39. Edwards Son
CHAPTER 39
EDWARD'S SON
Tristan
“Say it again.” I shut our bedroom door behind me and wrap my arms around Paloma’s body, kissing her neck.
“What?” She laughs, a sound that heals my body in a way that all the doctors, medications, and PT from the last three months couldn’t.
My soul split in half the moment she was taken from me.
“My name.” I brush my lips over the sensitive spot behind her ear. “You called me Tristan earlier.”
“Tristan.” She nods. “I can’t get used to it.”
“To the world, I’ll always be Archer. But now you know who I really am.” I let her shift in my arms so she’s facing me. “Archer is my mother’s maiden name. When we left here twenty years ago, Mom thought it would be best if we left the Sallows name behind.”
“I am so sorry.” She cups my cheek as her eyes well with tears. “My father did a terrible thing to you and your family. He doesn’t even regret it.”
“Shh.” I kiss her forehead. “That’s not on you. What the Senator has done to stay in office, to keep all the power he has, has nothing to do with you. You’re innocent in all this.”
“And now he knows who you really are. I told him.” Her lips turn into a frown that cuts me deep.
“Don’t worry about that.” I cradle her neck. “I will deal with him.”
I pick her up and walk her to the en-suite bathroom. We both need a shower after our hike through the woods, but more than anything, I need to satisfy my urgent need to inspect every inch of her body. I need to make sure she’s okay, that her father didn’t hurt her.
She doesn’t complain when I set her down in the shower stall and run the warm water. Instead, she slips her hands under my T-shirt and pulls it over my head. I help her out of her dress, while toeing off my shoes. The room fills with steam as the burning desire to be in each other’s arms lingers between us.
Our mouths collide in a frenzy. Her bare skin against mine feels like coming home. I deepen the kiss, pressing her against the tiled wall before I enter her. For a moment, time stops. Droplets of water drip slowly from her nose as her eyes flutter closed. This ecstasy of being inside her is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I hold her tight while my cock adjusts to her walls and the delirious feeling of her cunt sucking me in.
“Jesus.” I kiss her lips.
“God, I missed you. You have no idea how much.” She runs her hands over my shoulders.
“Show me.” I let her take over.
Blushing, she flashes me a sexy smile and slides down my body until she’s on her knees. I let out a moan, bracing both hands on the cold tile. I don’t miss how while she’s sucking me off, she’s also exploring my new scars. She can never know the hell I went through to get back to us. Being apart was its own fucking hell. But we’re here now. The rest doesn’t matter. I plan on spending the rest of my life making up for the three months we were apart—when she thought I was dead.
I let her take me to the very edge of my climax before I bring her to her feet and cage her against the wall again. Hooking her leg over my arm, I swell into her with all the pent-up desire I feel. She surrenders her body to me. That alone pushes me past the precipice.
As it always happens, my orgasm burns through me like wildfire. I ram into her as her slick walls cling to my cock. I’m so fucking addicted to her. I continue to fuck her until every last bit of pleasure has been spent, and I can’t feel my cock anymore.
“Tristan,” she whispers as she kisses my neck and chest. “Tristan.”
Her melodic voice fills up all the empty spaces in my chest, and it gives me the fuel I need to do what I have to do next. I don’t care how Paloma and I got started. I don’t care that her father killed mine. All I want is to keep her forever. And for that, the Senator must die. And it has to be tonight.
When she recovers from her high, she picks up the washcloth and moves behind me to scrub my back. “Tell me what happened. After you left the Hamptons.”
“I almost bled to death.” I glance up, keeping my muscles relaxed.
“And then. How did you survive?” she asks, gently running the washcloth over my scars.
“Gardenia and Jacob took me to a private clinic. I stayed there under an alias until I came out of my coma. After that, I moved to an apartment in the city where I did physical therapy.” I pause as she runs her hands over my hip.
“Why PT?” She kisses my back.
“When I woke up, I couldn’t walk.” I scoff. “Fuck, I was pissed. And then, Fisher decides to tell me that not only am I officially dead to the world again, but my wife is also living with my father’s killer.”
“I had no choice, Tristan. You have to believe me.” Her voice quavers. “I tried to escape. But he threatened to kill you. And after you were dead, I didn’t care what happened to me. In a way, like you, I was in a coma too.”
“I know that.” I turn around and wrap my arms around her. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself for underestimating him. I thought I was playing it smart.”
“I ruined your plans. Your revenge.” She glances up at me.
She is, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. “I planned for everything, except you.” I kiss her nose. “But no, you didn’t ruin my plans. You gave me a reason to live. Before you, I was barely alive, consumed by rage and my own thirst for revenge. I want to put all of that behind us and start anew.”
“A fresh start? With you?” She beams at me. “I want that too.”
We finish our shower, then head back to bed. At some point, we take a break from sex to eat dinner and make plans for the future. Paloma wants to move to the city and continue dancing—at least until we have children. I laugh when she brings up kids. In all my years I spent planning my return to the States, I never thought that a wife and children were for me. But lying here with her, I can’t imagine a sweeter dream.
Hours later, she falls asleep in my arms. I itch to run my fingers over her rosy cheeks, but I don’t want to risk waking her up. By now, her father must know she’s gone, and that I’m the one who took her from him. The Senator’s obsession for his own daughter is all kinds of fucked up. But he’ll have to understand she wants to be with me. She chose me.
Slowly, I slip out of bed and pull up the covers over Paloma’s sleeping form. I amble to the closet and don a pair of dark jeans and a T-Shirt. My meeting with the Senator can’t wait any longer.
Downstairs, Mom is in the living room. As soon as she sees me, she rises to her feet and joins me in the foyer. I have to assume she’s been waiting for me to make her case one last time. As much as it pains to see the worry in her eyes, I can’t go along with her this time. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of letting the Senator’s threat hang over our heads. He needs to be stopped.
“Don’t go, Tristan.” Her eyes fill up with tears. “We can return to London. We can be a family there as well as here. We’ve done it before.”
“He’s dangerous, Mom. If we want the slightest chance at having a happy life, a family, the Senator has to go. I have to make sure he never comes after us again.” I meet her gaze. “Don’t you see that?”
“I wish there was another way.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.”
“I’m going in with my eyes wide open this time. It ends tonight.” I hug her tight, then let her go. “I’ll be back soon.”
Out on the driveway, I find Fisher sitting behind the wheel of my car. I stop to consider my options. He and Jacob are the only ones I trust to take care of my family. Even though I already told Fisher I don’t need his help, I would be an idiot if I don’t recognize that I actually do need him. I can’t go after the Senator on my own. Even if the element of surprise is on my side again.
I climb in the passenger seat, and he turns to look at me. “There’s no way in fucking hell I’m letting you go in there with no backup.”
“I didn’t say anything.” I shrug. “Drive, old man.”
He grumps, then turns on the ignition. As the car tires crunch over the gravel, he stays focused on the road ahead. After five minutes, he finally speaks, “I can kill him for you.”
Fisher is a Marine. He will always be one. I’m sure he can kill a man with his pinky, as it were. But the Senator is my problem. This whole fucking mess is my fault. I brought us all here. I took Paloma from him. I woke the sleeping monster. I’m the one who has to put him down.
“I know.” I dip my head in a silent thank you. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“Which part?” He shakes his head.
“The part where you warned me that the only way to beat the Senator is to meet him where he is in the depths of hell.” I clench my jaw. “A painful death should’ve been the plan all along. Now, I don’t even have time for that.”
“I’ll take care of the bodyguards.” Fisher looks straight ahead. “I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”
“Thank you.” I pat his shoulder. “I appreciate you coming with me.”
“Don’t mention it. You’re like a son to me. You know that.” He looks at me for a beat. “Plus, your mother begged me to come.”
“I figured as much.” I chuckle.
The gates to the Senator’s mansion come into view. Two men stand guard, but Fisher doesn’t let off the gas. He hits both of them with the car like pins in a bowling alley. He pulls up to the keypad and enters the code to open the gates, while I reach under the seat and pull out the gun, I wished I’d never have to use. I check the cartridge and barrel, then screw on the silencer. Fisher nods at me, then places his hand over the weapon on his lap. He’s calm as can be. And that’s my reminder to check myself. This isn’t the time for making mistakes.
We pull up to the front door. The other two bodyguards don’t react when they see us. I can only assume they think that if we made it past their comrades it’s because we are supposed to be here. Fisher has been training me for years. I always assumed he missed the Corps. But sitting here next to him ready to battle, I now understand why. He knew this moment would come. He knew one way or another, the Senator and I would settle our debt.
As soon as the car rolls to a stop, we both hop out shooting. I aim for their necks simply because I’m not ready to take a life. But these fuckers are the only thing standing between me and freedom.
“There should be two more.” I meet Fisher’s gaze. “They’re out back.”
“I got it.” He taps my shoulder. When I make to leave, he calls out, “Tristan.”
“Yeah?”
“Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.” His favorite Marine motto. And his way of telling me not to rush into it.
“I remember.” I duck inside and shut the door behind me.
The foyer is eerily quiet as I pad my way toward the Senator’s study. His angry voice breaks the silence around me.
“Jesus fuck. She’s been gone for hours. She could be anywhere by now. How can a small girl with no resources disappear like that?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Find her. Or you will have to deal with him. The Guardian is tired of waiting.” He slams his phone on the desk. It skips and lands on the floor.
The Guardian?
I grip my gun, pointing it downward as I step into his line of sight. The moment he sees me, he blanches. He has no way to call for help. This is it for him. The end of the line.
“Don’t bother looking for her. She’s safe with me.” I take in a breath.
“Edward’s son.” He sits back, looking tired. “So, you didn’t die in the fire after all. Neat trick.” He points at the papers in front of him. He’d been reviewing my files. Probably trying to confirm what Paloma told him—that Tristan Sallows is alive.
It was Fisher’s idea to plant two bodies in the wreckage. He had a Marine buddy who worked at the morgue and owed him a favor. Yeah, faking our deaths was a neat trick that bought us time, twenty years of it.
“What happens now? Hmm?” He meets my gaze. “Are you here to kill me?” He smirks, pointing a lazy finger at my gun. “You’re not a murderer. So much like your father. Like him, you don’t have the guts to do what needs to be done. That was always his problem. It’s what got him killed. I tried to save him. But he was too stubborn and too proud.”
“Save him?” I squinted at him. “You started the fire that killed him.”
“That was meant to be a warning. But Edward.” He scoffs. “Saint Edward had to do the right thing. He could’ve saved himself and his family. And he chose not to. Think about that. Your father sacrificed his own son just to play the hero.” Disgust fills his eyes.
“You didn’t have to kill him. You’re a coward. You killed your friend to save your neck. And then, you did it again. Selling your daughter to the highest bidder to save your ass once more.” I glare at him. “I should’ve killed you months ago.” I pull the trigger as I realize that Paloma was right. Her father is incapable of feeling remorse. Even now, he’s trying to sell me on the idea that he tried to help Dad—not a hint of regret.
His hands fly to his throat where blood is pooling fast. He gasps for air, while his eyes stare at me in surprise. He really didn’t think I had it in me.
“In a few minutes, your lungs will fill with blood, and you’ll asphyxiate—you’ll die alone.” I take in a breath.
“Tristan.” Mom’s voice fills the room.
When I turn to face her, I freeze. “Hunter. Let her go,” I blurt out.
“Put the gun down.” Hunter twists Mom’s arm higher up behind her. “Slide it over to me.”
I hesitate, but I do as he asks, gently setting the weapon on the hardwood floor and kicking it over to him. “You can walk away from this. Just let her go. This is between you and me.”
His gaze cuts over to the Senator. Red creeps up his neck and cheeks. “Call 911. Get him help.” He bends down and grabs the gun. “Do it now. If he dies, she dies.” He digs the barrel of my gun into Mom’s side.
Clenching my jaw, I fish my phone from the back pocket of my jeans and dial the number.
“Put it on speaker phone.” He labors to catch his breath. “And tell them Senator Davis has been shot.”
I do as he asks because even if the paramedics get here fast, the Senator doesn’t have much time left. When the operator answers, I explain the situation to her and how the Senator appears to be injured. I don’t incriminate myself, though I’m ready to answer for the life I took. The operator begins to ask me to stay on the line, but I end the call before she can finish.
“There. Now it’s your turn.” I glare at Hunter.
“I know you have Paloma. You kidnapped her right from her bedroom. Bring her back, or your mother dies.” The crazed look in his eyes tell me he means every word. “I know she’s your mom. She admitted it.”
“Tristan, I’m sorry.” Mom’s voice quavers as tears brim her eyes. “I thought I was helping you. He said you were in trouble. He came to the house, saying you sent him. I didn’t know who he was.”
“Mom. Don’t worry about that.” I put up my hands to show her everything is going to be alright. “Hunter, you can still walk away. Let her go, and I won’t press charges against you for attempted murder.”
“You should’ve stayed dead.” His eyes turn red with unshed tears. He squeezes them tight then wipes them off. “I’m not leaving here without Paloma. She belongs to me. He promised.” He points the gun to the dying Senator then back to Mom. “Bring her to me.”
“The police will be here any minute.” I step toward him. “Leave now.”
“Stop stalling.” Hunter points the gun at me.
When he does, Mom loses it. “Leave my son alone. For the love of God, please don’t hurt him. I can take you to Paloma. She’s staying with us.”
“Mom.” I reach for her.
In that moment, my whole world stops. One minute, I have her hand in mine, the next she’s falling to the floor. Her eyes go big in shock as her body contorts awkwardly. Then, there’s blood everywhere. I catch her before she hits the marble tile and slowly ease her down so she’s lying on my lap.
Somewhere to my right, Fisher is talking but I can’t make out his words. When I glance up, he has Hunter by the neck. Hunter still has a tight grip on my gun, but he’s now pointing it at himself. The loud bang echoes in my ears. In the next beat, Hunter collapses at Fisher’s feet. He’s unconscious, possibly dead.
“Tristan?” Mom squeezes her eyes shut.
“Don’t move. Help is coming. You’re going to be okay.” I put pressure on her side. The asshole shot her in the back the same way he did with me.
“It’s over Freya. Tristan is safe.” Fisher kneels next to her and takes her hand in his. “I should’ve listened to you and killed this asshole years ago.”
“Mom. I never should’ve come here. This is my fault.” I hug her to me.
“I’m glad you did. Because now you’re safe. That’s all I ever wanted for you, Tristan.” She smiles at me, pressing her forehead to my cheek. “My beautiful boy.”
I’m ten again. Mom is holding me in her arms while trying to walk on her broken leg. I want to tell her that I’m not hurt, but the tears give me away. The burn on my back stings, and I have a vague sense that I can possibly die from the pain alone. Mom weeps along with me because there’s something that hurts even more. We left Dad behind to die alone.
I never thought I would feel that level of pain again—the kind that rips your heart in two and leaves you bleeding. We’re back to square one. I can’t stand the idea that Mom might die this time around. And it’s all my fault. I brought all of us here to face the monster under the bed.
The monster won.
While Mom lies in my arms, gasping for air, the Senator is getting medical help.
The room is chaos when I finally come back to reality. Next to me, a paramedic is talking to me, but I can’t make out the words until Fisher steps in and takes Mom from me. “There’s nothing you can do for her now. Let the paramedics do their job.”
I nod, stepping back, looking at the fucking mess I caused. “This is all my fault. I brought her here.” I shake my head.
“Don’t do that. We all had a say in this.” Fisher grips my shoulder. “She’ll pull through. She’s the strongest woman I know.”
“She has to.” I brace my hands on my knees and heave.
She has to live. Because if she doesn’t, I don’t know how I’ll move on. How can I go on carrying this guilt? Knowing Mom is dead because of me? Because I couldn’t fucking let it go.