Page 82 of The Contract

“And Capelli killed him.”

“Yes.”

Tristan stares at his untouched mug of tea. He’s not scowling this time. He’s worn out. Empty. Emotionless.

Noah, of course, sees it too. He’s seen it a hundred times. He gets up and goes into the kitchen. He gets out a bottle of pills. He shakes two into his hand then pushes them across the counter to Tristan.

“Take that.”

“What is it?”

“It’ll help you sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“You need to,” Noah tells him. “We can talk more in the morning if you want. But right now, you need to take that. Then I’ll show you the spare room.”

Tristan looks over his shoulder at me for the first time. Is he hoping I’ll leave? Hoping I’ll … stay?

He looks so fucking confused he probably doesn’t even know. Since I’m not sure, I only say, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He takes a shuddering breath. I want to go to him. I want to put my arms around him. But Iwillprotect him. Even from myself. I have enough control now to understand what that means, what it might require.

I think Noah realizes it too, or at least knows what I’m thinking, because he’s watching me from the corner of his eye.

Tristan takes the pills. He lets Noah lead him down the hallway to the bedroom, though he looks over his shoulder at me as he goes. I don’t think I physically move, but I feel a wave in my body, like I’m rocking toward him.

Noah comes back.

“What Rafael’s status?” he asks as he starts dumping out the mugs of tea.

“He’s getting patched up by the doc.”

“You should see Anya too. You should’ve seen her a few times over the last few weeks.”

Anya is an old friend of Noah’s, a doctor with a small community clinic who helps out with our shit on the side. But I don’t like being touched, not as a general rule, not without a contract to put me in control of it.

“I’m okay,” I say.

“Are you?” Noah asks, his tone making the question mean something else.

I can’t muster a lie, so I don’t say anything at all.

Noah knows better than to push, so instead he asks, “Fiero?”

“In the warehouse. Secure. I need to deal with him.”

“You need to sleep.”

“I’ll try to sleep at the warehouse.”

“Stay here.”

“I can’t. I won’t be able to leave him alone.”

“Dante—”

I push away from the wall. “I have to go.”

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