Page 43 of The Girl and the Cobra

What makes it so easy? What makes it so perfect? Beyond the fact that our pasts have tried to suck the life out of us, deep down we both always wanted more. Tristan needs someone to hold onto, and I… I need someone to hold onto me, to ground me to reality, to keep me sane.

If this is anything close to the movies, then I get it. I totally get why people turn into fools for love.

Chapter Eighteen – Tristan

The only times I’m not with Mabel are when she’s sleeping or in the bathroom. Any other time? I’m with her. We eat together. We watch TV together. We spend every waking moment together… until the night her father comes. Mabel doesn’t ask me to steer clear, but I don’t want to push her into sharing anything she’s not ready for with him.

While Mabel and her father share some Chinese food in the dining room, Wolf finds me on the large sectional in the great room, where Mabel and I often are these days, watching TV.

It’s strange. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been forever—and everything has changed. Wolf’s presence nearby doesn’t immediately piss me off; that’s how at peace I feel, and it’s all thanks to Mabel.

Wolf sits on the section of the couch that juts out in an L-shape, his green eyes heavy on me. I don’t look at him right away, but when I do, I can’t help but say, “What?” Okay, so I still sound snippy, but that’s only because I hate the man for keeping me locked here like an animal.

Can’t blame him, but I can still hate him.

“You and Mabel have gotten close,” Wolf remarks. “I’d really love to have a session with you both.”

I want to say that sounds like torture, but it would mean more time spent with Mabel, and that could never be a bad thing, even if that extra time will be with Wolf as a third wheel. Still, I have to ask, “Why?”

“I want to see how you two interact. There hasn’t been any… attempts on either side lately.”

My brows crease. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Wolf smirks, though it’s a dead-eyed smirk that fails to do anything for me except piss me off. “Of course it’s a good thing.In all honesty, I was prepared to, let’s just say, dig at least one grave. You and Mabel seem to click a lot easier than I anticipated—again, why I would love to have you both in my office.”

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

The smirk falls off Wolf’s face as he says, “No, you don’t. Glad we can see eye-to-eye.” He stands, straightens his suit, and starts to walk away as he adds, “I’ll see you both tomorrow at ten sharp. Don’t be late.”

Wolf leaves me prickly, as always. Talking to that guy really pisses me off. I need Mabel to finish up with her father so I can hold her, so her presence can push away all negative thoughts in my head. When I’m with her, it’s impossible to be sour, impossible to be filled with self-loathing—my typical mood as of late.

But Mabel really does make me feel better. It’s the strangest thing. I never would’ve dreamed of anything like this. Life doesn’t even feel real anymore; it’s all one big daydream, like I blinked and got lost in an alternate reality where I found someone who accepts me for me.

All of me, too. Not just parts of me. Mabel accepts me, the good and the bad—and let’s be real: there’s a lot more bad than good where I’m concerned.

Seriously, so much bad. So much bad I never thought anyone could see the good. What I’ve done… it’s unforgivable. I killed my parents, my family’s butler, almost an entire family on the Black Hand, and so many more. The blood on my hands runs deep, and none of it can ever truly be washed away.

I can’t say how long it is before Mabel joins me on the couch, but when she does, she plops herself down directly beside me and cuddles into me. I respond by lifting my arm and draping it over her shoulder.

“How was your dad?” I ask.

“Fine. He actually got invited to go out for drinks with some people he works with. I told him he should go.” Mabel heaves a soft sigh against my side. “I want him to have friends. Now that Mom’s gone and I’m here, he doesn’t have anyone.”

Mabel really is too sweet. The opposite of what I thought I wanted. But, then again, look at where I ended up. Obviously what I wanted in the past didn’t work out for multiple reasons. Here, with Mabel, I am simply Tristan, not the Cobra.

I lean my cheek against the top of her head. “Got any hot plans for tomorrow?”

She chuckles softly. “As a matter of fact, I don’t. Why?”

“Wolf wants to have us both in for a session,” I tell her. “Together.”

That makes her pull off of me, and my first instinct is to grab her hand and stop her from getting up—but she doesn’t get up. She just sits straight and stares at me, pensive. “Why?” Her small hand fits snugly inside mine, so soft.

“I think he wants to see us together.” Which is asinine in more ways than one. Wolf knows everything that goes on in this house; he’s got cameras everywhere. I’m sure he’s been watching us together this whole damn time. “Observe us. Ask us questions.”

“Hmm. Wonder why.” She sighs as she returns to the crook of my arm, her body curling into mine.

Mabel doesn’t know the depths of Wolf’s psychopathy, so I don’t tell her that he’s the type of monster who needs to be in control at all times, someone who likes being the puppeteer and probably gets off on it. I settle for saying, “He probably wants to make sure I’m not… too much for you.”

---