsy with me.
Shifty Eyes laughed. “I like you, doll.” The insinuation in his voice indicated he didn’t like me as a friend but as a plaything. The world was full of creepy assholes. It didn’t matter where I went.
Trickles of fear weaved into my blood, joining the anger already present. I despised nicknames like love, honey, babe, or doll. Clinging to the fire in my gut, I let them see my shortening fuse on my temper flash in my eyes. “What the hell is?—”
A shadow loomed behind me. “Is there a problem?” someone behind me interrupted in a low voice that held just enough warning to have both asshole one and two snapping their gazes over my head.
Internally, I groaned. I didn’t need to turn around to know who’d come to my rescue. It was none other than Tristan Fucking Malone himself. The sound of his voice was as familiar as mine.
Surprise registered briefly in their eyes before turning into something else. Fear? They squirmed in their seats, looking like they wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Good. Now, these assholes could pass on their stupid message themselves. Leave it to Tristan to indirectly ruin my first day on campus.
“No problem,” White-tee guy assured Tristan. “We were just getting to know Everly, isn’t that right, doll?”
A snort breezed through my nose.
Tristan’s hands pressed onto the table as he lowered his head, leveling both guys a scowl. His dark hair was tousled. Anyone who saw him would think it was the wind. But I knew better. It had been the redheaded bimbo on his lap who had messed his hair up with her fingers. “Don’t,” Tristan growled. “You do not need to know her. I don’t want to see you talking to her again. Clear?”
They nodded, sweat actually forming on their brows.
Wasn’t this who they were looking for? Then why did they go pale and suddenly start stumbling over each other?
Satisfied, Tristan stood to his full height at my side. He wore the same clothes as earlier, black jeans and a T-shirt. “And the next time you call her doll, you won’t have any fucking teeth. Better yet, don’t talk to her at all.” His hand slipped under my elbow. “Let’s go, Ever.”
I swallowed and let him tug me to my feet. Somehow, going with Tristan was the safer option than staying here with assholes one and two.
Tristan’s hand drifted to the small of my back, guiding me away from the table and down the sidewalk. I didn’t say anything for a minute; my brain was still processing what the fuck happened. I caught a hint of his scent, and immediately, some of my aggravation dissipated.
NO! I scolded myself. Don’t do that. Tristan is not my safe place. He doesn’t get to calm you down with his damn presence.
As we crossed the street, I firmed my chin. “Care to explain what that was back there? Who are those guys? And how do they know who I am?” I rattled off, stepping away from his hand, but Tristan’s finger was hooked into the belt loop on my jean shorts, snapping me back to his side. When had he done that?
His tight-lipped frown remained as he tugged me by the back of my shorts. “It’s nothing for you to be concerned with. I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.”
I shoved strands of my blonde hair out of my face, puffing, “You fucking do that.”
“I’d forgotten what a mouth you have.” Amusement colored his tone. “If you’re not careful, it will get you in trouble. I might not always be there to save you, Ever.”
“Who the fuck said I needed you to save me? I’m not a damsel in distress. Besides, the only time I’m in trouble is because of you!” I dutifully pointed out.
Tristan came to a sudden halt, yanking me back so I more or less stumbled into him. His fingers landed on my hips, steadying me. Under heavily mascara-lined lashes, I glared up at him.
“Go home before more trouble finds you,” he said, those blue eyes of his dark and cloudy.
My mouth went dry. I wanted to remove my hands from his chest before I did something I’d regret, but there wasn’t enough space between us. “You don’t get to order me about, Tristan Malone. Not here,” I barked, clinging to my anger because the other emotions trying to push through were not good.
He chuckled, his breath warm on the top of my forehead. “We’ll see.”
God, what an egotistical prick!
He needed a good swift kick to the nuts. Something to shrink his inflated balls. I shoved his chest, taking a step back at the same time, praying the momentum would release me from his arms and I wouldn’t fall on my ass. He let me go, and I managed not to make a fool of myself. “How did you know I was here? Were you following me?” I hurled.
Shaking his head, he started walking again down the path, expecting me to follow. “What would you have done if I hadn’t happened to pass by?”
I trotted to catch up to him, not because he expected me to but because we were headed in the same direction. “I had the situation under control,” I insisted.
“Whatever you say, Ever. Just like that night at Lang’s party, huh?” he tossed over his shoulder.
The same night he took racy photos of me in his bed and then used them in the morning to blackmail me. I wasn’t pleased with the reminder. He stopped at the front stoop of Thorn Hall. I stepped right up to him, my fingers curled into balls. “When did you start to hate me so much?”
He braced a hand over my head on the white banister. “This has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
Heat prickled over my arms and the back of my neck like a rash. I couldn’t tell if it was irritation or something else. “Really, because it feels pretty fucking personal.”
He sighed, toying with the hoop on his lip. “Don’t be so sensitive.”
Okay. That’s it. Why did I think I would get any answers from him? “Just stay out of my way.”
He backed up, sweeping an arm toward the door. I shot him one last glare and bolted inside. Once I was through the front door, I didn’t spare Tristan another glance and stomped my ass up two flights of stairs to my room on the third floor. “Can you believe that jerk?” I mumbled to no one, pacing from wall to wall.
I let out an aggravated growl before plopping down onto the bed. You just have to survive one more night under the same roof. No biggie. What can happen in one night?
Turning my head to the side, I eyed the tubs of stuff not yet unpacked. I had no plans to unload them either. One night , I reminded myself. One fucking night.
After locating my box with a few paperbacks I’d brought with me, I climbed into bed and opened a mystery novel, snuggling deep into the covers. For the remainder of the night, I lost myself in the engaging story, doing my best to keep my mind from wondering which room Tristan slept in. Or if he was in bed alone. Had he brought the busty redhead with him?
He disgusted me.
Who brought home a hookup on their first night? I guess this really wasn’t Tristan’s first night at FSU. He was a senior now and probably knew the bimbo well. Was she his girlfriend?
Doubtful.
Tristan Malone didn’t steadily date. Not long-term. And never the same girl.
He was a manwhore.
By midnight, I gave up, set the book aside, and slept. The first night in a new place was always difficult for me. I was a creature who thrived on routine and familiarity. The bed, although plenty comfortable enough, was different. The sounds outside the house, the softness of the bed, and the darkness that blanketed the room were all foreign. It would take some getting used to.
It took longer than usual for me to fall into that state of deep sleep, but when I did, I wished I’d never closed my eyes.
Flashes of blood colored the water a deep red. God. So much fucking blood. Screams echoed into the stars—screams that I knew were mine. I recognized the rising panic. The rapid heartbeat threatened to jump out of my chest. A pit inside of my gut the size of a bowling ball, so damn heavy it weighed me down. I dropped onto the concrete, my knees hitting the ground, but I did not feel the pain. The world spun. And spun. Wildly churning out of control. I had nothing to grab on to, nothing to keep me from falling into that dark hole swirling in front of me.
Caught back at that night, a part of me knew all I had to do was wake up to stop reliving that horror again and again. Yet, I couldn’t seem to be able to pull my mind out of that unconscious state that held me prisoner. I slammed my mental fists against the invisible barrier, but I couldn’t break through. I wasn’t strong enough.
Not yet. Would I ever be?
A whisper trembled from my lips as I sank, further and further. The slim light from the moon faded away, and no matter how hard I reached out to hold on to that light, the darkness engulfed me, snuffing out the last of the soft glow.
I was alone.
Cold.
Shivering.
Heartbroken.
Desperate.
Broken.
The list went on and on, strangling me like I had an imperceptible noose tied around my neck. No! I screamed. No. Not like this. No... No... No... The cries wobbled from my lips, growing weaker and weaker as the rope tightened. Tightened. Tightened...
And then...someone whispered my name. Everly. Everly. They shook my shoulders. But I was in shock, and the darkness refused to release its hold. I swore it laughed in my ears, a menacing, cruel laugh that seemed to say I got you now, and I’m not letting you go.
Strong arms wrapped around me. Familiar. Warm. And stronger than the darkness. They yanked me out of the nightmare, the darkness shrilling in protest like a tormented soul.
Who had saved me? Preston? But no. The embrace wasn’t Preston’s. I’d been held by him too many times to mistake the way he felt; his scent and even the tempo of his beating heart was off—different.
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who gathered me into their arms.
Tristan.
And I didn’t care. I clung to him, holding on tight as if he were my lifeline.