14. Tristan
TRISTAN
I ’m going to snap any second. This stupid motherfucker named Josh won’t take the hint even as I wave off the green and pink drink he’s pushing at me.
He’s told me his name six times in the hour since we’ve been at the Black Crown Resort.
He’s tried to make small talk about how we’re related twice as many times.
We’re fucking not related, his foster mother is just marrying my father.
I’m going to bash his face in with my beer bottle and then slit his throat with the broken glass if he calls Winter ‘sister from another mister’ one more time.
She’s been a good sport about it, smiling a fake smile…
and I would know. I know her real smile, and the only thing that’s keeping this guy alive right now is that I’m confident that he’ll never see her genuine smile.
I’m already on edge because of some things I pieced together about my father.
Elijah Moretti sent Sebastian and me a photo of my father that he got his hands on, and I don’t even need an explanation.
My father is dead to me. No matter what I uncover, he’s dead.
The photo was of him and someone who looks an awful lot like the man I’ve been trying to hunt down.
Gotta love having a friend with mafia connections.
By the looks of the photo, they weren’t hiding out in some secretive location.
No, they were right here in this bar wearing fancy designer suits and smoking cigars together.
I’m not sure I really care about the why, or even the how, I just care about one thing.
Avenging Winter and taking out anyone who had a hand in anything that has ever hurt her.
“Get that shit out of my face,” I practically bark the words, but he’s just grinning like an idiot, accepting a tray loaded with colorful cocktails and spritzers from our server. I guess I died, went to hell and woke up at some sorority mixer instead of the Black Crown Resort’s prestigious bar.
“Geez, hard liquor only for the big bad goalie. I got ya.” Josh laughs under his breath, like we’re already friends.
Like he doesn’t see exactly how close I am to putting him through this polished black and white marble bar top.
I run my fingers along the cool surface.
I’d be willing to bet a lot of money that his skull is softer than this.
Another source of my agitation is that Josh’s perky foster sister, Bianca, practically climbed Winter like a tree as soon as we walked in.
Either she’s starved for friends, or her mother told her to keep Winter occupied.
I trust no one here except my girl, but it’s probably better she’s on the other side of the bar.
I don’t want her in the middle of things when I confront my father, but I wasn’t comfortable having her stay back at Castlebrook without me to protect her.
I feel like I’m suffocating on the space between Winter and myself right now.
She was stuck to my back like fucking glue on the whole ride up here, and now I’m going through withdrawals.
I know Winter is careful about how affectionate she is toward me when my father is around, and I don’t blame her.
He yanks me up for it, like he actually gives a shit.
He doesn't. He just doesn’t want the whispers going around of any sort of impropriety because in the eyes of his elite circle, Winter is my sister.
She doesn’t like it when he gets on my case, but I don’t give a shit.
It’s not wrong what I feel for her. Even the other day in the locker room, calling her ‘baby’ just rolled off my tongue, and it felt like I’d been holding it in for so long.
I take a pull of my beer and quietly watch my father mingling with three men I don’t recognize, leaving his bride to be sitting by herself.
I roll my eyes as Bianca squeals at something Winter says quietly.
Winter’s eyes meet mine, and I must be making a hell of a face because she giggles softly, and that sound alone is enough to make my cock stir.
“You have a pretty laugh,” Josh with his fucking golden retriever looking ass says like he isn’t about to have my boot shoved down his throat.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye, cataloguing his every move.
His presence grates on me more than it should because he’s not a real threat.
I’m convinced that as small as Winter is, she could bring him to his knees easily.
But he’s too comfortable with her, like he thinks he knows anything about her and I don’t fucking like that shit.
Doesn’t matter. None of this matters.
What matters is why I’m here at all.
The last place I want to be is sitting in this bar keeping up these false pretenses.
I have no interest in meeting Dad’s fiancee or her annoying children.
My father invited us here under the guise of “family,” but I’m not stupid.
There’s always an angle with him. Always a motive buried under handshakes on shitty business deals.
Josh slides up and leans on the arm of Winter’s chair like he’s known her his entire life.
He pops open his suit jacket, and I’m pushing up from my chair ready to rip it off of him and strangle him with it, but Winter gives me a look telling me she’s fine.
She’s constantly worried about me, and she’s playing it cool so I won’t lose my shit.
This asshole is rummaging in the inside pocket until he pulls out a crinkling handful of mini-sized candy bars.
“Want some?” he asks, holding one up like it’s some grand offering.
“I always have something sweet for someone sweet.” His grin is wide, almost boyish, then it falters when he glances up and makes eye contact with me.
He immediately drops his gaze because he knows I’m about to rip into him.
I’ve told him multiple times to get the fuck away from her.
“Get the fuck away from her with that,” I bark, louder this time, my voice cracking through the low hum of the bar.
His head jerks up, startled, and he flinches back like a spooked animal.
Good. He probably carries around roofie candy bars because that’s the only fucking way a girl is going to let him touch her.
Josh stammers, shoving the candy back into his jacket in a rush. My fists curl against the counter, my body already halfway out of the chair before I force myself back down. My knuckles itch to use his face as my own personal punching bag, but I don’t move.
Because I don’t need to throw a punch. Not yet…and that’s growth. Winter would absolutely tell me that this is a step in the right direction. But I’m pretty sure I’m still going to kill him before we head back home.
“Honey, you need to come over here and speak to your son,” Josh’s mom calls for my dad, her voice all high-pitched and wobbly like she’s scared of me. I think her name is Emily, but I can’t be bothered to care enough to confirm that.
Dad heads out of his conversation way faster than I anticipated, and I wonder then why she’s important to him.
Does he need her for something, or does she have something on him?
My father tips me over the edge when he kisses the top of this random woman’s head and then her temple before he says loud enough for me to hear, “He’s protective of his sister because of?—”
“Do not call her that.” My voice sounds furious even to my own ears. “I fucking told you…do not ever call Winter my sister.”
My father blinks, taken aback, and in the silence I realize that I cut him off from saying something that would have sent me into more of a rage
“What were you going to say just now? Because of what, Dad?” I press. My smile must be absolutely twisted, humorless.
“Tristan,” Winter says, and I look at her for a moment before my eyes narrow back on my father.
“Are you gonna tell this woman about Mom? About how you didn’t even check to see if she was breathing when you finally dragged yourself up out of the dirt?
” I hope he can hear the level of disgust I have for him.
He didn’t protect the one person he should have protected with his own life.
I wasn’t close to my mother, if I’m honest. I wasn’t close to anyone or anything until Winter came into my life, but that doesn’t change anything I’m saying.
She was his wife, and there was absolutely no panic in that man when he got up and saw her with blood pooled around her.
Winter starts to rise, like she’s going to step in, and calm me down. But my father shakes his head at her, dismissing her like she doesn’t matter.
My jaw ticks. Big mistake. “And while you’re at it, don’t ever dismiss Winter for any reason. If she wants to stand on this table and break every glass in the room, that’s none of your concern. She does as she pleases.”
Across from me, Winter stills, her lips parting the faintest bit. She doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe for a second, like my words hit as deeply as I feel them. Then, slowly, her hand drifts across the countertop, her fingertips brushing against mine.
The heat in my chest is burning hotter.
“Watch your mouth, son. You're being emotional…” Dad says, but I cut him off, because no, I’m not.
“I would’ve killed Winter myself before I let those bastards touch her.
” The words come out before I can stop them.
And I mean every fucking one of them. I want everyone here, including this bitch who’s rubbing my father’s bicep like it’s her job to console him, to know just how unhinged I am.
Whatever they’re up to, whatever they have planned, they need to know that I will ruin all of it.
“Enough!” Dad bellows, his voice booming through the bar. Bianca flinches. Josh shifts uncomfortably. But me and Winter, we don’t move a muscle. We’ve been through far too much for this clown to think he’s going to throw his weight around.
I don’t say anything because I’m assessing him. I need to be able to read him before he springs something on me. Why did he want us here so much? He knew how it would play out.
“This is supposed to be a fresh start,” my father finally says, face red, voice straining with forced control.
“We will not be living in the past anymore, Tristan. You need to fix your attitude and be grateful that Emily was selfless enough to change our engagement announcement into a vacation where everyone can get to know each other.”
I stare at him, every word curdling in my gut. Fresh start? He says it like the past is something you can bury under champagne and cigars.
The longer I watch him squirm, the more certain I am: he wasn’t just a coward that night. He’s hiding something. Maybe a debt. Maybe a deal gone wrong. Maybe something worse.
Was Winter the target all along? Did we just get lucky that I was able to botch the plan enough to stop them from taking her?
My jaw clenches, and when I finally glance sideways, Winter’s already watching me. Her bright eyes narrow slightly, the tiniest furrow between her brows like she can feel it too. She knows that I’m turning something over in my head, putting pieces together.
She doesn’t ask, not here, not now. But she knows I’ll rip this place and my father’s whole fucking life wide open until I find the truth.
This new happy little family he’s concocted? Collateral damage, I suppose.
Dad knows every detail of what happened that night. He knows I’m onto him. He knows that despite his orders I’ve been asking around, looking for anyone who would give me a glimmer of who could have been behind that night and why.
“Tristan, dear, I think you would do well to relax…” Emily starts, her syrupy voice grating against my already raw nerves.
One look from me shuts her up cold. I don’t say a word, just let my stare slice across the bar until her mouth closes.
I push back from the chair, standing as Dad finally lowers himself into his.
The bar feels suffocating, and as much as I want to pull Winter into my arms right now, I don’t want my bad energy rubbing off on her.
I need to clear my head, because I’m not going to get to the bottom of this shit staying worked up like this.
I meet Winter’s eyes and tilt my head toward the balcony to let her know I’m getting some fresh air.
She nods, and that’s all I need to head out.
I walk past the gleam of glass and polished brass, out onto the stone terrace.
The air hits cooler here, and it's a sobering feeling.
The muscles across my back coil tight, the tension pulling me forward until I’m standing at the edge of the terrace, looking out over the mountain.
I bend and pick up a smooth gray stone from the decorative landscaping, turn it over in my hand, then send it arcing into the water feature below.
The ripple spreads wide, distorting the lights.
When I turn to look back into the bar, Winter’s eyes flash to mine through the pane of glass, and I know that I’m not getting any sleep tonight.
When we arrived, Dad showed us to our rooms. I thought it was bad enough that I couldn’t use this opportunity to share a bed with Winter again, but it got so much worse when I realized Dad had me bunking with Josh and the girls sharing a room.
His reasoning was that he wanted us to get to know each other.
I’m probably going to put a pillow over Josh’s face tonight, but that’ll be a lesson learned for my father.
No one would ever try to keep me from my girl.