Page 97 of Lorcan's Obsession

"It's…it’s late though."

"He has a special ringtone for me. He’ll pick up."

“He has a what?”

“Jesus, Lorcan, relax.” Tristen stared at me as she dialed, daring me to admit my insecurity. "You can stay here for the call if you like. I'll have him on speak—"

"Habibti." A wickedly smooth baritone echoed across the room.

“Hey Fay,” Tristen began, “I’ve got some legal strategies to run by you.”

She explained the updated situation. While they conferred, I unlocked my phone post-haste.

Google "habibti.’"

English translation: my love.

That was a poisonous arrow plunged straight into my chest. And knowing that they could talk at any time of night pulled the arrowhead all the way through my spine. I turned to the other side of the room, unwilling to show Tristen how bothered I was.

“Thanks for doing strategy recon with me, Fay.”

"Of course, habibti. But are you all right? You sound low today. What happened?"

"I'll be fine."

"But you are not. I can hear it!" Fayed gritted. "What did he do?"

I hid my fist behind my back so she wouldn’t see it clenching. Of all the days, I didn’t need him trying to come between us today and stealing her from me. But the fact that this man knew her so well set me on edge more than I would have dared to admit.

"It’s nothing I can't handle, Fay."

"So you admit he did something. That bastard. Tristen, tell me—"

"Fayed!" she cried, switching to rapid Arabic.

They continued in his native tongue for some time before switching back to English. In those minutes, my soul died and rose again with enough rage to punch this interloper right through the skull.

"Listen to me, Tristen!” Fayed roared. “If he does anything to hurt you in any way, he will fucking answer to me!"

That was the last straw. I yanked the phone from Tristen, ready to tell him to fuck off. Her eyes widened with rage, and she wrestled the phone back from me.

“No!” Tristen mouthed furiously. As soon as the phone was in her grasp, she turned it off speaker. At that moment, I considered throwing the phone to the floor and stomping on it until it shattered. But that would be reckless and childish would mangle our delicate balance completely.

Filled with impotent fury, I stormed out of our study and into my bedroom. The silk scarves hung limply from the bedposts, reminding me how badly this night had gone. I kicked my crumpled shirt across the carpet as I gathered my gym gear. Punching weights was the only safe outlet at my disposal tonight.

But I wasn’t ready for the knockout punch when I returned to the living room.

Tristen stood by the front door, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

"Y-you are leaving?" I rasped.

She nodded.

Was she going to him? What if he convinced her to stay with him after I left? The thought that Tristen was upset enough to go to him hurt me on a physical level.

"Stay the night, please."

I couldn't meet her gaze. My arms hung helplessly by my side.

---