Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Tristian
Standing by the door of my apartment, I leaned against the frame and let a slow smile tug at my lips.
The frantic pitter-patter of Ingrid’s heels echoed through the hallway—the sound of her desperation to be perfect for me.
It had been a few days since I said I’d take her on a proper date, and she’d been vibrating with nervous energy ever since.
She was soft, she was giddy, and she was currently driving me half-mad with anticipation.
“Dollbaby, we’re gonna miss our reservation, you know!” I shouted.
I could hear her pace quicken, a flurry of movement behind the bathroom door that made me chuckle.
“Coming!” she called back, breathless.
When she finally emerged, the air left my lungs.
She stepped out in a fitted black dress that hugged every curve I’d spent hours imagining.
Dainty jewelry caught the light at her throat, and she clutched a little white purse like a shield.
Her hair, usually loose curls and waves, was now straight down her back.
She bit her lip, her eyes darting to mine, then down over herself.
“Do I look okay? I don’t normally dress like this, so this is a little bit out of my comfort zone…”
I moved toward her slowly, my shadow swallowing her small frame. It was almost insulting that she didn’t realize how good she looked—innocently sexy, obliviously seductive in a way that made my pants tighten. Her makeup was subtle, highlighting the features I was becoming obsessed with.
“Doll…” I said softly. She looked up, searching my face for a verdict. “Words cannot express how beautiful you look.”
“Are you sure? I-it’s just that—”
I didn’t let her finish. I placed my hand under her chin, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw, forcing her gaze to lock with mine. “You look beautiful, Ingrid.”
A blush rose to her cheeks as I leaned down and captured her plump lips with mine, a low growl threatening to break through my chest. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, her body heat seeping through my shirt.
I had to be the one to break it, though it cost me every ounce of my restraint.
She let out a shaky breath. “Do that again.”
I smirked. “Ingrid, baby, we have a reservation to get to… If we carry on, we may never make it to the restaurant.”
She nodded, a dazed smile on her face, but I could tell she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.
The evening was a blur of her voice and my undivided attention.
She talked about her passions, the real things she cared about rather than those foisted upon her like the music lessons her parents forced her into.
She talked about tending flowers in her garden, the way the air was turning crisp with the season.
She told me her favorite shows, and the intricate plot of the new book she was reading.
And she talked drawing: how she was progressing through the sketchpad, watching videos to help her learn form, how her clumsy start was beginning to refine with each attempt.
Some men would have found this mundane; I found it intoxicating. I wanted every thought that crossed her mind. I wanted to build a world where she felt safe enough to never stop talking.
“Hi, my name is Tina, and I will be your server for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?” the waitress asked, breaking our bubble.
“A glass of water will be fine for now. Ingrid?”
“I’ll have the same,” she said, her voice small but steady.
Once the waitress vanished, Ingrid leaned in, her eyes bright. “Do you like apple picking?”
“I’ve never been, doll.”
“Can that be our next date? A-and I can get us matching sweaters, too?”
I reached across the table, taking her hand and pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Dollbaby? We’re still on our first date.”
She blushed a deep, delicious crimson. “I know… sorry. I was just a bit excited.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves… although, matching sweaters? Can we at least have matching scarves, too?”
The laugh that burst out of her was worth the teasing.
But as the night went on, I saw the cracks in her composure. She was fidgeting, her eyes darting around the room. Nervousness. She wanted this to be perfect, and the pressure was getting to her.
I stood, ignoring her confused expression, and pulled a chair right next to mine. “Sit here.”
She didn’t hesitate. She slid into the seat beside me, immediately wrapping her hand around my bicep and leaning her head against my shoulder. The tension bled out of her instantly. That was how we spent the rest of the meal—joined at the hip.
She was a sheltered creature, growing bolder in the safety of my shadow. I felt a surge of grim satisfaction knowing I was the only one she trusted this way.
As we finished, she looked up at me. Her soft voice cut through the noise of the room. “Tristian?”
“Doll.”
“When are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?”
I paused. Not the question I was expecting on our first date…
Although—I looked at her, this soft, honest woman as she stared up at me, walls lowered each day, trust opening even more—there was a lot about her I didn’t expect.
I didn’t expect for her to get under my skin the way she had done, or for me to want to protect her with everything in me.
But just because I wasn’t expecting the question sure as hell didn’t mean I didn’t have an answer.
“When you’re sure that’s what you want,” I said finally.
She responded instantly, eyes bright with excitement: “I’m sure now.”
I could’ve chuckled at her adorable eagerness, the sheer honesty of it. The nervousness of thinking I wasn’t going to ask her, that she wasn’t mine yet. Little did she know, she already was. “Ingrid… Will you be my girlfriend?”
She didn’t answer with words; she threw her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. Her scent engulfed me as my hands ran down her curvy, sexy little body hidden behind this dress… the dress I wanted to peel from her skin to show her just how much she was mine.
“Guess I’ll take that as a yes…”
The warmth of the evening vanished the moment we stepped toward the restaurant’s heavy glass exit.
Standing by the curb, flanked by two mountains of muscle in cheap suits, was Darragh.
He was leaning against a black SUV, picking at a fingernail, looking every bit the snake he was.
Jacket open, shirt tucked into his pants, deliberately presenting the view of that fucking belt to us as we exited, inviting the instant flashbacks of the sting of its buckle.
I felt Ingrid stiffen beside me, her hand tightening on my arm. I shifted, stepping slightly in front of her, my internal alarm screaming.
“Hello, sweetness…” Darragh said, his eyes sliding over Ingrid with a revolting, slick appreciation. “My, my… look who’s out on the town.”
“Darragh,” I said, my voice coming out as a low, dangerous warning.
He didn’t look at me. He stepped closer, his goons shifting in sync.
He leaned down slightly, trying to catch Ingrid’s eye.
“I do hope Tristian’s been taking good care of you.
You looked awfully cozy together during your meal.
And so in love! Isn’t that precious? Couldn’t keep your eyes off each other.
It brought a tear to my eye, it really did, eh, boys? ”
He reached out, his hand hovering near Ingrid’s shoulder. I stepped into his space, my chest nearly brushing his, forcing him to look at me. My blood was beginning to simmer.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” I hissed.
Darragh chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. He backed off an inch but the smirk stayed. “No need to be so hostile.”
Then he stopped smiling.
“The clock is ticking. Fight’s Friday, lad.” His thumbs hooked into his belt loops, fingers finding the buckle. “You’re fighting for me. Under my terms, my conditions.” His fingers tapped the pattern of the dragon. The forefingers of each hand clinked against that polished silver buckle.
In spite of the rage running through me, I felt myself stiffen. The scars on my back stung, the phantom stings crawling on my skin. Maybe it was real or maybe it was only in my mind. I imagined blood trickling from the welts, marring the tattoos I’d hidden them within.
“I should fucking destroy you,” I muttered, low.
Darragh smirked. “But you won’t. Better men than you have tried, son.”
He looked back at Ingrid, his smile turning predatory. “It’d be a shame if I had to come find your little girlfriend to get your attention, wouldn’t it? She’s a lot more fragile than you are.”
I wanted to tear his throat out right there on the sidewalk, but I felt Ingrid trembling against my side. I couldn’t turn this into a bloodbath in front of her. So I held in my anger, a satisfied smile gracing the bastard’s lips as he watched me stand down.
“Atta boy. See you in the ring, Tristian. Don’t be late.” He gave a mock salute, signaled to his dogs, and disappeared into the back of the SUV.
As they peeled away, the street went quiet. I was shaking with a mixture of rage and helplessness. The walls were closing in, and it was finally clear just how I’d dragged Ingrid inside them with me.
“Tristian?” Her voice was tiny, laced with fear.
I took a deep breath, forcing my features to soften as I turned to her. I tucked a stray hair behind her ear, my hand still slightly unsteady.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I led her to my car and didn’t say another word, my mind already spinning with how I was going to handle the man who now knew the one thing he could use against me.