I’d hear Taylor’s voice.
His scorn, mockery, contempt.
And the fear would be back.
But how did you banish something so cemented in your psyche? It was like he was still alive in my head, regardless of what I did.
“Go for a swim,” Tristan said. “Clear your head.”
“Swim?” I repeated. “You want me to swim?”
“Either swim or over-think things until you give yourself a headache. Use the hot tub or lap pool. I have spare suits from parties I’ve thrown, and I’m pretty sure one of them will fit you. Take the trail down to the pool. The bathhouse is on your right… and relax.”
“Relax.” I almost laughed out loud. “Right.”
“Professor’s orders.”
“To put on a bikini while he cooks for me?”
“Exactly.” Tristan flashed me a sideways grin and kept working.
“Fine.” I pushed away from the barstool and slowly made my way down the trail. Maybe he was right; maybe it would help.
Besides, the last time I’d swim was at one of Taylor’s pool parties; may as well swipe one more t
hing he ruined off my list.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I drove away that day…from everything. I went home, packed all my stuff and bought a ticket to Seattle. I didn’t even take my car—I’d just buy one up there. I needed to escape so desperately that the money didn’t matter. My parents were just happy I was smiling again—which is sad considering someone had to die in order to put it back on my face. —Mel
Tristan
CUTTING VEGETABLES WHILE so pissed off you couldn’t see straight? Probably not the best idea I’d ever had. I was such an ass, but I’d needed to get rid of her. It was damn-near impossible to hold my anger at bay, and all I really wanted to do was slam my hand against the counter until either it broke or the counter broke.
“Damn it, Taylor.” I hated him. I’d never felt such hate for another human being in my entire existence; it was overpowering, exhilarating, terrifying.
I dropped the knife and dialed Wes’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“Anything?” I barked.
“Whoa, you alright?”
“Would you be alright?” I turned around as the sound of water splashing hit my ears. At least she wouldn’t hear our conversation; at least I’d had her leave before I lost complete control and scared her shitless.
“No,” Wes finally said. “I wouldn’t be, and sorry, we haven’t found any medical records. Nothing. I have my PI working on it. Gabe has his contacts working on it, but… it’s like he never existed. Though we did finally catch a break on the website.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. I should have the information to you by tomorrow. Just do yourself a favor.”
“What?” My eyes were trained on Lisa’s body as she swam across the pool.
“You gotta tell her man.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No. I can’t.”
Wes sighed heavily, the puff of breath amplified over the phone connection. “Look, I’m not saying she’s going to take it well.”