Page 30 of Beautiful Sinners

Great. We’re back at riddles.

“Give what up?” I ask, but I’m pretty sure I know what he’s implying.

I don’t want to lead the Council. I never did. But that’s not going to stop me from using it to find who murdered my parents and hunt down the man who left me with horrific scars.

Evan sits up straighter when Tristan suddenly walks into the small, partitioned room, amping up the tension with his larger-than-life presence. He has purple crescents of fatigue under his eyes, and his hair is sticking up in all directions as if he’s been constantly running his fingers through it. He looks tired, yet still so damn gorgeous.

“Hey,” I say, happy to see him.

Tristan makes his way over to me, a dark scowl marring his face when he notices Evan. I tilt my head back on the chair to look up at an upside-down Tristan.

“You good?” He bends over and softly kisses me.

“Better now,” I reply with a smile, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek.

Evan breaks the moment with, “I’ve got to ask. I get that all of you knew each other as kids, but when did—”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” Tristan tells him.

Evan replies with all seriousness, “It will be if you hurt her.”

I slide my hand to cover Tristan’s mouth before he has a chance to retort with something I’m sure will be offensive.

“Would using my school account be okay to send a message to Raquelle?”

Evan taps the space bar on the laptop, and the home screen lights up. “The connection is secure. No one can trace it or find your location,” he assures me.

I suddenly realized something. “I want someone on her, watching over her. I need to know she’s safe. Can you or Cillian make that happen?”

“I’ll handle it,” Tristan butts in.

“It’s already been taken care of,” Evan replies, and the pressure that had been crushing my chest releases in a whoosh.

Not able to express the sheer gratitude I’m feeling, I say a simple, “Thanks, Evan.”

“No problem. I’ll give you some privacy. Just holler if you need help,” he says as he leaves.

Tristan watches him go, then hops up on the table. “I don’t trust him.”

He may not, but I do.

“The feeling appears to be mutual.”

Tristan gently closes the laptop just as I swipe the touchpad and move the cursor. “I wouldn’t risk directly contacting Raquelle. I’m pretty sure Aleksander will have eyes on her.”

He’s probably right.

“I just want to let her know I’m okay and won’t be coming back today.”

He scoots across the table a few inches to the left until he can bracket my chair with his legs. He pats his thigh, and I immediately climb up onto his lap, bracing my knees on the table to straddle him. One of his hands goes around me to support my lower lumbar so I don’t slip off, while the other sinks into my hair at the nape of my neck.

“We need to stay out of sight for a while until we figure out our next move. Aleksander is smart. We need to be smarter.”

Being told to hide and give up my dreams is unacceptable. It’s my life, and it should be my choice with how to live it. A choice that has been continuously taken from me by other people’s agendas. I will never give another person that kind of power over me again. Not even the guys with their best intentions.

“After we see Alana, I’m going back to Darlington, with or without you, but I’d prefer with you.”

Tristan’s grasp is punishing when he tugs my hair by the roots. At any other time, I would get turned on by his show of dominance.

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