Page 83 of Beloved Sacrifice

Weston gritted his teeth. “If you yank my passport, I can’t leave.”

“If it comes to that, we’ll rendition you to an outside facility.”

“Rendition? For fuck’s sake, Tristan!”

“I don’t want that, Wes. But you crossed a line, and I have no choice.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about the guns, but—”

“It’s not just the guns. If I’m not mistaken, you were holding Marek Lee prisoner.”

Weston absorbed that, then said, “He told us about his grandparents. They’re members.”

“I doubt he told you that his grandmother is, even now, an incredibly dangerous, powerful woman. She’s the one who alerted us to the situation.”

“He came to take Rose back to the Trinity Masters. That would be a death sentence.”

“How did Rose get here?”

Weston grimaced. “I, uh, evacuated her from Boston.”

“Evacuated?”

“Tristan, you know…you know more about my past than anyone.” Weston sighed. “I’m going to tell you everything.”

Tristan laid his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “As your friend, I want you to tell me. But you have to know it doesn’t change anything.”

“Damn it, Tristian, I need—”

“I’m sorry, Wes. You have two days, and then the Admiralty will revoke your sanctuary.”

“What about you? You said I had twelve hours to convince you.”

“My superior wanted to revoke sanctuary after twelve hours. I got her to compromise. I bought you some extra days. That was the best I could do.”

Weston pushed away his half-eaten bowl of cereal. His appetite was gone. “Thanks.”

Weston’s mind whirled. Two days. He had only a little over two days. Time wasn’t on his side, and hadn’t been from the moment he’d dropped everything to chase after Rose. The urge to slug Tristan, grab the car keys, and head for Dorset was pressing down on him. His bloodstream was tainted with adrenaline in response to the shot clock.

Be smart. Tell Tristan what’s going on.

“You’ve been my friend, a good friend, for a long time,” Weston said.

Tristan looked down at his tea. “I’m still your friend, Wes, but duty comes first.”

For Tristan Knight, duty was everything, and Weston knew that.

Weston took a moment to figure out what to say before speaking. “My brother is dead.”

That made Tristan look up. “When? How?”

Weston quickly told the other man about what he knew, finishing with, “And I was…I was wrong about a lot of things.”

“What things?”

“Rose and Caden, they weren’t…they weren’t together because they loved each other. She didn’t love him.” Weston’s throat tightened. “She’s been living in hell for twelve damn years while I sat around in my nice little cottage acting like a noble dick.”

Tristan took a sip of tea and stared innocently at the wall. “I.”

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