CORAL - Forever (A Romance Trilogy, Book 3) (40 page)

Tristan instantly stiffens beneath me, it’s like every
muscle in his body has reacted. It feels like I’m sitting on a hard rock, not a
human body. His eyes instantly turn dark. His cheeks have flushed and his
breathing has kicked up, his jaw is tensing too, but he keeps his eyes locked
on mine. We stay like that for a while, just staring at one another. I’m glad
Tristan hasn’t freaked out, it wouldn’t do either of us any good if he did.

He swallows hard, then reaches up and tenderly places his
hand on my cheek. “You’re sure?” he says, his voice wavering.

“Tristan, I would never forget his face.” I whimper, then I
realise something, something I hadn’t pieced together before. I gasp again. “He
did know me! The fucker knew me when he raped me, he recognised me – He knew!”
I screech.

I feel outraged. I get up from Tristan’s lap and start
pacing again, I grip my hair in my fists while I try to work it out. He must
have seen me, recognised me, and decided to pursue me, knowing all along what
he was going to do...

Something is recalled from deep within my psyche, something
I thought I heard him say when I was half-conscious and he was raping me...
I
always wondered what it would be like with you
...I fall to the floor my
knees giving way on me.

Then I feel it, the rage flooding my veins, I bring my fists
up and slam them down onto the floor, over and over again. Tristan is instantly
over to me, he crouches behind me, takes hold of my arms and pulls them against
my chest.

“Stop Coral, stop...” He wraps his arms around me, squeezing
me tight.

“My mom was right Tristan,” I croak. “I remembered something
he said to me when...he said,‘
I always wondered what it would be like with
you’
He knew Tristan, he knew!”

“Jesus...” Tristan breathes, squeezing me tighter.

I feel angry, sick and violated all over again –
Mother
Fucker!

The anger quickly turns to tears. The floodgates open and I
cry angry, wretched tears, howling out loud as the realisation keeps hitting me
over and over again. I don't think I’m going to be able to stop. Tristan
doesn’t move an inch, he just stays on the floor with me, his arms tightly
wrapped around me...

It takes a while for me to calm down, but once the crying has
ceased, Tristan helps me to my feet. I take another bathroom break because I
need to clean up my face, and when I’m done, I head back into the living room.
Tristan is stood up, waiting for my return, I’m trying not to, but I feel angry
again, and vulnerable and stupid! How could I have not seen it?

Tristan has poured us both another Brandy. He takes my hand
and sits me down on the sofa.

“Here baby, drink this.” He says, handing me a glass.

“I shouldn’t” I say.

“Baby, one more isn’t going to mess with your painkillers,
besides I think you need it. Take it baby drink it.” I take the glass of
Tristan and take a sip. Tristan gestures for me to sit on his lap again, so I
clumsily climb onto him.

“How are you feeling baby?” He softly asks.

“Angry and stupid.” I spit. “I can't believe it...” I break
off and stare blankly ahead.

“That you knew him?” He questions. I look up and nod.
Tristan tenses his jaw several times. I can see it in his eyes, he wants to
kill him, to kill both of them – I’m instantly worried.

“Tristan, promise me you won’t do anything stupid, if it got
back to you, linked to you...” I take a deep breath. “If anything happened to
you...” I trail off not wanting to think about it.

Tristan takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out. He
still hasn’t looked at his laptop. I think he’s trying very hard not to lose
it, like if he does look at the screen, at Kane’s photo, he’ll punch it to the
floor in anger.

“Promise me,” I prompt.

“I won't do anything, I promise.” He states, his voice firm,
sharp.

I smile tentatively at him. “Ok.” I take another sip at the
same time as Tristan, for some reason it makes me smile.

“I’m glad you told me what happened last night. I’m glad you
didn’t keep this to yourself, or try to handle it on your own,” he says, but
he’s miles away, I can tell.

“I did contemplate not telling you. I was going to get
another P.I report.” Tristan stiffens once more beneath me. “But then I thought
no, you’ll handle it. Like you are now, I should give you more credit.”

“I don't feel like I’m handling it,” he says through gritted
teeth. “Inside I’m screaming!”

I wrap my free arm around his neck and bury my head under
his chin, he starts stroking my back, making me feel safe and warm. We sit
silently for a while, sipping our Brandy’s, both deep in thought...

“What do
you
want to do Coral?” I look up at Tristan,
he’s glaring at Kane’s photograph, eyes wild with hate and fury.

“I don't know,” I say, frowning deeply. “Well as in so much
as I don't know what to do about it, now that I know who they are. I don't want
to go to court, but I don't want them to get away with it either.” I swallow
hard. Why do I want retribution? I’ve never wanted that before, but I guess
that was before I knew who either of them were. I guess knowing changes
things...

“Maybe that’s what we should do?” I emphasise the
‘we’
.
“You know, have him investigated? They might find some incriminating evidence
that Kane’s done this before, which I’m sure he has, and as for his father....”
Tristan is still glaring at Kane but nods once in agreement.

We’ve got to get the fucker back, somehow! He can't get away
with this!
Ugh!
The sheer audacity of Simon last night, and then
Kane...raping me because he just wondering what it would be like? Sick fucks! –
Ugh! I hope they both rot in hell when they die!

I gulp back the last of my Brandy and place the glass on the
coffee table. I feel drained now.

“You look tired,” Tristan says, spookily reading me again.
He glances at me, then locks eyes with Kane. But his look has changed, the pure
rage has gone, something else has replaced it, but I don't know what? Is it
revenge?

I lean forward and slam the laptop shut. “No need to look at
his ugly mug anymore,” I croak.

Tristan sighs, as though it’s in relief. “Baby, do you want
me to come and lie down with you?”

“I need you more than sleep Tristan.” I take a deep breath.
“I need you to comfort me. I don't want to be on my own,” I say, my voice
trembling again.

“Oh baby!” He pulls me closer to his body, squeezing me
tight. “Has it bought it all back?” He questions darkly.

“Yes...” I grip him closer to me. “Make it go away, wash it
all away for me Tristan,” I whimper.

“I will baby, I will.” Tristan kisses the top of my head
several times. “What do you want, a shower or a bath?”

I shiver again. “A bath I think,” I say.

Tristan kisses the top of my head once more. “Feel like
eating anything yet?” He asks. I still feel nauseous, so I shake my head at
him. “Ok.” Tristan drains the Brandy out of his glass. “I’ll go get the bath
ready.” I do not want to be on my own.

“I’m coming with you,” I say jumping off his lap, but I
haven’t had this much to drink in a while, not on an empty stomach, so I sway
slightly. “Whoa!” It makes me giggle.

Tristan catches me by the elbows. “Drunken bum!” He teases.

“Oh ha ha ha!” I titter.

Tristan turns his back to me and crouches down. “Wanna hitch
a ride?” He asks. He’s trying to be playful, to lighten the moment, and I so
love him for it.

“Yes,” I chuckle and jump up on his back.

He slowly stands as I wrap my legs around his waist, and hug
his mighty fine shoulders and chest with my arms. I kiss his neck over and over
as he walks us steadily into the en-suite. Reaching the built-in sinks, he sits
me down, then turns and gently pecks me on the lips. Then he takes my face in
his hands, gently stokes my hair out of my face and kisses me, hard.

“You’re so brave Coral.” I smile up at him, blinking more
tears back. With another kiss to my forehead, Tristan swiftly turns around and I
watch him turn on the taps, get the water to the right temperature, then add
some bath bubbles.
Smells like cinnamon!

“Tristan, I don't feel like going out today. Will you stay
in with me?”

“Of course I’ll stay in with you,” he snorts. “What did you
think I was going to do, swan off to the beach as though nothing’s happened?”
He says, shaking his head at me.

I roll my eyes at him. “You know what I meant,” I retort
dryly.

He walks back over to me and places his hands either side of
my face. “Why don't we have a day of lounging around. We can get back out on
the beach tomorrow if you want to, if you feel like it?” He says, then gives me
a soft chaste kiss.

“Ok,” I say, feeling lighter.

Tristan freezes, he looks like he’s just had a light bulb
moment. “I bought the Phil Collins DVD with me, we could watch that if you
like?” He says beaming brightly at me.

“Good idea,” I say.

“We could draw the blinds and curl up in bed, watch it on my
laptop,” he adds, his cheeks flushing red.

“That’s twice you’ve mentioned that,” I say. “Does it have
some kind of significance for you?” I question.

His brow furrows, then he smiles shyly at me and shrugs.
“I’ve never done that before,” he murmurs, then swiftly turns away from me and
switches off the taps. “Bath’s ready,” he quietly says, but he doesn’t turn
around, so I scoot down of the sinks.

Reaching him, I try to turn him around so I can see his
face, but he won't budge, he doesn’t want to look at me – Why? I reach my hand
around so it’s resting on his cheek, and try to coax him to look at me. He
finally relents and turns to gaze down at me, his cheeks are still blushed, his
eyes dark, he looks like he’s hurting but I don't know why?

He’s so tall when I have nothing on my feet. I gaze up at
him. “Tell me why?” I ask, stroking his cheek.

He sighs heavily. “Coral, I...” He stops and runs his hand
through his hair. “Olivia had...it doesn’t matter,” he sighs. His broody look
is back.

“Ok,” I say, pretending like I’m letting this go, but I’m
not. “Help me get my hoody off?”

Tristan helps me undress. When I’m naked, I pin my hair up
then Tristan helps me into the bath. I scoot into the middle and curl my arms
around my legs. I watch him silently undress, wondering how I’m going to
approach this. Then I think maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should just wait and see
if Tristan says something.

“Front or back?” He asks before he climbs in.

“Back please, if that’s ok?” I ask, looking up at him. He’s
still brooding. I lift up my left hand, it’s my good shoulder and offer it to
him. Tristan gently places his hand in mine, I feel no pressure on my hand as
he nimbly steps into the water. Releasing my hand, he slowly sinks down behind
me, his legs either side of mine and gently pulls me back so I’m resting
against his chest.

Then he silently picks up one of our new Sea Sponges. It’s
mustard yellow, delicately soft, but looks like fungus spores to me – Tristan
thought it was hilarious when I said that aloud in the shop. But I have to
admit, it is a great sponge, it feels really, really nice.

Tristan dunks it in the water, they slowly massages it
across my shoulders, down my arms, across my breasts and my stomach. And I
suddenly realise, he’s washing me clean, like he said he would –
God I love
this man.

I close my eyes and savour the moment. After everything
that’s happened, last night and today, it feels absolutely wonderful. Like
Tristan actually
is
washing it all away, with each stroke I feel
cleaner, less angry, and more myself. I take a deep cleansing breathe and
slowly blow it out.

I am melting like chocolate, my troubles drifting away...

“Olivia had very singular tastes,” he says, pulling me out
of my relaxing moment. I feel him kiss my temple, then he continue washing me.

“I don't understand?” I whisper, not really sure if I should
push, or if I actually want to know.

Tristan sighs again. I think this is painful for him to say.
“As far as she was concerned’ – he kisses my temple again – ‘beds were for
fucking and sleeping in.”

My eyes are wide open now, and I feel very alert.

“But you said you’d had breakfast in bed’ – “Not with her
Coral, a couple of other women I dated. It only happened a few times.” I
swallow hard. I’m not sure if I want to hear this. It seems very odd to me that
you can live with someone, yet never do anything sweet like that together. I
mean, Justin was no angel, but we did that plenty of times. In fact, most
Sundays were spent nursing our hangovers, eating junk food and watching our
favourite films in bed.

“So...so you never...she never wanted to do nice things like
that?” I tentatively ask.

“Nice wasn’t in Olivia’s vocabulary,” he says, kissing my
hair this time.

I try to work it out. Edith hated her, that’s obvious. And Tristan’s
made it very clear to me that he was wrapped up in her web, blinded by her,
walking around with rose coloured spectacles on – god knows I’m guilty of that,
I thought Justin walked on water when I met him – Yet, he’s said that she was
cold, that she never did anything nice for him, not cook him something, or
spontaneously buy him something, or just treat him well, and now this!

I don't understand how he could have been with such a cold
stone, heartless bitch, when he’s so...so, so sweet and gentlemanly and
charismatic and – “What are you thinking Coral?” He sounds worried.

“I’m just trying to get my head round it Tristan.” I mumble.

“Get your head round what?” He softly says, still washing me
and planting a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Why you were with her,” I whisper. “She sounds’ –
Shut
up Coral!

“Go on baby, speak your mind,” he pushes.