"Okay," Tristan rasped. "That's good."
Now that he was a bit more aware, Tristan heard the shuffling of feet and the hum of voices around him. Someone was shouting, maybe Pearface, and someone else told him to shut up. Taylor came over to tell Cade, "We swept the house. It's clear."
As Tristan's awareness of his surroundings returned, his brain jolted back into gear.
"Natalie! Is she okay? Where is she?" he asked, panic-stricken.
Grabbing his hand gently, Cade assured him, "She's fine. She's at Hamm's with Annabeth. Don't worry, we took good care of her."
A lump clogged Tristan's throat as he realized she was safe, and he thanked the universe and all the gods. Now he needed to hear her voice, to convince himself she was really okay.
"I need to talk to her."
Cade fished his phone out of his pocket, punched a button, and said, "Yeah, plan worked perfectly. Tristan wants to talk to Natalie."
Tristan took the phone with trembling hands, and when he heard Natalie's voice, he bit back a cry of relief.
"Tris?"
"Nat, are you okay? Are you safe?"
"I'm okay. Are you? Is it over?"
"Yeah, it's over."
She tried to stifle her sobs, but he heard her weep softly, and his own tears flowed again. His heart ached for everything she'd been through, and he mourned the innocent girl she had been two weeks ago. But it was over, and they'd be safe and together. He promised himself he'd take care of her, pay more attention, make sure she knew how much he loved her.
He promised to do better than he had before.
With a rough voice, he assured her, "It's okay, Nat. We're both safe now."
"Okay. Okay," she answered, clearing her throat.
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Okay," she answered, her voice still raw. "See you soon. And Tris?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Love you too," he rasped, then handed the phone back to Cade. "Thank you."
"Of course. Let's get you inside."
When Cade lifted him into his arms, Tristan snuggled into the warmth. Being carried was a bit ridiculous, but he was still weak,and he had to admit, it was kind of nice to be pampered after the ordeal he'd experienced.
As Cade carried him to the house, they passed by a quiet huddle consisting of Tag, Rodriguez, Taylor and two other guys, while Pearface and Glasses sat tied to chairs, glaring murderously. Tristan felt perverse satisfaction at seeing his captors trussed up, just like they'd done to him.
Inside, Cade sat him down carefully on the oversized sofa and ran his hands over Tristan's body, checking for injuries and freezing when he reached his wrists. Tristan looked down to see the raw, red skin, then up to see the other man's eyes burning with rage.
"It's fine. It only hurts a bit. The numbness was the worst part."
Cade scowled fiercely as he began massaging each wrist in turn. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?"
Reaching up to feel his temple, Tristan gently assessed the bump on his head, finding it smaller than he imagined. "He knocked me out, maybe hit me with a gun. I think I might have a concussion."
Another wave of fury contorted Cade's face, but when he felt the injury himself, his fingers probed gently. "I'll get you something for the pain, and I want to have Taylor take a look. He was a medic in the army."
