Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
TRISTAN
I’m forcing down chunks of sweet and sour chicken, but I have no appetite. Someone followed Daphne out of her therapy appointment and tried to follow her into Tuck’s car.
I got a good look at the fucker—and he’s next on my hitlist.
Daphne’s calmed down, and that’s what matters. She’s safe and scarfing down egg foo young like she hasn’t eaten in days.
“So, you don’t know this guy?” Tuck asks as he slurps his beef lo mein.
Daphne’s messy bun whips around the back of her head. “No, I haven’t seen him before. Just in the elevator, then he was following me.”
“Shouldn’t you go to the cops?” Tuck asks.
I shake my head at him. “We could, but they won’t do anything.
When someone shot at her last week, we were in D.C.
Since this happened in Baltimore, they’ll say it was unrelated and won’t take it seriously.
” I know it’s the same guy. My gut is sure of it.
I should have backed up over the prick when I had the chance, but the thought hadn’t occurred to me.
All I could focus on was getting Daphne far away from that asshole.
I wasn’t thinking straight. I hope my stupidity won’t come back to bite me in the ass.
“What about the Secret Service?” he asks.
Daphne doesn’t hold back a sarcastic laugh.
“Please, my parents want something like this to happen. Do you know how much sympathy Dad would get if another dead daughter turned up before the election? It would be even better for him if I were found dead in a dumpster before voters start sending in mail-in ballots.”
My stomach rolls at the thought, but she’s right, I’ve seen it myself. God, how could a parent put their career over the life of their own child?
Tuck shrugs. “Well, if you need any help, let me know.”
“Thanks,” I murmur. Tuck’s helped me my entire life. He secured the EpiPen I doctored for Congressman McArthur. I told him step-by-step what my plan was, and he helped me perfect it, ensuring the peanut oil was diluted enough to extract through a needle.
“My offer was for Daphne,” Tuck says with a smirk. “You can get fucked.”
“Nice language for a pediatrician,” I murmur as I glance around the busy cafeteria of the children’s hospital.
“Pediatric emergency physician,” he corrects me.
“Either way, your patients’ ages match your IQ.”
Daphne giggles, drawing my attention back to her. I take her hand in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. It’s still clammy, but Tuck said she’d be in shock for an hour or so. It takes a while for the adrenal glands to settle after a major, prolonged event.
When she went to use the bathroom, Tuck warned me that she’d probably have nightmares. That cemented it all for me. Whoever that weird-hoodie-wearing asshole is, he’s as good as dead.
“You two are so different,” Daphne points out.
“Everyone says that,” Tuck says with a small smile. “Apparently, I stole his brain cells in the womb.”
“And I got the good looks.”
“We’re identical, you dumbass.”
Nearly identical. While my eyes are two different colors, Tucker’s baby blues match Tessa’s and Mom’s. And Tuck’s got a dimple in his cheek that everyone wanted to pinch growing up.
“You shouldn’t swear around a lady.” I smack my brother upside the head.
“Hey, respect your elders.”
“By four fucking minutes.”
“You shouldn’t swear around a lady,” Tuck mocks.
Bastard.
“Code blue, room five. Code blue, room five.” A woman’s voice comes over the loudspeaker.
Without a word, Tuck launches himself out of his chair and runs, his white coat billowing out behind him like a cape. I give him shit, but my brother’s a superhero in my eyes.
“What was that?” Daphne asks.
“Some kind of emergency. We won’t see him again. He’s coming to dinner on Sunday with Tessa, though.”
“Why were you visiting him at the hospital?” Daphne asks.
My food circles in my gut. “I wanted to be nearby. You know, in case you needed me after your session.”
Daphne rewards me with a smile, and it seems my stalking tendencies sometimes pay off. She rests her hand on top of mine and gives it a squeeze. “Thank you.” Her blue eyes sparkle up at me.
Tuck might have the brains, but I’m the lucky twin.
“I’ll be there on Saturday,” Daphne says with a starchy politeness in her voice. “Email me the speech, and I’ll practice.” Daphne ends the call and tosses herself onto the couch in a frustrated ,“Hmph.”
“Tough day at the office, Princess?” I step behind the couch and massage my fingers into the curve below her neck where her shoulder dips. It’s tempting to move them lower, down onto her breasts, and play with them until she’s fully relaxed. But no, I’m a good boy. I’ll behave.
Mainly because Tessa and Tuck will be here any minute. I’d appreciate a quickie, but Tessa has an annoying habit of forgetting to knock.
“Remember the rally for Dad? The one I said I’d make a speech at, so they’ll leave me the hell alone? It’s this Saturday in Baltimore.”
Unease pricks at my stomach. After her near-miss with her stalker, I’m not thrilled at the idea of her going, but she’ll be surrounded by trained Secret Service members and thousands of people who not only support but borderline love her Dad, which is in its own kind of fucked up.
“Want me to come with you?”
She shakes her head. “They’re boring as hell.
Worse than State Dinners. There’s no open bar.
Besides, you’d be on your own in the crowd.
I’ll have to stand on stage and smile for a few hours, pretending to love my parents.
Honestly, you being there would be a distraction, and I need to focus and watch my face. ”
Thank fuck for that. Political rallies give me the biggest ick. Surrounding myself with weirdos wearing political t-shirts and hats like they’re in some kind of cult? Rallies are a circle of hell Dante couldn’t have dreamed up.
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Unease pricks at my stomach. Even with all the protection surrounding her at public events, I’m still not sure she’ll be safe.
I’ll pick her up from the rally or tail her Secret Service detail if I need to on her way home.
Daphne’s eyes flutter closed as she sinks into my touch. “I don’t want to think about it. God, that feels so good.” She ends on a moan, and my cock snaps to attention.
I have ten rooms in this house, so Tessa wouldn’t find us right away if I hoist Daphne over my shoulder and drag her upstairs like a caveman. I’d have my way with—
“Hello?” Tessa calls out.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I release Daphne. My sister’s voice makes my cock deflate quicker than jumping in an ice bath.
Daphne’s eyes flick open, a smile on her face as she stands and meets Tessa halfway towards the foyer. They hug like they’ve known each other for years.
Tessa’s always been a big-hearted person. She hid it away for a few years, but she’s opened up again. It warms my heart that she’s embracing Daphne as the sister she might be someday.
I know I’m going to marry Daphne Fox.
“What’s this? Not going to hug your big brother?” I open my arms for Tessa.
“She already did,” Tuck calls out as he balances a box of takeout containers in one hand and shuts the door behind him with the other.
I don’t mind Tuck’s takeout addiction, but as his twin, it worries me that he doesn’t know how to boil water or heat anything that comes in a can.
He tried once and put the closed metal can of chili in a pan and cranked the heat on high.
Yet, somehow, he’s the genius twin. At least I can fucking cook.
All Tuck knows how to do is order food—be it takeout or fancy restaurants, he’s good at that. He used to order for Tessa when we went to Pink Salmon since she’d get shy when talking to the servers. She’s always friendly, but she struggles to ask for anything.
I release Tessa and take the box from Tuck.
He swoops in to give my girlfriend a hug. “Good to see you again, Daph.”
“You too,” she says as she releases him. There’s a glint in her eyes, and damnit, for once I wish Tuck and I weren’t so fucking identical.
But she turns to me, and her smile widens. Must be because I’m the better-looking twin.
“You have a dog?” Tuck’s voice is loaded with surprise as he examines Hawkeye like our sweet border collie might morph into Cujo.
Tuck hasn’t had much experience with dogs since we didn’t have one growing up.
In fact, as far as I know, the only time he interacts with dogs is treating bites in the ER.
Hawkeye trots over to Tuck, then his head whips back to me, then back again. He lets out a bark of confusion before sniffing Tuck’s pant leg.
Tuck bends down to cautiously pet Hawkeye on the head in short, gentle strokes. The dog glances back at me like he’s silently asking if it’s okay for this weirdly identical stranger to pet him.
“Good boy,” Daphne coos as she crouches down, and Hawkeye bounds over and licks her cheek. From the deep plunge of her t-shirt, her cleavage presses together, and God, I want to run my tongue all over her again like I did in the shower this morning.
Not to self, next time we’re having shower sex, double check that the soap suds have washed away before licking her. Nothing’s worse than sucking on Daphne’s perfect breasts only to literally wash my mouth out with soap.
My cock likes the words “good boy” too much, and I lower the box to hide my creeping erection. He’s not put off by the memory of soap suds.
“So, what’d you get this time, Tuck?” Tessa asks as she shimmies out of her leather jacket and crouches down to scratch Hawkeye behind the ears.
“Pink Salmon.”
“Tessa was six and was going through a hairdresser phase,” Tuck starts while Tessa snickers.
“Oh, I know where this is going,” she says with a wink to Daphne.
Daphne hangs on my brother’s every word with yet another embarrassing Tristan-as-a-kid story. As much as I love my siblings, why couldn’t I have been an only child? I’d have no witnesses to my awkward years.