34. Tristan Has to Die Tonight
CHAPTER 34
TRISTAN HAS TO DIE TONIGHT
Gardenia
“Motherfucker.” I fist my hands, hiding behind the tire of a limo.
Seriously,a shot fired and no one is coming to check it out, or make sure no one is hurt. No, why would they? They’re too busy partying. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, these rich fuckers’ lack of empathy manages to surprise me yet again.
Poor Paloma.
I want to save her. God only knows what Hunter is going to do with her. After all she’s gone through in her life, she doesn’t deserve any more pain. If Tristan weren’t dying a few feet from me, I would try and help her. But if there’s even a one percent chance Tristan is still alive, I can’t risk it. I can’t confront Hunter and have him call security on me. He’s a fucking coward. I have no doubt he would call for help the minute he realizes the odds aren’t in his favor anymore.
We only have one shot at getting Tristan out of here.
So I do the prudent thing and watch Hunter take Paloma back into the house. Again, the Senator’s friends and security detail do absolutely nothing to stop him. They act as if Paloma walked inside of her own accord—and not unconscious over Hunter’s shoulder.
“I’m on my way.” Jacob’s voice in my ear takes my urge to shoot something down a few pegs.
A minute later, he pulls up next to Tristan’s sports Audi. I sneak another glance toward the Senator’s mansion to make sure both Paloma and Hunter are out sight. I have no doubt that once she’s inside, probably tied to a chair, he’ll come out and finish what he started.
I run to the white van to help Jacob. But when I get there, he already has Tristan lying in the back of the car, half dead. I have no words. I climb in and take his pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there. He’s still alive. Though looking at all the blood, I can’t be sure for how long.
“We need to put pressure on the wound.” Jacob drops into the driver seat and careens off. “Where the fuck are we taking him? Will the hospital call the cops if we show up with him? Does it matter? Should we be calling the cops?”
“Oh sure. Let’s call the Senator’s buddies so they can finish him up.” I glare at Jacob’s reflection in the rearview mirror then turn to Tristan and start unbuttoning his tuxedo shirt.
He’s dead weight as I slide my hand under him to feel for an entry wound. I apply pressure to it. I can’t tell if I’m doing anything of consequence to stop the bleeding, but I keep trying. His body feels cold to the touch. The idea that Tristan might die tonight takes hold of me, and suddenly I can’t breathe.
“Gardenia,” Jacob calls out. “What’s going on? Is he?”
“No.” I shake my head. “What are we going to do if he dies?”
“We knew this was a risk.” He turns onto the main road out of the Hamptons.
“Did we?” I raise my voice. “Did we know those assholes were going to shoot him in the back?”
“Gardenia.” His voice is incredulous. “This revenge plan, fucking up the Senator, it was never a game. Tristan ending up dead in some ditch was a very real risk.”
“Stop talking.” I purse my lips.
Yeah, I knew going against a powerful senator could end in tragedy. But I figured the odds of Tristan not coming out on top were low, so low the Senator would be in jail for years before he realized who put him there, who took everything he held dear.
“What do we do then?” Jacob has his foot to the accelerator even though no one is chasing us. “Can Fisher patch him up?”
“No. Um.” I glance around the dark van, looking for the one solution that can save Tristan. “You’re going to have to call Santino. Dr. Salvatore is the only one who can help us. She won’t call the police.”
“Okay. That’s a good plan.” Jacob nods. “The city is closer than Bedford.”
He fumbles with his phone, swerving out of his lane. Luckily, at this hour we’re the only ones on the road. After scrolling through his contacts, he finally puts the call on speaker phone. With every ring, the panic in my chest grows. Santino is our only hope.
“This can’t be good,” Santino answers.
“It’s not.” I call from the back of the van. “Archer got shot. That fucking asshole Hunter shot him in the back.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Where are you?”
“We’re about forty miles out.” Jacob meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “He needs a doctor.”
“Okay.” Santino releases a breath. “I’ll call Donata. She can see him at her hospital. I’ll drop you a pin. When you get there, go straight to the truck delivery door in the back. You’ll see the signs as soon as you pull in.”
“Got it.” Jacob nods at the phone.
“We got you a doctor.” I turn my attention to Tristan. “Hang in there. This is not how it ends for you. Do you hear? It’s not fair.” I continue to press my palm to his side, while taking in his beautiful face. Even in this state, he still looks formidable to me. “You had to go after her. Didn’t you? If it weren’t for her, this business with the Senator would’ve ended months ago. And you wouldn’t be here. Dying.”
I’m mad at him for being so stupid. Why do men only think with their dicks? Why? Since the night he met Paloma, he’s been making one mistake after another. And it’s all because he wants to keep her. He thinks she’ll forget her old life and live happily ever after with him. But that’s a fantasy. Paloma is too damaged to see what the Senator has done to her. She’ll never see her father for the cold-blooded killer he is.
Tristan is so blinded by her; he can’t even fathom the idea that she may not love him the way he loves her. I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t need to be a genius to know he loves only her. And he’s too stubborn to see that life with me would’ve been as easy as breathing. We’re already a family. If we were together, our bond would be even stronger.
After what feels like hours, Jacob finally pulls into a private hospital in Midtown. The minute I see Dr. Donata Salvatore in her white coat waiting by the delivery door, my entire body begins to shake uncontrollably. This is it. If Donata can’t save him. I’m going to lose him forever. I cling to Tristan’s body in a desperate attempt to revive him with my love. But he doesn’t move. And he’s so cold.
“Gardenia,” Jacob says gently in my ear as he grips my shoulders. “Let them do their job.”
I hug Tristan’s unconscious body for another beat, then let Jacob slowly help me out of the van and bring me into his embrace. His body feels hot compared to Tristan’s cold lifeless body.
“Why is he not moving?” I bury my face in his chest.
“He’s lost a lot of blood.” He holds me tighter. “Gardenia, we have to call Freya.”
“I know.” I sob. “This is exactly what she warned us about. She knew the plan against Senator would get Tristan killed somehow, just like how it happened with his dad. We should’ve said no to helping him. He wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t agreed to help.”
“This is not your fault, Gardenia. Tristan would’ve come here alone. And you know that.” He kisses the top of my head. “He’ll pull through. He’s too stubborn to give up now.”
“Poor Aunt Freya. I can’t be the one to tell her her son is dying…again. She’s been through this already. No one should have to bury the two most important people in their lives.” I pull away to look up at Jacob.
The kindness in his hazel eyes comforts me. And I feel like a complete asshole for asking him to be here for me when I know it hurts him to be near me. I will never regret begging him to come back to the States with us. Last week when he told me and Dad that he wanted to stay in the UK, I about lost my shit. I can’t fathom being anywhere without him. He’s my rock.
“I’m glad you’re here.” I attempt a smile, but the sadness spreading through my body washes it away almost immediately.
“Me too.” He releases a breath as his gaze drops to my mouth for a second.
I fist his shirt with both hands, wishing I could give him what he wants. “We should call Dad first. He’ll know how to deliver the news to Aunt Freya.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.” His serenity is infectious to a point where I feel the turmoil inside me dissipate. He drops his arms to his sides and walks to the driver seat to grab his phone. He taps on the screen and holds it between us while it rings.
“Jacob, where are you?” Dad answers.
“Dad, Tristan got shot,” I blurt out. I try to explain what happened but everything else I say comes out in between sobs and is high-pitched.
“Okay.” Jacob hugs me to him, then says, “He’s in surgery now. Dr. Salvatore is tending to him personally. I’ll drop you a pin. There’s no rush. She said it would take hours. Just get here when you can.”
“Jesus.” Dad breathes into the speakerphone. “How bad is it?”
“He got shot in the back, Dad.” I push away from Jacob. “It’s bad. It’s as bad as it gets. He was so cold. Like he was dead.”
“But he wasn’t.” Jacob turns away from me and continues to give Dad a full recount of everything that happened tonight.
If Tristan had listened to us and not gone after Paloma by himself, he wouldn’t be in this mess. But no, he had to go in and save her, play the hero for her, even though she never asked him to do anything. Anger swirls in my stomach. All of this is her fault. There’s no way that by now she doesn’t know that the Senator killed Tristan’s dad.
So why would she leave the beach house with Tristan? What was her plan? To run away with him? And then what? Visit her murderer of a father over Christmas. Spend his birthday at the beach. Jesus fuck. How can she possibly think that her and Tristan have a future together. Her father is a fucking killer.
“I want to see him,” I say to Jacob after he hangs up with Dad.
“Donata said there’s a room where we can wait. Come on.” He puts his arm around me and ushers me inside.
The hospital is a maze. Either Jacob has been here before or Donata gave him specific instructions on where to go. He pulls me into a bathroom and walks me to the sink. I’m confused as to why we need washing until I glance down. He has my hands in his while he gets soap from the dispenser. Then carefully, he begins to rub suds all over my arms to dissolve the caked-on blood. I can’t stop the tears. So, I just let him do what he wants while I stare at the bloody water rising in the sink.
“The van,” I say.
“I’ll take care of it. It’ll be easier to just replace the carpet.” His smile is there for a split second before his frown wins over. He’s worried too, but he’ll never show it.
At some point after much scrubbing, we end up in the cafeteria. At this hour, it’s only us and one other family. Jacob finds us a table and awful tasting coffee. I drink it just to feel something. Since they took Tristan, everything feels numb.
“He’ll make it. You’ll be able to torture him on the daily sooner than you think.” Jacob sits across from me, bracing his arms on his knees. “Try and stay calm when Freya gets here. Yeah?”
“What do you mean?” I squint at him. “I’m calm.”
“I know the look in your eyes.” He raises both eyebrows. “You’re angry. And I’m pretty sure I know who you’re blaming this on.”
“Everything has gone south since the moment he met her.” I meet his gaze. “And you know that.”
“You don’t get to choose for him,” he deadpans.
“She’s dangerous. Maybe more so than her father. She has Tristan wrapped around her little finger. And she doesn’t care that she’s hurting him. That she’s messing with his head.” I suck in a breath. “He’s blinded by her beauty and…” I swallow so I don’t choke on the word. “And all the sex. He doesn’t see her for what she is.”
“She’s in love with him too.” Jacob sits back on his chair. “And if you could put your feelings for him aside for just a second, you would see that too. Let them be. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“What does that even mean?” I look away.
“You’re planning something.” He points a long finger at my face. “And by the pout on your lips, I know it’s something that is going to make Tristan furious when he wakes up.”
He’s not wrong. I hate that he knows me so well. But the thing is, Tristan needs our help. While he can be terrifying and all-powerful, he’s dying right now. He’s vulnerable in a way I never thought possible. The Senator can send anyone right now to finish the job. With Tristan out of the way, Freya, and even Dad, Jacob and me, are next just for being in his circle of trust. I can’t let that asshole hurt my family.
But Jacob doesn’t get it. He thinks I’m just jealous of Paloma. And yeah maybe, but that’s beside the point. It’s up to us to keep Tristan safe while he’s convalescing. That’s assuming he survives. Tears pool in my eyes. I take a sip of the scalding coffee, and I don’t even care that it burns me or that it tastes like shit. The bitter taste is better than the sadness threatening to swallow me whole.
Two hours later, Aunt Freya and Dad show up. As expected, she’s destroyed by the news. I shoot to my feet and rush to hug her.
“You should’ve called the minute it happened,” she admonishes me, then gasps at the state of my top and jeans. “What happened to you?”
“This isn’t mine.” My eyes water. “I’m so sorry we didn’t call. It was horrible. I saw them leaving the house, Tristan and Paloma. I could tell Tristan was beyond scared for her. But of course, they couldn’t just get in the car and drive. Instead, they decided that making out was a perfect idea.” I rub the side of my face. “Hunter came out. I stood there, smiling because I thought Tristan was going to give him another beating. But then, he took out a gun and shot at them.”
“Is Paloma hurt?” Aunt Freya places a hand over her mouth. “Where is she?”
“No, she’s not hurt.” I inhale to ease the pain in my chest. “Tristan took the bullet for her. After he fell to the ground, she went back inside with her ex-boyfriend.”
Aunt Freya shoots Jacob a look as if she can’t believe Paloma would go anywhere with Hunter, as if I left her behind on purpose. Jacob understands her meaning and immediately corrects me. “She didn’t go willingly. But we couldn’t go back for her. Tristan needed immediate help. He’s our priority.”
“Exactly. She’s with her family.” I brace my hands on my hips.
“That man isn’t right, Gardenia,” Dad says. “Even if he’s family to her, he’s dangerous.”
“Dad, there was nothing we could do. The guy had a gun.” I glare at him. “It’s not like I let him take her. I had no choice.”
“They know that.” Jacob puts up his hands. “It’s not your fault she’s not here. Okay?”
It kind of is my fault. I had time to step in and help Paloma. Between the two of us, we might’ve been able to take the gun away from Hunter. Or at least, distract him long enough for Jacob to come to our aid, and maybe, hit him with his van.
“What’s done is done.” Dad puts his arm around me. “We’ll think of something once Tristan is out of surgery.”
“She’s going to tell him, Dad.” I turn to face him. “If Tristan told Paloma who he really is, she’s going to tell her dad. Or maybe he already knows. Why else tell Hunter to shoot him dead?”
“Maybe he was just jealous.” Jacob rubs the back of his head. “I mean, he was the very official boyfriend until Tristan cut in.”
“But what if he was following the Senator’s orders?” I ask.
“I know.” Dad nods, meeting Aunt’s Freya’s gaze. “We have to assume the Senator knows. We have to assume he’s coming for you.”
“I understand.” Aunt Freya hugs herself. “I’m taking my son back to the UK. I don’t want him spending another day here. I knew his coming here was a mistake.” She blinks and fat tears stream down her face.
“So what do we do?” Jacob folds his arms over his chest.
“Tristan will hate the idea of going into hiding again.” Dad rubs the creases on his forehead. “But what choice do we have when he can’t decide for himself?”
“Or fight back for that matter.” I wipe my cheek, trying not to picture Tristan somewhere in this hospital unconscious and fighting for his life.
Jacob looks to me. I hate that he knows me so well, that he knows I already have a plan worked out. But I can’t take full credit for it. Tristan and I discussed it months ago after an argument he had with Aunt Freya. She knew his trip here could only end in two ways—with him dead. Or the Senator dead. But Tristan is so stubborn, he couldn’t fathom an outcome where his perfectly orchestrated plan of revenge didn’t end with the Senator losing it all. Just like Tristan wanted.
And now here we are. Tristan is the one about to lose it all—his life, his wife, his family. We must leave tonight—preferably before the Senator has time to figure out Archer is Tristan Sallows, that his enemy’s son is here for his pound of flesh.
“What’s the plan, Gardenia?” Jacob cocks his head, studying my features like some sort of human lie detector.
I glance behind him and spot Donata by the door. “She’s here.” I rush to meet her. “How is he?”
“He lost a lot of blood, as you know.” She looks exhausted and worried. “We’re doing everything we can. But we need more blood.”
“Take mine.” Aunt Freya steps in, wiping her cheeks. “Take all of it, if you must.”
“Thank you.” Donata smiles.
“She’s Archer’s mom,” I say. “She’s a match.”
“How soon can we move him?” Dad joins the group, putting his arm around Aunt Freya who looks like she’s about to faint.
I can’t imagine the kind of pain she’s going through. She already had to go through something similar when Tristan was only ten years old. Getting caught in the fire almost killed him. Now, twenty years later, she’s going through the same pain all over again because of that fucker. Tristan wanted the Senator to live out his years in shame and with nothing. But the only way to stop the Senator is by killing him.
“Our hospital has the latest technology. Archer is getting the best care there is. I promise you.” Donata’s gaze darts around the group, until recognition registers on her face. “You want to take him out of the country, don’t you? And not because you’re looking for better medical care.”
“Did Santino tell you?” I ask.
“He did. More or less.” She stuffs her hands in the pockets of her white coat. “He left out a few details. But I got the gist of it. Archer isn’t safe.” She scans the room again. “Where’s his wife?”
“She’s not coming.” I shake my head. “But his mom can decide for him, right? If he stays or goes?”
“Of course.” Her smile is full of sympathy for Aunt Freya. “I’m assuming you’re wanting to take him back to the UK. But as his doctor, my recommendation would be not to move him. Even if you use a helicopter, it’s too risky. He could die in the process.”
Aunt Freya weeps silently into Dad’s shoulder. Dad clenches his jaw then asks, “How long before he can be safely discharged?”
“He’s physically in great shape, and he’s young. So I would say minimum two months to recover. The bullet didn’t hit any organs. He got lucky. But it will take a while for him to be able to regain full function of his legs.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “He might not walk again?”
“It’s a possibility.” She bites her lip, then switches her attention to Aunt Freya. “If you’ll excuse me, Archer needs me. And he needs blood. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Aunt Freya takes in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
I exchange a look with Jacob. He slightly shakes his head as if he knows I’m about to say something crazy. “Before you go, Dr. Salvatore. We need a favor.”
“Of course, anything. A friend of Santino’s is a friend of mine.” She smiles.
Despite the hours she’s spent in surgery trying to save Tristan, she’s determined to do whatever it takes to help us. Her angelic features remind me that miracles can happen. This war with the Senator is far from over.
“Guys, hear me out.” I look to Dad and then Aunt Freya. “Like Dad said, we need to assume the Senator knows everything. Do you remember what Tristan said the night before we came to New York?”
“He said a lot of things that night, Gardenia.” Jacob watches me intently.
“Right.” I run a hand through my hair. “He said that if things didn’t work out. If we were ever in danger, we should go back to the beginning.” I take in a breath. “This is it. We’re all in danger. So now we have to do something he’s not going to like.” I am sure Tristan is going to hate me for this. Mainly because Paloma will be destroyed by the news. But what choice do we have? “Tristan has to die tonight.”