Page 31 of Pucking Unhinged
“Look at the text I just sent,” Sebastian says, his voice flat. “That’s the guy, right?”
He doesn’t have to explain. Tristan clicks into the messages on my phone, and when the image fills the screen, I gasp.
It’s him. One of the filthy men who carjacked us. The one who got away that night, the one who has been tormenting Tristan’s thoughts ever since.
He’s bloody, tied to a chair, his head tilted back like he’s been beaten within an inch of his life. He looks to be in a warehouse of some kind. All I can see is stained cement flooring…blood or oil? I’m not sure.
I know Tristan’s mind is racing a mile a minute, but he manages to clip out the words, “Who has him? Where did you get this? Answer me!” His voice has a raw edge, and I shove my hand to his chest, palm flat, trying to tamp the rage brewing under his ribs.
“Jesus,” Sebastian says, breath tight. “The Moretti triplets have him. He was running some money for their father, and Benjamin recognized him from the photo of him and Dad. You’d have known this two hours ago if you hadn’t turned your phone off like an absolute baby. Be an adult and answer your phone.”
My stomach drops out from under me. I’ve heard Tristan and Sebastian bicker countless times, so that's nothing new. But something is worrying me. “Why did you say we need to get away from your father?” I ask, voice small.
Sebastian bites his lower lip, and for a second I can see the weight of it in his face. “Apparently, this asshole is saying Dad hired him to carjack us that night. The objective was simply to get rid of Mom. Winter was just going to be part of the payment.”
It’s like someone kicked me in the gut. Mr. Vale was never warm and fuzzy to me, but was this his plan all along forbringing me into his home? He just had to bide his time, make it look like it was truly an unfortunate event. No one would have looked for me. I had no one who would have cared that I was missing other than Tristan.
Tristan’s body feels absolutely still beside me. It’s like his whole body is rigid, tremouring with a cold, coiling fury that I can feel through my palm still resting on his chest.
“He could be lying, but—” Sebastian starts, and the word hangs there because none of us think the guy is making it up.
“But he’s not,” Tristan cuts in, voice flat and final. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
I let him pull me closer until my head is tucked into the hollow of his shoulder. He holds me like he’s trying to calm himself. We need to stay calm for this if we’re going to make the right moves.
“You know I’m going to kill him,” Tristan says to Sebastian, as if offering a courtesy rather than asking. It’s their father after all. There’s no question in it, only a promise that it will be done.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Sebastian replies without hesitation. “I’d kill him myself if I were there.”
Tristan doesn’t answer that. He only says, ice-hard, “Tell the Morettis not to kill that fucker. I want to look him in the eye while he’s gasping for fucking air.”
“You got it. And turn your fucking phone on,” Sebastian says, and then both of them hang up the same instant, the screen going dark.
I turn to him, and my voice trembles more than I like. “What are we going to do?”
His hand finds the nape of my neck, and the comfort in it makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. “I’m going to make everyone regret ever putting you in danger.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. It’s soft, fierce, a benediction and a threat rolled into one.
WINTER
“Do you wanna get out of here? I heard some people at breakfast talking about the saunas in the spa wing. State-of-the-art, private, total luxury,” I ask Bianca as soon as Tristan gives me the signal. I’m hoping that my voice isn’t shaking. The saunas, according to Tristan, is one of the only places at this resort without cameras. This is his idea, I'm just playing my part.
“Oh, that sounds divine,” Bianca says, draping her arm across the back of my chair, leaning down with pleading eyes. We’re out on the terrace that overlooks the rocky coast. It’s beautiful, but I can’t help but feel uneasy. Last night was magical, and I’m sad that this morning everything came crashing in on us. Not everything. Tristan and I will always have each other, no matter what. I shake off my thoughts and finally look over at Bianca when she speaks again. “I can’t stand being around the parents any longer, and you look like you could use a break from ol’ sweet disposition over there. Where did you guys disappear to anyway in the middle of the night?”
She points directly at Tristan, and I have to swallow down what I really want to say. He’s over in the corner, keeping his intense eyes on me while he’s on a phone call. Acting likeeverything is fine this morning has not been easy. I know we have to bide our time, and Tristan has spent most of the morning on calls with the Moretti brothers, and I’ve been distracting Bianca because she’s, in Tristan’s words, a meddling busybody. The fact that we’re at a Black Crown owned resort makes things a little complicated. While I know Mr. Vale isn’t leaving here breathing, Tristan needs to clear things with the Morettis before he confronts his father. Killing someone, even his own father, no matter the reason, on their property would be a sign of disrespect to them without the go ahead.
I don’t get to respond to Bianca who is looking at me expectantly, because her mother has arrived from what looks like a little shopping spree at the luxury stores located within the resort. “Not so fast, Josh. Who’s going to help me with all of my bags?” Emily’s shrill voice cuts through the lounge, drawing every pair of eyes in the room. She’s holding what looks like at least ten bags. I glance up just in time to see Josh heading toward the grand double doors that lead into the main elevators that will take him back up to where our rooms are. Emily’s standing, shaking her curls down her back, holding up the bags and sighing.
I can see the tension coil through Mr. Vale’s back, even beneath his fitted black polo shirt, as Emily calls her son’s name twice more. Josh doesn’t turn around. The automatic doors glide shut behind his blond head, and my stomach twists. I’ve been watching Mr. Vale since we came down from our room, and something is off about the way he keeps glancing at Tristan. I don’t know if he can tell that Tristan was alerted to his involvement in the carjacking, or if he’s just had some sick plan for us coming up to this resort all along. Emily is complaining, pointing at her bags because Mr. Vale hasn’t moved a muscle to help her.
“Ugh, is she going to screech the entire time we’re here?” Bianca mutters, looping her arm through mine and tugging me to stand. She slings her arm around my shoulders like we’ve known each other forever, not barely a couple of days.
I don’t want to leave to get this whole thing started without one more hug from Tristan. It feels like we just fully found one another, and I’m not ready for that to be over. I fake a smile and pull away from Bianca. I walk with purpose over to Tristan and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing up on my toes and press a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t be long,” I whisper, and I start to pull away. To my surprise, Tristan wraps me in his arms, hauling me against his chest and crushing his lips to mine in a searing, yet short kiss.
“I’ll make sure you’re safe. Don’t worry, you’re protected. Always,” Tristan murmurs against my mouth, and I can’t hide my little snicker that leaves my mouth when Emily gasps, loudly asking Mr. Vale if he sees his children kissing.
His children who he tried to murder and traffic, but that’s a discussion for another day.
