Home > Tristan: Finding Hope (Nova #3.5)(8)

Tristan: Finding Hope (Nova #3.5)(8)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“Yeah, something like that,” I say, not wanting to get into the details of our complicated triangle.

She’s about to say something else when suddenly someone says something really loud and her attention snaps to the side of us. I sense her tense up, her hands balling into fists, her jaw setting tight. I turn to find what’s got her so scared and see a guy striding toward us through the crowd with his eyes focused solely on her as he pushes people out of his path. He looks rough around the edges; short hair, goatee, arms covered in tattoos that go up to his shoulders and his neck.

“Fuck,” she utters under her breath. “I can’t handle this shit tonight.”

I’m about to ask her what when the guy reaches us. “You didn’t call me back,” he says to Avery.

“That’s because I had nothing to say.” Avery reaches for her napkin and starts ripping it to pieces.

He moves around to the back of her and her whole body goes rigid. “We need to f**king talk, Avery. You can’t just keep ignoring me.”

“Of course I can,” she says, staring ahead instead of at him. “Besides, you’re not even supposed to be talking to me at all. Court’s orders.”

Shit. This is the last thing I want to get in the middle of. I’m about to get up and walk away, go to the bathroom and do my thing, when the guys says, “Who the f**k is this?”

I’ve had my ass kicked many times. I’m an ex-junkie who used to deal and steal and mess with the wrong people. In fact, I almost got killed over it once. That alone should have me getting up and leaving, because this guy seems like the kind who would start swinging with no real cause except for he thinks I’m doing something to him. But Avery looks at me with this plea in her eyes that says Please don’t leave me.

“He’s just a friend, Conner,” she says tightly. “So don’t do anything stupid.”

Conner. The guy the bouncer was talking about.

Conner stares me down, trying to intimidate me and I stare right back, refusing to look away, knowing what it’ll mean if I do. Finally, he’s the one who gives up and looks back at Avery.

“Can I talk to you in private?” he asks, leaning in toward her.

“No,” Avery says, attempting to sound firm, but there’s fear in her voice. Why is this girl afraid of him? I wonder if it has to do with the scar on her neck.

“It’s about Mason,” Conner says.

“Don’t you dare say his name,” she snaps, shoving him back. “You don’t even deserve to say it.”

Rage flares in Conner’s eyes and suddenly he has Avery by the arm and is dragging her through the crowd toward the back of the building. Part of me is screaming at myself to stay out of it but the other part of me wants to run after them.

I hesitate, deciding what I’m going to do. “Fuck,” I say and then get up from the stool, pushing after them, wondering just how big of a mess I’m running after. And if I can handle it.

Chapter 5

When I reach them, Avery is jerking her arm, trying to get it out of his hold as he slams his hand against the back door and steps outside. I follow a few moments later and by the time I get out there, he’s got her trapped against the wall by the Dumpster and is already yelling at her. I can tell he’s definitely done something to hurt her in the past, by the way she flinches every time he raises his voice. I’m going back and forth with whether to go back inside or step in. Do I want to get into this mess? Can I handle this mess?

“You made it sound worse than it was,” he shouts, getting in her face, veins bulging in his neck. “This is bullshit.”

She hugs her arms around herself. “All I did was tell the truth, you f**king ass**le,” she yells back, but her voice cracks.

“You are such a f**king liar,” he says, slamming his hand against the Dumpster and causing her to wince. “A f**king alcoholic just like your mother.”

“I’m nothing like my mother,” she shouts back, getting brave enough to get in his face. “And I’m sober now. And being a drunk is a hell of a lot better than what you are.”

I see him raise his hand and my uncertainty whether to get into this mess vanishes in a heartbeat. I stride forward and shove him back, knowing this is all about to blow up in my face, especially when he ends up bashing his head into the Dumpster.

“Shit,” Avery says, staring in horror at Connor as he works to regain his footing. She pushes me back toward the door without taking her eyes off him. “Tristan, go back inside.”

I gape at her. “You’re seriously trying to protect me right now.”

She gives me another push, this time looking at me, and all I can see is fear in her eyes. “Trust me. It’s for your own good.”

I’m shaking my head, confused as hell, because this guy was just about to beat the crap out of her and she’s trying to protect me instead of herself, when Conner gets to his feet.

“You’re f**king dead, pretty boy,” he says, reaching for his pocket, with this annoying smirk on his face.

What is with all the pretty boy comments tonight?

“Avery, let’s go inside,” I say, taking Avery buy the arm and guiding her behind me. I can sense something bad is about to happen. Whatever he’s about to pull out of his pocket is not going to be a cigarette—that’s for sure. It’s a knife and not a small pocketknife, but a larger, hunting-type knife.

I’ve had a few guns pulled out on me before, knives, brass knuckles; it’s nothing new. Yet it is. Because I’m sober. When I was high, it was easier to ignore the bigger picture. But I can fully see it now—how easily I could die if this guy wanted to kill me.

I instantly step in front of Avery and spread my hands out to the side, protecting her. “Go inside,” I call over my shoulder.

“Just friends, huh?” Conner shakes his head, aggravated, as he moves toward us with the knife out in front of him. “I knew that shit couldn’t be true. You’re too much of a slut to have a friend that’s a guy.”

I hear Avery dialing someone on her cell phone from behind me. The cops I hope.

Seconds later, Conner takes a swing at me and I double back, but he ends up clipping my side. I stagger over my feet as the tip of the knife splits my shirt and grazes the skin. I quickly recover and throw a punch of my own, my fist connecting with his jaw. His eyes redden with anger and I’m not sure if hitting him was a good idea or not.

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