“No, old boy. Alistair’s right. You have had enough,” Hugo replied. “I thought I could push you into letting go of whatever it is your are holding onto, but if we keep up like this I’ll end up a murderer.”
Tristan laughed bitterly at the word.Murderer.That’s what he thought he had been chasing, but now, after weeks of turning up nothing but nonsense, he felt like he was chasing a shadow. He shook his head at his own insanity. He had thought finding Perley would help take his mind off of Ophelia so he’d poured himself into it. Now, not only did he have a broken heart he had a broken mind; and he could not make sense of either.
Ophelia was not his. She had never been so. Yet when she’d left that last night. When she’d slammed that door between them…
He shook his head, trying to pull himself away from the thought and ache in his chest, and put his gloves up.
“Let us go again,” he insisted.
In response Hugo just silently pulled his gloves off, threw them on the ground, and walked out of the ring.
“Oh, come on!” Tristan yelled, watching Hugo walk off toward the rest of their friends.
“Everett?” Tristan called when Hugo only took a seat and began toweling the sweat from his naked chest.
Everett shook his head as he gave him a worried look.
“No, old boy. I think you have had enough.” He replied.
Tristan snickered as he leaned his arms heavily into the ropes.
“Dominic?”
“Have a rest,” Dominic insisted, nodding toward the empty chair beside him, “Talk with us. Then maybe.”
Tristan blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes. Then he looked for Alistair, and saw that he was already climbing into the ring. He forced a grin and pushed away from the ropes.
“Here we go,” he crowed, putting his gloves up, “Finally a taker.”
“I dinnae think so, old boy,” Alistair said, placing a hand on Tristan’s bare shoulder. “Come and sit down. Talk with us. Ye not yourself.”
Alistair’s eye then widened as he moved his hand over Tristan’s shoulder to his forehead.
“Jesus, man. No wonder ye acting strange. Ye have a fever!” Alistair exclaimed.
Annoyance ticked through Tristan’s tired muscles as he shoved Alistair’s hand away from his forehead.
“It is not a fever. I am just simply working up a sweat,” Tristan retorted, taking a step away from him as he pulled off his gloves. “Tell me, when did you all turn into dandies?!”
“Ye need to come sit down,now,”Alistair insisted, ignoring Tristan’s insult as he took a step toward him.
He reached out to grasp Tristan’s shoulder again, but as a sudden surge of his pent-up rage and hurt overtook him, Tristan grabbed Alistair’s arm and twisted it behind his back.
“I said I am fine!” He barked loudly near Alistair’s ear. “Why do none of you believe me!”
“Well, for starters,” Alistair grunted, trapped in Tristan’s hold, “Ye have a man trying to help ye trapped in an arm lock.”
Tristan bared his teeth as he held tight to Alistair, feeling himself losing more control by the second. Then suddenly several hands were upon him, forcing him back and prying his hands away from Alistair.
“Settle down, Tristan,” Dominic menacingly growled in Tristan’s ear.
“Or what?” He shouted, fighting against Dominic and Hugo’s hold as Everett helped Alistair stand.
“Or I’ll knock you out cold myself!” Dominic snarled back.
“Hold him,” Alistair demanded as he walked back up to Tristan.
Tristan thrashed as Alistair brought his face close to his own and he clapped his hands by Tristan’s ears and held his gaze.
