8. Tristan
8
TRISTAN
D espite the warm night, Elle sleeps with her windows firmly closed. Unfortunately for her, one of her housemates doesn’t.
After carefully edging the window fully open, I pull myself up the final distance and climb through. Sneaking in through the window isn’t exactly my normal method of operation. Usually when Bracken sends me to beat someone up, I just kick the door in. But I have climbed in through a couple of upstairs windows before as well, which made this particular mission a little easier.
Straightening on the floor, I quickly sweep my gaze over the room. The woman who lives here is sleeping soundly to my left, the thin pale blue cover pulled up over her back where she lies on her stomach. I keep my eyes on her as I quietly move across the floor and towards the door.
A few pieces of clothing and a pair of high heels are scattered across the pale wooden floorboards. I step over them carefully.
When I reach the door, I pause as I slowly inch the handle down. After one last glance at the sleeping woman, I push the door open.
A faint squeak comes from the hinges.
I freeze. Grimacing, I glare at the uncooperative door before casting a quick look at the girl in the bed. She doesn’t even stir.
Breathing a silent sigh of relief, I slip out through the door and then sneak down the hall to Elle’s room.
This time, I’m even more careful as I open the door. Thankfully, this one doesn’t make any noise.
I slink into Elle’s room.
Silvery moonlight falls in through the window, providing the otherwise dark space with faint splashes of light.
For a few seconds, I just stand there on the wooden floor, studying the room around me.
It’s only a simple bedroom with a desk, a set of drawers, a closet with a mirror next to it, and a bed against the wall, but Elle has somehow still managed to make it look like something out of a designer magazine. It’s obsessively perfect. Everything is arranged just so . It’s neat to the point of not even looking like a real room. More like a showroom. It’s weird. Though I suppose it fits Elle perfectly.
I slide my gaze to the bed by the wall on my left.
Moonlight falls across the white frame and the crisp white sheets.
It takes everything I have to suppress the urge to scoff when my gaze lands on Elle.
Even the way she sleeps is unnaturally perfect.
She’s lying on her back with the thin cover pulled up to her chest and her arms resting on either side of her body. Her wavy light brown hair is draped across the pillow like gentle waves. I study her face .
Surprise pulses through me.
Despite the deep, rhythmic way her chest rises and falls, a clear indicator that she is indeed asleep, she doesn’t look relaxed. Usually, people’s features are smoothened by sleep because they don’t have to control their expression anymore. But Elle looks… tense. Troubled.
Her brows are slightly furrowed, and it looks like she is clenching her jaw.
I scowl at her.
What could she possibly have to be tense about? Her entire life is a fucking walk in the park. She has never had to worry about her future. Never had to worry about how she was going to afford to attend university. Never had to worry about how to get out from underneath crippling debt.
Elle Summers has never had to learn what it’s like to live with a near constant pressure. Pressure to succeed. The constant pressure to live up to someone else’s expectations, because if you don’t, they will take away your future. If she had known just how hard I worked to get that full scholarship from Bercester U, then she would never have destroyed it all with a few careless words. Or maybe she would have. Because why would she care?
Bitterness washes over me.
Tearing my gaze from her sleeping form, I shake my head in disgust and instead sneak over to the set of drawers. Elle might have breezed through life up until today. But now, she is about to learn just how difficult it can be when you have no real support system.
After carefully moving aside some neatly folded sweaters, I hide a few small bags underneath them. Then I check to make sure that everything looks untouched. Satisfied, I give myself a nod and then straighten again .
Fabric rustles behind me.
My heart jerks, and I whirl towards the bed.
Elle is moving.
For a brief second, I’m completely frozen.
But then I notice that her eyes are still closed.
A tiny groan escapes her lips as she kicks off the cover and turns slightly on her side. The moment she has finished, that tense expression on her face eases up a little. As if she can breathe easier now.
I watch her. Several conflicting emotions swirl inside my chest.
That perfect image of her lying on her back with her arms by her side and the cover pulled up has now been shattered. With the cover gone, I can see her clothes. She sleeps in a thin silk top and a pair of tiny shorts in the same material. Both of them are a pale pink color and have an elegant look to them. But the top has slid up her stomach and the shorts have twisted a little around her thighs. It makes her look… messier.
Every time I have seen her, she has always been immaculately dressed and perfectly composed. Even back when we were in high school, it always filled me with the most irrational irritation. I just wanted to stalk up to her and mess up her hair and rumple her clothes. Which is why I couldn’t stop myself from doing just that yesterday.
Originally, I had just planned to show up to her house and walk her to school as a way to make her housemates angry with her. But then I saw her in that stylish dress, and I just couldn’t help myself. I just had to shatter that perfect fa?ade and see if there was a real human being underneath that robotic exterior.
And the way she reacted to what I did back in that alley… surprised me .
The way she shivered when I brushed my hands over her neck. The way she almost seemed to lose track of reality when I slid my hands into her hair. The way her voice turned breathless when she spoke. It was not at all what I had expected. And it affected me too.
Though in truth, what affected me the most was what she looked like when I was done. When her collar was unbuttoned and her hair was messy and her clothes were torn… She looked hot.
Just like she does now.
Standing there two steps away, I watch her as she lies there on her side among the messy sheets.
She is extraordinarily pretty. She always has been. And her body is the perfect mixture of soft curves and sleek, toned muscle.
Another wave of bitterness crawls up my throat.
Yeah, Elle Summers is hot.
Too bad she’s a rat.
Turning on my heel, I leave the little snitch in her bed and make my way back to the open window in the other room. After climbing down the wall again, I drop to the ground on the grass outside the house.
Soft winds tug at my clothes as I hurry back down the street. But when I reach my house, I pass right by it and instead head for the main campus area. I have one more mission to complete tonight. Then I can finally get some sleep.
I have classes, important classes, in the morning and I need to be well rested. Initially, I had planned to do this last night. The night right after I ruined her clothes and her lunch. But Bracken called me in for work, which caused me to lose most of the time I needed for my studies. So I had to push it to today.
The roads are dark and deserted around me as I make my way up to the small building where campus police have their offices, but I still check over my shoulder to make sure that no one is watching me as I slip an anonymous tip in through the slot in their door.
A wicked grin spreads across my mouth.
Mission complete. Now, I can head back and get some sleep so that?—
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Scowling, I pull it out and unlock the screen.
Frustration and anger and a suffocating sense of helplessness crash over me like a tidal wave as I read the text I have just received.
Mr. Bracken: Come.
For fuck’s sake! I need to sleep. I can’t afford to be exhausted and unfocused during class in the morning.
Letting out a soft snarl, I shove my phone back into my pocket and rake my fingers through my hair in frustration. I wish I could just tell him no. Tell him to just fuck off and leave me alone.
But I can’t.
Because he owns me.
He is bankrolling my entire education here. So when he calls, I show.
I drag in a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs, but it barely feels like it’s working. Most days, I can ignore the reality of my situation and pretend like everything is fine. But at times like these, I feel so fucking trapped that I can barely breathe.
It feels as if invisible walls are pressing in on me from all sides. And I can’t even break through them, because if I do, I will lose everything.
So I force in another hard breath and drop my hands from my hair. Then I start towards the parking lot.
Elle has no idea what it’s like to live like this.
But soon, she will.