Rhapsody (The Teplo Trilogy #2) (28 page)

"No." He shook his head as he repositioned himself across from her. Raking a hand through his hair, he glanced up at the ceiling. "I think he lied through his teeth to keep everyone else out of it."

"Why?" she asked. "I mean…." She shook her head, unsure how to put into words how she felt, when his eyes fell to her face.

"Why would he confess to wanting to rape you to keep them out of it?" he asked bluntly and then grimaced when she cringed away from the word. "Fuck, beautiful." He reached out to stroke her cheek in apology. "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine," she lied, nuzzling into his touch.

He arched a brow at her as if he knew she lied, but he didn't press the issue. He merely grimaced. "I honestly don't know why. There could be a thousand reasons why he'd do it. Anton Vetrov, bastard that he is, is smart. You saw the file."

It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. She had seen the file. She'd nearly memorized that damn file, fat lot of good it had done her. Seeing a list of charges and suspicions on paper and actually understanding what it meant were two vastly different things. She'd learned that intimately last night.

"Four years ago, Hannah Ramone stabbed her boyfriend six times and claimed she thought he was an intruder. No one believed it, the boyfriend included, but Anton sent Paulo to have a talk with him and he miraculously changed his story. She walked away without a single charge." Tristan snorted in disgust as he recounted what she'd already read in the file. "Anton and Paulo pay well, Lillian, and they make damn sure they own the people they let into their inner circle. There's no telling what they have on someone like Malachi. He's a twisted fuck and he always has been. It'll be easier for him to take the fall for this than risk incurring their wrath."

"Going to prison is the better of the two choices here?" Even after all she'd learned about the type of people Vetrov hired, she still found that hard to believe.

"You didn't see Emma, beautiful. I did." His eyes closed and then popped them open again as if he didn't like what he found behind closed lids. Remembering what he'd told her, she figured he probably didn't. He'd seen so much in his life. She couldn't even imagine living with those horrible images and memories haunting her as they did him.

"Trust me when I say prison is the better of the two choices for him. And with Francisco involved, at least this way he gets a chance at parole. Kalani and Randall didn't even get that, and Vetrov supposedly cared for both of them." He snorted. "Emma certainly didn't get that chance."

She reached out for his hand, wanting him closer. He gave in willingly, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding tight. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wish…I wish you didn't have to see her either."

"I know you do, but it is what it is. Neither of us can change it now." He sounded like he still wished that were different. "There's a lot we can't change now."

She understood. There's a lot she would have done exactly the same way given a second chance, everything about him, for instance, but some of it—like Emma—didn't make that list. If she could go back and tell the girl to get out, not bump into her at all…anything would have been better than the girl dying for no real reason.

"Do you think she really told them about me?" she asked.

He blew out a breath. "I don't know, beautiful."

She didn't either. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how they'd found out about her and her past. Whether Emma had been beaten into revealing what she knew or they'd found out some other way, it all amounted to the same thing.

"What happens next?" she asked, trying to fill the silence.

"I'm supposed to meet Jase at the office at two for a debriefing. Davis demanded I come in."

"No, I mean what do we do from here? Malachi won't get out of jail, will he?" She couldn't hide the tremor in her voice at the thought that he might, which was ridiculous. She couldn't exactly go home even if he did remain locked up. Still though, she couldn't pretend Malachi didn't frighten her, because he did. She'd never felt as helpless as she had last night. She wanted him behind bars and guarded by cops with guns until he went to prison.

That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

"He's not getting out of jail, beautiful," Tristan promised her. "And next, we gather enough evidence to ensure they're all charged with enough felonies to send them away for a long time. They aren't walking away from this."

Lillian swallowed. "I don't want you to go after them, Tristan."

He didn't say anything. Not one word. He still looked calm.

She hurried on to explain her position anyway, figuring an argument was imminent. "If Malachi really did tell the truth…." She faltered, unable to complete the thought, let alone the sentence. Tristan's hand tightened around hers, offering comfort and strength. She took a deep breath and then let it out. "Am I wrong for hoping that he lied?" she asked in a small voice, feeling horrible for even thinking it when his lie had already caused so much trouble.

Tristan reached out and plucked her from the bed, settling her in his lap. His arms engulfed her, holding her close to his heart. "I've been praying to God since the minute Jason told me what he had to say that he made it up. It's fucked up, but Christ." He buried is face in her hair and inhaled deeply. "I can't even think about…if he did anything…" Tension broke through the calm, radiating from him as if the thought really were as painful as he said.

That made her feel better. Like she wasn't a monster for hoping Malachi really had been lying about what he wanted from her. She didn't even want to think about what it meant for her if he hadn't. Given the choice between death and an hour alone with him, she would have chosen death every single time. She laid her head on Tristan's chest, listening to his heart beat a steady rhythm beneath her ear.

"Thank you," she finally said.

"For what?" He sounded surprised.

"For not hating me. For not blaming me. For not leaving me." Her voice quivered on the last words, a memory of the morning sweeping through her. She'd never hurt so badly before. Not even losing the ability to dance had hurt as much as it had when he'd tried to push her away, tried to make himself say that he didn't want her, didn't love her. "I know I messed up last night, but I wanted to help you."

"Beautiful, I think…."

Whatever he intended to say died on his lips as the doorbell chimed.

"Shit," he cursed, his arms tensing around her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, instantly on alert.

He didn't say anything.

"Tristan?"

"I need you to promise me something." He turned her around in his lap until he could look her in the eyes. The way he said it, the way he stared at her, made her stomach sink. Whatever he wanted wouldn't be something she wanted to give him.

"What–"

"Just listen," he urged her, his blue eyes boring into hers as the doorbell rang twice more in quick succession.

She nodded reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to cover her ears like a small child to keep from hearing what he had to say. She wanted to bury her head in the covers and go back to sleep.

"I want you to promise me that you won't fight me on this, Lillian."

"Tristan, no." She shook her head back and forth in his hands as soon as he said it, already knowing what he wanted from her. "No, I'm not leaving." She couldn't promise him that. She wouldn't.

The doorbell rang again.

"Beautiful, you have to go." His expression turned stony, implacable. "I can't let you stay here. You know I can't do that after last night. You have to go."

"No." She scrambled awkwardly off of his lap, putting distance between them so she could think, process…not strangle him for this. "This morning you apologized over and over for trying to send me away, and now you're doing it anyway?"

He cringed as she flung that heated reminder at him, but he didn't back down. "I can't let you stay, you know that."

She stared at him, trying to absorb the words. The truth hit her like a ton of bricks. The way he'd held her, the way he'd made love to her, and the things he'd said. He'd never intended to let her stay. The feeling that they'd get through this together vanished like a puff of smoke on the wind at that realization. She'd assumed he'd changed his mind, but he'd never said the words. Not once had he promised to keep her here with him.

God, she'd been so stupid!

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her voice raw. She felt numb, even the ache in her leg muted.

"You know why." He swallowed hard. "It's safer for you if you aren't here."

His answer sent fury quaking through her numb parts. "No. You don't get to send me away, Tristan. You don't get to decide for me what's best for me. It doesn't work that way!"

"You think I want this?" he asked, his eyes full of sadness. "I don't, beautiful. I want you here so fucking much it's going to kill me to watch you walk out that door."

"Then don't make me do it."

"I have to."

"You don't."

His expression was set in hard lines, his determination to send her away obvious.

She did the only thing she knew to do to get him to change his mind.

She begged.

"Please, don't do this, Tristan. Please."

"It's too late, beautiful." He reached out to cup her cheek in his hand even as he broke her heart.

She leaned away, refusing to let him touch her. She couldn't. His hands on her now…. She was always weak where he was concerned. She always caved, backed down, let him win when his hands were on her, and she didn't want him to win this time. God help her, she wasn't sure she could survive letting him win this time. "Don't do this," she pleaded.

"It's already done, Lillian." He didn't even react to her moving away from him. He merely dropped his hand, his expression closed off from her.

"What?" She blinked at him. "What do you mean it's already done? It's not done, dammit. I'm still here! We can still–" She couldn't seem to stop trying to convince him. She didn't want to stop trying to convince him.

"We can't. It's done, beautiful. I called your father this morning."

"He's here," she whispered, looking stricken.

Tristan nodded. The expression on her face ripped at his heart as he stared at her. He felt like such a bastard for doing this. He wanted to tell her that he changed his mind, that he didn't mean it, and that she could stay, but he couldn't say any of that when it wasn't true. As much as he wanted her here, he wanted her safely away more.

And he didn't have time to talk her through it now. She was already scrambling from the bed, her expression morphing from hurt to anger and back again in rapid succession.

"Lillian." He climbed to his feet too, fucking hating that he'd hurt her. He didn't want that, ever. And how fucked up was it that he'd pushed her so hard to beg him because he was a possessive bastard and now that she'd done it, actually begged him for something when she wasn't out of her mind with pleasure, he hated it?

"No." She shuffled away before he could touch her, talk to her, and make her understand why he had to do this. Why she had to do it.

"Beautiful, please let me–"

"I said no!" She turned on him, her eyes ablaze in her flushed face. "I begged you not to do this and you did it anyway. You went behind my back and called my father." She drew a shuddering breath. Her eyes flashed fury. "Did you ever intend to let me stay, Tristan? Was I only here until you found a reason for me not to be?"

He didn't answer her. What was he supposed to say? He needed her safe. Why did he feel like he should be apologizing for that now? He couldn't even tell her that he hadn't been looking for a reason to send her away because part of him wondered if maybe he had. If maybe he'd been trying to find something to give him the strength since the very beginning to get her out of this. He'd never wanted her involved, and had been so weak to agree with Jason on any of it.
Had
he been looking for a reason to let her go even while wanting to keep her here?

He didn't know.

She took his silence as confirmation. "You made love to me last night, and you knew even then, but you let me believe you weren't going to do this." She sucked in a deep breath as she stared at him, willing him to deny it.