Tryst (18 page)

Thinking maybe a movie will cheer her up I click the T.V. on and watch as the news flashes with images from the hearing. My stomach sinks as the reporter cuts to a scene outside of the jailhouse of her mother and father walking out after she makes bail. The reporter asks her a few questions, and at the sound of her mother’s voice, Bentley breaks into hysterics, all of the pain of the events today washing over her. I don’t know how to comfort her right now, knowing her mother is out there. The knocking at the door has her nearly jumping off the couch and I fear this will become the new norm, flinching and jumping at even the smallest sounds, the quickest flashes of a shadow.

Grabbing the food, I set it on the coffee table and gather her back in my arms. She tries speaking through the sobs, “Why are you here? Even after all the shitty things I say to you, you’re still here, why? Why wouldn’t you want to be with someone normal? My life is beyond fucked up, Tristan. You’ve seen the shit she’s capable of. If I were you, I’d run as far as fucking possible in the opposite direction. Don’t you see it? Nothing is okay, and nothing will ever be okay. No matter what, she’s always going to be there to haunt me. They don’t even think she’s a big enough threat to hold her.”

I don’t know how to convince her she’s wrong. At the moment, it doesn’t seem like I can promise everything will be okay because she’s right, that psychotic piece of shit is still out there, planning who the fuck knows what. We’d be stupid to think just because she’s been caught she will give up. She’s going to try even harder this time, especially if she’s already going to get locked up for it.

The pain in my chest is unbearable as I think of what my life would be, should something happen to Bentley. I can’t. I cannot actually imagine living without her anymore. If I have to kill that bitch with my bare hands to protect Bentley, I will. She’s mine, and I’m not letting anyone or anything take her away from me again. It damn near killed me when she was missing, having not been told where Cage’s guys were taking her. I can’t relive that again. Her mother may be all for playing this game, but she’s fucking underestimating me, because this time I’m playing for keeps.

Chapter 18

Bentley

It seems like hours pass before I can see clearly out of my eyes again, although not very much. They are close to swollen shut. My nerves are frazzled and I’m exhausted in ways I didn’t even know I could be. Tristan stays by my side the whole time, and for the life of me, I can’t understand why. The man is damn near perfect; he’s sexy, sweet, smart, and he has his life in order. Why the fuck would he want to be with someone whose life is as fucked up as mine? Since the day he met me, he’s done nothing but ride my emotional roller coaster into a state of insanity.

I owe him an apology. I never should have accused him of having anything to do with my mother. I know it was wrong, but hearing my mother say he was a part of what happened to me, I couldn’t help but think the worst. I couldn’t rationalize why he would even consider putting me in that position. I believe him though. He wouldn’t have put me through it if he knew the hell I would endure down there. I don’t know what he was talking about had happened while I was unconscious and I’m grateful he didn’t go into the details. That doesn’t stop it from hurting, though. He put me in that position, willingly. He could have told me. I would have trusted him and Cage to do the right thing, instead of being terrified.

“Tristan,” I begin, “I’m sorry for what I said. I assumed the worst when I heard you on my recorder, and after she told me you had a part in it, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. I thought- I thought maybe it was all bullshit. Maybe I really am as pathetic as she says,” I mumble.

“Don’t, Bentley, don’t do that. Don’t sell yourself short. You have no idea just how incredible you are. You’re beautiful, funny, smart, and you have a vocabulary that could put even the toughest man to shame. I should have told you what was going on, baby, and I’m sorry. I can’t blame you for not trusting me when it’s my fault you were put through that hell. I wanted to protect you and instead, I ended up getting you hurt. That shit is on me. Believe me, baby, with the way I feel right now, the shit you said is nothing. Fuck if I don’t deserve that and more. But, baby, you keep nailing me in the balls and we might never get to see little baby Bentley’s running around.”

I say it jokingly, but the truth is, I can’t think of anything that would be more perfect. Maybe not right this minute, especially not with the thundercunt on the loose. But if I get to see my future, I want Bentley in it, and I want a few little ones running around our feet.

“I’m sorry did you just say baby Bentley’s?” I stutter, “As in plural? And do I have a say in this?” I tease, while poking him in the arm.

“Pretty sure the ‘s’ on the end of that means more than one, baby cakes, and don’t think for one second I’m going to let your admission upstairs earlier slide. Since when did my tough girl go all soft? Huh? Up there all bad ass kicking the shit out of me, but when it comes to telling me she’s fallen in love with me, she’s quiet as a fucking church mouse.”

I look up at him with wide eyes. I didn’t even realize I had said it, let alone that he had heard.  I can’t recall a single time I’ve ever said I loved anyone other than Cora. Those words just don’t come easily to me, let alone admit I’d fallen in love to him when I couldn’t even admit it to myself. I try to curl up into myself, to make myself somehow smaller than I already am.

“Fuck no you don’t,” he says, while pulling my back against him. “You can’t hide that shit from me anymore, sweetheart. Not now that I know the truth.” Brushing his lips across my ear he continues, “You’re not in this shit alone, Bentley. I have fucking loved you from the first time you called me an asshat.” Laughing against her skin, I continue my admission, “The day I fell in love though, that day I’ll never fucking forget. It was the first time you gave your body to me, and I’ll never fucking forget it because listening to you confess the shit that bitch did to steal your innocence broke me into fucking pieces. It was in that moment it hit me, I would never be able to stand you being with someone else. I wanted to claim you for my own. Not just your body, Bentley, I wanted your heart, and I’m telling you now, I’ll go through hell and fucking back to keep it.”

The way he says the words, so serious like they are simply fact and nothing will change them is terrifying yet comforting at the same time.

3 weeks later

Tristan

I’m going fucking nuts marking days off of my calendar until this bitch is locked away. So to kill the time I start some investigating of my own. I don’t find out a whole hell of a lot with Ele and Bentley on my case to go back to work. It takes Cage a bit longer to get the info on the asshole harassing Bentley’s phone. Two weeks fucking longer. A judge found Darla in contempt after the dude admitted he was hired to send harassing messages and he received calls every few days with new things to torment her with. He even switched the burner phone every few days so she couldn’t block the number. That’s how Cage eventually found him. The fucking moron always bought the phone at the same convenience store.

The lack of information on this bitch has me losing my fucking mind. It’s like she didn’t exist before she got knocked up. I’m trying to keep my research on the up and up, not wanting to go to extreme measures. Cage has offered a few times to have her looked into. There’s no personal information on her at Bentley’s. I searched the whole fucking place. I figure something had to make this bitch as twisted as she is, so I stop by Dante’s to see if he knows anything, since I can’t ask Bentley.

He’s standing on his porch as I walk up, yelling into his phone. Looking up to see me stand here, he quickly puts an end to it then greets me. “What’s up, Tristan? Is everything okay with Bentley? Did something else happen?”

I can see the concern pulled tightly across his face, so I put a quick stop to his train of thought. “Bentley’s fine, man, I just wanted to talk to you about something I know she isn’t comfortable talking about. Everything okay with you, though?” He gives me a funny look before catching on to what I’m talking about, and then lets out a laugh.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Billy just needs to pull that butt plug out of his ass every now and again. I swear he’s going for a new record for being a pain in the ass.” I laugh because it’s probably true. I’ve met Dante’s fuck buddy a couple times and the man is more than a pain in the ass. “So what’s up? What’s on your mind you don’t want to talk to Bentley about?” he asks.

“I wanted to know if there was anything you could tell me about Darla? I tried Googling her but nothing came up, and without prying into personal records I can’t find much. I have someone looking into her but I just wondered if there was anything you could tell me,” I say, knowing it’s likely a lost cause. Yet much to my surprise, Dante knows quite a bit.

“Well Google isn’t going to be able to tell you shit. She changed her name a couple times. I know her birth name is Moira but she thought Darla was a better stage name. She was a small time actress who had a promising start until she tried to get knocked up by some movie director. She was sleeping with another guy too, Grant Celeste, when she got pregnant. She told him the director came onto her, and being a love sick moron, she convinced him to marry her. Since she tried to blackmail the director, telling everyone the baby was his, he had her blacklisted. She figured once the baby was born she’d go right back to acting.

“I know she had a breakdown when she found out she was having twins. She even asked the doctor to kill one of them. I guess he refused to for medical reasons. Once the girls were born she tried to go back to work, but no one would hire her. Her dreams of being famous went down the drain. Within a few years, she completely lost it and blamed it all on Bentley. She said she was only meant to have one child, her beautiful daughter, Cora. Bentley became the bane of her existence and she made sure she knew it.”

I was fucking shocked he knew so much. Turns out his parents used to be close to the Celestes. That was before Grant became a lush. I learn a few other small details also, like Grant had started cheating when the girls were young. By the time Bentley was eight, he didn’t even sleep with his wife anymore. While all of this information paints a clearer picture, it doesn’t explain why she blames Bentley, nor does it make leaving Bentley on her own to go to the hearing next month any easier.

1 Month Later

I should be at home right now. Instead, I’m on a plane heading to bum fucked Egypt to attend a signing with Ele. I know she wouldn’t have asked me to come if she didn’t think it would be okay for me to leave, but I don’t like leaving Bentley alone. I have Dante watching over her, but it doesn’t stop every fucked up scenario from running through my head. The way I see it, Darla Celeste is running out of time. If she’s going to make a move, she’s going to do it soon, especially with the formal charges being brought against her this week. It’s fucking eating at me that I won’t be in that courtroom with Bentley when they arrest the bitch.

Something just isn’t sitting right with me. Call it intuition. I think the bitch is desperate, and I think she’s going to pull some shit, so why the fuck am I sitting on a plane instead of at home with Bentley? It’s because she and Ele insisted it would be good for me to reach out to my fan base again. It’s asinine, I know, but the fact Bentley is worried I’ll disappear from her book world is laughable. The fact she still thinks that shit matters is funny, but since she asked me to go, here I am sitting on a goddamn plane.

After landing in the middle of Kentucky, I pull my phone out and try to call her. I know it’s late, but I want her voice to be the last thing I hear tonight. Instead, I get the generic message of her voicemail. I try again two more times, feeling sick not knowing if everything is ok. She still doesn’t answer, so I try Dante. After a few rings he answers with a groggy voice. Looking over at the clock, I realize it’s after 1:00 a.m. and I feel like an asshole. After being assured Bentley is more than likely sleeping, I hang up.

Getting ahold of Bentley in the morning is a relief. Hearing her voice just calms something inside of me, like a storm edging closer to the shore ready to unleash its rage. I have a lot of rage these days. Aggie taught me at a young age that violence was only ever to be used as a last resort. Thing is, I doubt sweet old Aggie ever met anyone quite like Darla. That bitch is so corrosive she could peel the paint off of a semi just by staring at it. I seriously think she could be Medusa reincarnated. I’m pretty damn sure my balls tried to shrivel up and turn to stone the night she eye fucked me in Ele’s hotel room. How on earth that woman was able to create someone as beautiful as Bentley is a fucking mystery.

The rest of the night goes off without any hitches. I try to have a good time as Ele and I mingle with fans, taking pictures and signing autographs. By the end of the night, though, I’m in desperate need of a shower. I can actually make out the fingerprints running across my skin. Stepping into the shower, I have an immediate longing for Bentley. I can’t even remember the last time I showered alone. Hell, I don’t even want to. Granted, most of the time she ended up dirtier than she was to begin with, but that made it all the more fun to wash her back down.

Before heading to bed that night I send her a quick text,

“
Love you, baby, good luck tomorrow!”
The response is almost instantaneous.

“Love you too, Tryst! Talk to you tomorrow <3”

I fall asleep hanging onto her words, and laughing to myself as I recall the day I sat in her hotel room egging her on. I was a cocky fucker when I told her to get use to calling me that, but I made good on it and there has never been a sweeter sound than that of Bentley screaming out my name.