Reaching the door to the attic, I pull it open and traipse up, my whole body aching.
I reach the shitty little room, faint patches of light illuminating the mattress.
And I curl up, my breathing coming faster and faster as I bite down savagely on my lip until I taste the iron tang of blood.
But I don’t cry.
No more tears. Not for them.
28
TRISTAN
Soft footsteps pad away from us as my Soul Bonded walks away, her walk stilted and her head held high.
I switch my gaze to Alicia, anger a fist closing around my throat, closing off my breathing as a door closes softly.
I snarl, squaring up to her. “What the fuck was that?”
She glances down, fiddling with her nails. “She was wearing something that belonged to me.”
“My clothes don’t belong to you,” Jax grits out. “And neither do I.”
Alicia gasps as my hand shoots out, curling around her throat. Bending down, I growl in her face.
“You broke the agreement, Alicia. I told you not to hurt her.”
“Please,” she scoffs. “I barely touched her.”
But her eyes are wide, glancing frantically between me and Jax. Our anger swells in the hallway, so potent that even Alicia, as a beta, can pick up on it.
“You hurt her,” I rumble. My hand tightens around her neck, and she squeaks. Jax places a hand on my shoulder, but I shake it off.
“Tris,” Jax murmurs in my ear. “You need to calm down.”
My whole body shakes. I’m so fucking done with all of this. What’s the fucking point?
Releasing Alicia, I take a step back as she braces herself against the wall, hands rubbing frantically at her throat.
“I’m done,” I say in a low voice. “You hear me? This shit is over with, Alicia.”
She straightens, keeping out of reach.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tristan. You can’t just end this. My father will—,”
“I don’t care,” I growl. “You hear me? I’m done with this shit. Your father can do what he wants. I’ll deal with it.”
“Tristan,” Jax’s voice is low behind me. “I get it, but we need to think about this. It’s not just about your dad.”
My eyes squeeze shut. Fuck, but I hate that he’s right. Breathing heavily, I turn away before swinging back to jab a finger towards Alicia. She shrinks back.
“Don’t fucking touch her ever again,” I growl. “Don’t go near her, don’t speak to her, don’t touch a hair on her goddamned head. Do you understand?”
Without waiting for an answer, I take the steps two at a time, heading for my office and pouring a giant glass of scotch. Jax stalks in a few minutes later, his face pale.
“I knocked on her door,” he says. “No answer.”
“Are you surprised?” I say wearily. “She doesn’t want to see us. And I don’t blame her.”
