Page 58 of Twisted Little Games
“I enjoy what I do, even if the hours are long. And I’m going back to work tomorrow. It’s probably for the best, you know, to avoid raising any suspicion about the missing detective if someone saw him in or near my building.”
“Fine. But I’ll be outside the whole time if you need me.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do for Creed than babysitting me from afar.”
“Not until Bowen is taken care of. And while I wish I could go do it right now myself, I know Creed is right. It has to be done carefully to avoid causing problems.”
“Right,” I remark. “You don’t have to give me any details. It’s probably best if I don’t know.”
“Agreed.”
“What I would like to know right now is if your apartment will be empty when we get back?”
“Absolutely. I would’ve thrown them out last night if I knew how upset you would get,” Tristan grumbles.
“No, you wouldn’t have. But I appreciate you finding them alternative housing arrangements for tonight. You’re paying their rent wherever they are, aren’t you?”
He winces and tightens his grip on my hand. “Not because I want them.”
“I know. I get it.”
While the two of us may come from opposite worlds, we do have some things in common.
Both of us feel the need to help those who have been victimized by assholes. We just do it in very different ways. I’m stuck using the law and waiting on the wheels of justice to slowly turn, while Tristan prefers to roll up his sleeves and push the wheels all on his own.
I may not always approve of him using violence, but I must admit that he gets results a hell of a lot faster.
23
Tristan
Kirsten was up early the next morning, determined to go to work after one day off. I tagged along, looking forward to the moment she’d get off work and return to my apartment so I could ravage her.
But after several days of having to wait hours for her in my cold truck, I’ve grown impatient.
No decision on dealing with Bowen has been made yet, which means I’d much rather be in the same room as Kirsten, than so far away. Speaking to someone in the police department would be helpful to us too.
I dress up in a nice suit and head into the courthouse to see her, planning on killing two birds with one stone.
I enjoy getting a glimpse into her world. It’s hot seeing her boss people around. I like watching her in her element, even though I plan on interrupting.
After giving Natalie her instructions, it only takes about two seconds of me standing in the DA’s doorway before she looks up from her laptop.
“Tristan? What are you doing in here?” Kirsten slams her device closed then rushes over. Grabbing my arm, she pulls me into her office, then slams the door shut behind me and locks it, which I’ll be undoing shortly.
In answer to her question, I hold up aclinkingpair of metal handcuffs and then unlock the door while she’s distracted by the sight of them.
“You shouldn’t be here. Can’t this wait until tonight?” she asks, practically pleading with me to leave. I hate how uptight she still is about being seen with me. I understand, but it pisses me off.
Pushing down those feelings, I tell her, “I thought I could finally fulfil your fantasy, here, in the office. You know, bending you over the desk with your hands restrained. Don’t worry. I’ll cover your mouth so nobody will hear you scream my name.”
“Tristan —”
“Oh, this is happening, sweetheart. Right here. Right now.” I grab her neck, walk her behind her desk, push her chair out of the way, and pause, noticing the wilting flowers from the corner of my eye. Letting her go, I reach and take a dry orange petal between my fingers.
She kept them. Sure, they desperately need some water, but she didn’t throw them away. I didn’t ask her because I was afraid to know. Why I give a shit that she didn’t instantly trash them when she was pissed and didn’t trust me, I’m not sure. Just part of my evolution into being a whipped pussy, I guess.
“They didn’t get watered over the weekend. I’m surprised they lasted this long,” Kirsten remarks when she notices my attention on the vase of flowers. “They represent stupid hate?”
