Even though she doesn’t look at me, my words clearlyreach her. The smile that slowly spreads across her face is all the proof I need. Not many people get to see that smile—or be the reason for it—which tells me he means something to her.
“Stay with your guards,” she insists, seriousness temporarily darkening her stunning eyes.
Tristan watches me as I take an obvious step towards Nigel and Dale. Relief brightens her blue eyes, the colour returning as if a mass has lifted. As she races away, she shouts something back. The laughter that trails behind her pretty much gives away the gist of what she meant.
Then it’s my turn to keep watch. I’m not the least bit surprised by her audacity when she smacks the cage fighter. It’s typical Tris. He doesn’t seem fussed until she holds up an empty bottle. He changes in an instant as he obviously understands her message. I doubt anyone else in the world would.
She returns to my side with a smug look in her eyes, and together we watch him slowly but surely regain the upper hand in the cage. As he fights, Tris starts talking. His name is Maverick. They met on a modelling job. He’s stunning and smells better than okay. They’re complicated but what isn’t? She’ll tell me what’s going on when she’s ready.
My bestie’s eyes don’t stray an inch. Not even when the other guy starts fighting dirty. Her gaze stays locked on Maverick. She giggles under her breath whenever Maverick lands a punch or a kick. She doesn’t even lose her heart-eyes when sweat and blood sprays the crowd.
There’s a point near the end of the round when Maverick seems to falter—until the other fighter slips up, costing himself the match. I miss what exactly happens, though, because just as the crowd erupts in shouts and cheers, my phone buzzes with a text.
I expected it to be Brody. I was not prepared to read thetext from Dominic telling me to come home. So many emotions unleash as I reread his message.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I have to focus on slowing down the thunder pounding in my chest. It takes a while to lock out the energy of the crowd, to curtail the rush of jubilation as I sort through the implications of his simple message.
The link Dominic sends in his next message is further proof—a lodgement receipt providing a case number. This case number can never disappear. No matter who the founding families use to try to make it vanish, it will never happen. Dominic’s actions ensure my complaint will be permanently recorded in the government’s systems.
“Tris,” I whisper, grabbing her arm.
The fight has barely finished. Tristan’s excitement is infectious, and on any other day I’d probably latch on to it. But today my needs outweigh hers.
She’s jumping up and down, screaming like the rest of the audience.
“Tris, I have to go.” I barely speak, but she hears me.
Her celebration comes to a grinding stop, and she turns all her focus to me. “Sim, are you okay?”
I nod my head.
I’m not surprised by the flip of her switch. It’s how our friendship works.
Clearing my throat, I speak up louder, clearer. “I have to go.”
“Wow, okay.” She blinks back her surprise. “What do you need? Have you got enough money? Are you safe? Where are you going? I’ll come with you.”
I grab her face in my hands, studying her eyes, wondering how the fates blessed me with such a beautiful friend.
“Everything is fine. I need to go. Will you be okay?”
“Me? Oh my god, yes. You?”Please promise me you areokay. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. You know that right?
I hug her as tight as possible, breathing in her scent. Letting our embrace say the words stuck in my throat.I adore you so much. Thank you for always being so patient with me.
Pfft. You’re patient with me. I’m all over the place. If you weren’t my bestie, I don’t know how I’d do this.She squeezes back.
“Are you sure?” I ask once we finally stop hugging.
Tristan nods her head, smiling like I won the lottery. “If this is what you want to do, Simona, I’m never going to stand in your way.”
I leak happiness, so grateful. “I need to go for me more than anything.” Complete truth. “Plus, if I don’t go now, it will look like I’m full of fear, which I am not.” Still the honest truth, but I’m not sure if I’m talking to Tristan anymore or to myself. “I’m just tired of playing games.”
Tristan doesn’t push me for an explanation. She wraps me up in another of her bubble-gum scented cuddles and soaks me in her love, which is all the proof I need that she trusts me. “Ping me.”
I grimace, already knowing that within a few short hours, I’ll hopefully be busy being knotted for days and unable to speak. “I’ll probably just text you.”
“A lot then. Text me heaps, I mean.”
