His life had never been fair, and he held no delusions that it would ever be.
Chapter 14: Escape
Tristan
Just before noon the next day, the urgent need to pee roused Tristan from a heavy sleep. Groggy and sluggish, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood, groaning like an eighty-year-old man as he clocked the muscle stiffness and dull aches all over his body.
Smiling as he remembered what caused those aches, he shuffled to the bathroom. As he washed his hands at the sink, his reflection in the mirror momentarily stunned him, driving away any remnants of sleep.
At least a dozen red, angry blotches, bluish finger-shaped bruises, and conspicuous teeth imprints littered the skin of his neck and shoulders. Fascinated, he tilted his head to inspect them more closely, then gazed down to see at least ten more branding his chest, stomach and thighs.
As he traced a finger lightly over the discolored patches of skin, it occurred to him that he should feel embarrassed or ashamed, but instead, a sense of smug satisfaction and a strange pride rose in his chest at what the marks represented.
That Cade had wanted him.
Yesterday's sex — the marking, edging, and most of all the domination — had undoubtedly been the most exciting and fulfilling sexual encounter of his life. He hadn't known he'd like it so much, but now that he'd had a taste, he knew he wanted to do it again and again.
The way Cade had treated him, used him, looked at him with blazing lust in his eyes, made him feel desirable and special in a way he'd never felt before, and it made him eager to do or be whatever the other man wanted, just so he could have more.
Cade had said he liked it too, and even if he had reservations over getting involved with a protectee, that hadn't seemed all that important last night when he jerked them both off with something resembling desperation. That one-eighty had been confusing, but Tristan had been too hungry for his touch to complain.
So yeah, if Cade wanted to do that again — or, you know, really anything involving orgasms — in the short time they had left, he'd take whatever he could get.
He didn't want to live cautiously anymore, not since his mom died, too young, too soon. In her final weeks, she had expressed regrets, encouraged him and Natalie to seize opportunities when they came, warned them that tomorrow wasn't guaranteed.
Of course, she probably hadn't been talking about getting held down and fucked within an inch of his life, but he figured the general idea still applied.
The more complicated topic was his growing emotional attachment to Cade, especially after last night when he had opened up. Tristan had felt the pull then, a trust developing between them, something deeper than physical attraction, and now he couldn't help but wonder if the affection was mutual.
He felt like an idiot for slamming the door on yesterday's conversation before it even started. Maybe then he could have gotten the answers he wanted, but now, even though Cade had revealed a peek at his past, Tristan couldn’t be sure if the other man had reached his sharing limit.
Cracking through his housemate's defenses would take time. Time they didn't have. They could find Natalie any day now, maybeeven today —please let it be today— and then when they eliminated the people looking for him, this thing with Cade, whatever it was, would be over.
Unless he did something, said something.
Today, he promised himself, he'd ask.
Tristan sensed the awkwardness between them as soon as he entered the kitchen. Cade seemed aloof, his body language stiff and tense, his responses briefer and more clipped than usual, and Tristan wondered if he was embarrassed by his late-night revelations.
Tristan's own nervousness about broaching the subject of 'feelings' left him hesitant and self-conscious as well, which made the lunch conversation strained. When they sat down to play backgammon, he seemed unable to hound and tease his opponent the way he usually did, and he didn't ask any personal questions as he tried to work up the courage to ask how Cade felt about him.
Overall, everything just seemed off.
When Cade's phone buzzed late in the afternoon, he wasn't sure if the interruption relieved or annoyed him.
"Hey, Annabeth. You're on speaker."
"Hi, Tristan," Annabeth's voice spilled from the phone without her usual enthusiasm.
Something about her tone had his skin prickling, and he cautiously asked, "Hi, Annabeth. Did you find anything?"
"Yes, actually. I cracked the encryption on the laptop."
He and Cade shared a hopeful look, and he leaned toward the phone. "What did you find?"
"Well, I confirmed they are keeping the girls at ten sites."
Tristan sucked in a sharp breath. "That's a lot of girls."
