“I don’t want to be brave.” Our foreheads touched. “I just want to be in your arms.”
“Done.”
****
Tristan slept in the chair that night. Gabe had threatened to do the same, or worse yet, sleep on the floor, but I kicked him out. I needed time alone, time to breathe, time to be with Tristan.
I wasn’t sure why I was so calm. Maybe it was because everything was out in the open. When I closed my eyes, I still saw Taylor’s face. I still saw the blood. But instead of fear, it was just pity I felt. I felt sorry for him, sorry that he couldn’t live a normal life, sorry that he was sick, because everyone deserves a chance to live.
I truly believed, in that moment, that having a psychological illness was just as bad as being physically ill, maybe worse. When you’re physically ill, people can see what’s wrong; they can help you fix it. When something’s wrong inside the mind, all doctors can do is guess, and people can’t tell if you’re sick. They don’t believe you a lot of times, until they see the outward signs of your sickness. Maybe you’re walking aimlessly on the street talking to yourself, or you hurt someone you love. That type of sickness is harder to define, harder to fix, and scary, because in the end, the sickness is you.
That’s a tough pill to swallow. Knowing that what’s in your head might not be right — but not having any idea how to fix it.
My mind was going into overdrive, thinking about Taylor, what had led to his madness, what had led to his end.
Tristan stirred in the chair, and his head tilted back. I smiled at the sight. He was so beautiful. Moonlight lit up the side of his face, showing off his strong jaw, his perfect profile.
I was done.
Tired of waiting for life.
And I refused to be the type of person that held a grudge like Taylor had, the type of person that let madness consume me, or maybe even bitterness, revenge — they were all a type of poison, a type of sickness that if allowed in your body, would destroy you from the inside out.
“Tristan,” I whispered.
He jolted awake. “Are you in pain? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He moved to my bed, his hands caressing my face.
“I love you.”
He closed his eyes, and his shoulders relaxed as he bowed his head and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you too.”
“Dr. Blake.”
“Really?” His voice was hoarse from sleep. “You wake me up just to turn me on? Thanks, Lisa, really, I appreciate that. Not like I’ve had enough shock to my body these last few days.”
“Sleep with me.”
“Okay.” He moved next to me, his muscled body moving to lie down on the bed.
“Not like that.” I was thankful it was night.
His eyes squinted together, and then all of a sudden widened. In an instant, his mouth was on mine, and his shirt was on the floor.
“That was fast.” I laughed against his lips.
“I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you, and damn if I’m ever going to let someone come between us again.”
I let out a hoarse cry as his tongue plunged into my mouth, his hands sliding up my body, lifting my hospital gown. Pausing, he whispered, “Sorry, I’m being rough, and you did just get shot.”
“Stop talking!” I tugged at his jeans.
With a curse, he jumped off the bed and threw them to the floor then joined me again, totally naked.
“Later…” I arched beneath his touch. “…I’ll stare at your sexy body later, Dr. Blake, but right now, I need you. I need you so bad.”
“I’m right here.” He kissed me hard against the mouth, again and again, slanting at a different angle as if he couldn’t get enough of me.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Tristan!”
“I thought I was Dr. Blake,” he teased, his hands sliding across my hips, and then, I felt him.
My body shuddered with pleasure.
“Ah, so she likes calling me Dr. Blake.” He inched into me.
I clutched his shoulders, digging in with my fingers as his mouth moved to my neck.
“Why are you going so slow?” I whimpered, my body tightening, threatening to explode, wanting to move against him but afraid to do anything.
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“Say my name.”
“Tristan.”
“Wrong name.” He started pulling away.
I gripped his shoulders and moaned, “Dr. Blake,” just as he plunged all the way into me. My head fell back against the pillows as a lone tear ran down my face.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Finally… I found peace. In the arms of someone who looked at me like I was his air. —Lisa
Tristan
“YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL.” I could barely speak, but she needed to hear it. “And I love you more…” I moved within her. “…and more…” She gasped. “…with every passing day.” Her body tightened around me. “And I’m never letting you go. For as long as I live, I’m never letting you go.”
“Are you promising me forever?”
I stopped moving, nearly killing myself in the process, and reached up to touch her face. I tasted her with my lips, trailing them down her cheeks, kissing away the tears.
“The broken pieces are the prettiest ones, Lisa. The demons, the proudest scars.”
“Touch me,” she breathed. “Please, I need you, I need you.”
“I love you… I love you.” I stroked slowly, taking my time to feel every part of her, not wanting to rush a perfect moment. “You’re going to marry me, by the way.”
“Tristan,” she hissed.
“Dr. Blake.”
“Dr. Blake…” she moaned, her fingers digging into my shoulders as her body spasmed around me. “I may have to say yes… but you’ll need to ask when I’m not ready to scream your name.”
“In pleasure, I hope.” I grinned, then she jerked me against her, and my own release overtook me.
Gasping, body sated, I waited for her to tense, to possibly regret her actions. Instead, she pulled me closer, kissing my lips softly.
“In pleasure, always in pleasure, Dr. Blake.”
“Say it again, and I may just have a repeat performance.”
At a soft knock on the door, I paused and glanced over my shoulder. A gray-haired nurse waltzed in with a smile pasted on her face. The minute she saw us, she stopped dead in her tracks, gasped, then nearly ran into the door trying to leave.