Page 39 of Bear
I follow him down the long hallway in silence, then Warren steps directly in front of the security panel. “Sorry,” he whispers. “It’d be bad if you knew the code when you aren’t supposed to.”
I can’t deny that it hadn’t occurred to me to watch him, but that wasn’t my intent. “No worries. Maybe one day I’ll earn it.”
“Of course you will.” He winks, opening the door and gesturing with a flourish that I’m free to exit.
I haven’t been seated on the steps for more than five minutes when Tristan’s sleek, black Escalade edges up the driveway. My heart stumbles to a stop in my chest, my lungs squeezing hard.Fuck.Of all the mornings for me to ask to wait outside. There’s a slim chance I could have avoided Tristan if only I’d had the stomach to sit with Arik and eat my pancake… but I hadn’t. That guy looks at me like I’m doing him some sort of wrong by existing.
So, now because I’ve allowed that asshat to make me uncomfortable, I’ve put myself into this situation instead. What a stellar start to the day this is.
I set the remainder of my pancake and paper towel on the step and peer into the interior of the SUV, hoping on the off chance that my mother is in the passenger seat and can offer a buffer. No luck. He’s alone. My brow furrows. He could totally be here for Duke, not me, though I wouldn’t actually wish Tristan on anyone, come to think of it. Not even Duke. Especially not today. My teeth grind hard, wondering and worrying about the unknown of this surprise visit.
Tristan parks, leisurely exiting his vehicle, as if he knows damn well I’ll sit here, frozen to the spot waiting on him. As usual, my heart rate spikes, despite the fact I tell myself to play it cool. The jerk probably knows he gives me anxiety. Some teenagers hide away in their rooms to play video games or read or video chat with their friends. That was never the case for me, though I spent every moment possible tucked away in the room he’d appointed for me in his home, never leaving unless it was required of me. That place was never my home, no matter that I lived there for three years. He never made me feel welcome, much less wanted.
If I hadn’t hidden myself away, Tristan probably would have found a way to break my spirit. It’s so entirely fucking weird that he’s always treated me like crap. He’s the one who decided to marry my mother. He knew what she was like and where we came from—granted, maybe not at first—but they supposedly fell in love, so it didn’t matter. Does he regret marrying her, and thereby getting saddled with me? Sure as hell seems like it.
What I do know is that since the day they were married and he officially became my stepfather, he’s always been ready with a tongue-lashing. I’m the à la carte daughter he wasn’t expecting to come with the enticing meal that is my mother. He didn’t want or need another kid. He has an heir to his fortune already, someone to take over all the businesses that he runs and real estate he owns. I serve no purpose but to make him look like a doting stepfather.
With a sigh, I press my lips together, noting that he’s as sharply dressed as ever, beard immaculately groomed, and hair combed into place like he prefers it. Frankly, my time here at Bainbridge Hall has been a nice break from him, so to have him appear like this is a tiny bit unnerving.
“Lennon.” His voice is gruff. Cold. It sends a shiver through me, which is an odd sensation in the early morning heat.
Refusing to look at him another second, I stare down at my hands and bite out, “Tristan.”
“Get up.” His tone is an irritated snap. “We need to talk, don’t you think?”
My heart wedges in my throat at the same time my palms begin to sweat. My gaze roams his face, traveling over the tightness of his jaw before I flick my eyes to his. “I don’t know what about but go right ahead. I have a few minutes before we leave for class.”
His unamused eyes roam lethally over me. Like I have most days, I chose to wear a tank top and shorts, and a pair of flip-flops on my feet.
Shit.Is he going to mention the bruises? They’re sort of a purplish color now, beginning to fade, but still visible.
I could swear he notices, but he doesn’t say a damn word about them. From the way he’s stalking toward me, I’d say he’s here for a specific reason, and he’s not going to be distracted from it. Hell, maybe he thinks I deserved the bruises and doesn’t fucking care either way.
“Are you leaving the house at night on purpose to cause trouble? As if the sleepwalking and middle-of-the-night panic attacks aren’t enough,” he grits out, his eyes flashing angrily. He stops with only a few inches between us, staring down at me. His proximity is meant to intimidate. I can’t let him know it’s freaking working.
My brows pinch together. “No. Why would you think that? You know I have sleep difficulties.” That’s how I like to think of them, rather than labeling myself with some disorder or other medical term. I kinda hate him for implying that I have any control over it. I glare up at him. “You really don’t like me being here, where you put me, I can still attend the local community college. No problem,” I snap.
He chuckles darkly. “No. You can’t. It’s this or nothing.”
Confusion crashes through me as I stare into blue eyes that hold an awful contempt for me. I can’t help but want to verbally spar with him. “Why is nothing else suitable? Because the great Tristan Valentine can’t have it known that his stepdaughter is attending an inferior college—one that’snotthe esteemed Kingston University?”
“No.” An amused spark lights his eyes. “You’re simply no longer on their freshman admissions roster. I saw to it.”
A roaring begins in my head at his words, and my stomach twists into knots. Surely, he didn’t. “What?” My backup plan.Gone? Motherfucker!
But I don’t even have time to digest that information because he ignores my question, instead cocking his head to the side. “I find it very interesting that I sent you here to see if a fresh start will help, that I’ve provided you with the best room and board available at KU and the education you could have only dreamed of before this—but you couldn’t help yourself. You’ve continued to cause problems at every turn. Setting off alarms, wrapping my son and his friends around your dirty little finger, acting spiteful and rude to Bainbridge alum.”
Derek Pierce? Is that who he’s referring to? What is he talking about? At the football game? I wasn’t rude to him. He was coming onto me in that sly way he has while we were watching the game, and I left. Period. Or… is my dickhead stepfather talking about himself? My jaw locks and I glare. “What do you mean?”
He ignores my question. Completely ignores it. “Not only that, but you’ve got my sonlyingfor you.” With the speed of a striking snake, his hand darts out and grips me at the juncture of my shoulder and neck. I try to wrench my body away from him but can’t free myself from his hold.
“Stop, you’re hurting me,” I cry out as his fingers bite into the delicate skin of my neck and shoulder, and he grips my upper arm with his other hand, dragging me close and shaking me as he gets right in my face.
Spittle flies as he growls out, “You’ll behave yourself while you’re here. You fucking keep to yourself and don’t cause problems. If you can’t handle that, I’ll pull you out of here and lock you away.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes as shock reverberates through me to my core. “What are you talking about?”
His hold on me tightens so much that I can feel the tips of his fingernails digging viciously into my skin. He shakes me again, breathing hard in my face like a goddamn dragon or something. As he opens his mouth to come at me again, I close my eyes, unwilling to allow him to see the fear rising within me. Because yes, he’s fucking scaring me.
