Frayed (8 page)

“I didn’t see it that way. I’m sorry—all I could think about is Harry. He left me…”
Trista spoke in between sobs. “I love him so much, it’s too painful… remembering is painful.”

She wanted to end it all for a man who broke her heart. Why the hell do women
do
this to themselves? I fucking don’t get it. I just fucking can’t.

“There is no man or woman out there worth ending your life for. You can’t just fucking give up when life rattles you to the core.
That’s the coward’s way out.” When she didn’t reply and simply carried on her sobbing, I took the initiative and lifted her soaked body off the sand. She started to protest, but I ignored her insistence to be put down. “You need to shower and sleep.” I never even broke my pace, I just continued to head towards her room.

Once in the marbled bathroom, I gently placed her before me. She gasped when I lifted her dress
off her body
like as if I was taking advantage of her state
. “What the hell are you doing?” Her arms instinctively covered her breasts. If this
were under normal circumstances, I would find it amusing, but it wasn’t. I was beyond angry
.
,
T
t
here
certainly
was no pleasure
found
here
.

I checked the water’s temperature before I ordered her to jump in the shower. My annoyance
jumped another notch when Trista glared at me. “Get in the damn shower, or I’ll haul you in there myself. You choose.” My voice was deadly and she knew I would carry out the threat if she wasn’t going to comply.

“You stupid son of a mother fucker!” she outraged. I didn’t leave the bathroom until I saw her get in it. I left the bathroom door slightly ajar, not willing to risk her life again.
I’m not going to take any chances this time. If I had to watch her like a hawk then so be it. Her broken heart be damned
.

I retreated for a quick shower of my own. I made sure to fetch a few bottled waters in the kitchen. I placed a couple on her side table. Before retreating to check her, my eyes darted at the luggage that sat openly on the floor. I freely browsed through it until I found her soft
, cotton
,
slip-on nightwear. “Are you done?” I called out after a few knocks on the bathroom door.

“I am.”

My hand slipped inside the door and handed her the scrap of cloth. Her soft hands yanked it
from me. That feisty gesture made me smirk. After a minute, she came out with towel
-
dried hair, wearing that skimpy, sexy, night
dress
. My gaze moved away from her body. The man in me easily found her body attractive, but reason and propriety won over. Grabbing one of the bottled waters, I broke the lid open and handed it to her, not muttering anything. Trista gulped down half the bottle, thirsty as hell. “I’m going to bed. I, uh, thanks.”

What was the proper reply to that?
You’re welcome, as long as you don’t do it again?

I rounded the bed and gestured
for her to get in. She cautiously slipped in the sheets, her green eyes not leaving mine. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to sleep here, too?” she asked when I didn’t move to exit her room.

“I’d be
more comfortable knowing that you’re safe. The only way to achieve that is to sleep here.” I briskly moved towards the other side of the bed. I slid inside the sheets and turned to my side. Sleep was out of the question tonight.

Trista
was very still, not one movement came from her. After half an hour or so, I heard her speak. “You’re not going to tell them, are you?” her voice was scratchy and wobbly at the same time.

I had never
planned to, unless she made another attempt, but this woman needed to understand how massive this responsibility on my shoulders really was. “I won’t, as long as you behave yourself. I will be keeping a close eye on you, just so we’re clear.” I was not going to have her die on my watch. That’s inconceivable. I heard her reply a small ‘yeah’ after a few minutes.

Good, like I would
accept anything other than her agreement.

“Taylor?”
Trista asked again after a long stretch of silence.

My thoughts were still back in the events that took place a couple hours ago. The image of her pale
, lifeless body floating—slowly sinking in the sea—played havoc in my mind. “Hmm?” I stayed put on my side. I was still extremely furious at her.

Her shallow breathing was pronounced. “I hadn’t plan
ned on it… all I wanted was to have a quick swim… but when I got underwater…” Trista paused. I could easily hear her swallow. She sounded like her actions had shocked her, too. “I remember the feeling of surrender… and I felt at peace about it.”

If it were another guy in here with her, he would most likely coddle her and
try to give little assurances, but I wasn’t that kind of a man. I believed in fighting for reason, for truth, to free one’s self from lies. Life was hard, so one must play hardball. Fight it tooth and nail. Courage, it’s the best therapy to give oneself. “I may understand the full capacity of your situation, Trista, but you must see how cowardly your actions were. If a person gives up every time shit is thrown their way, the human race wouldn’t have survived. You have to learn how to fight—physically, emotionally, mentally. Face it bravely, even if the pain is too great, the consequences too frightening. At the end of the day, the only thing that counts is how much you’ve made a difference—progress. Fighting it is progressive. Fighting is reason.”

When I didn’t hear her, I assumed she fell asleep. So, I shifted a little
to get more comfortable and rolled on my back—arms folded behind my head, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“You know, for a pretty boy, you’re insightful and sharp. I thought all your studying law talk, was well, all talk,” she murmured, shifting on her side.

From my peripheral vision, I could see she was looking at me, but I didn’t move from my current position. “They did tell you not to judge the book by its cover, right? Now be a good girl and sleep. The island of Ios awaits.” 

Chapter 8

Trista

I was jolted awake when I heard a light slam of what sounded like the front door. It was probably Emma, off to work. My face contorted when a migraine gave me immediate whiplash.

I managed to spring my eyes open and
found myself looking at Taylor’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his face looking a little tired. His hazel eyes scanned my face.

“Migraine, it just came out of nowhere,” I mumbled and started to close my eyes again. I didn’t want to keep looking at him. The feeling of shame, guilt and embarrassment of what took place last night came back with a vengeance.

“I’ll get you some pain killers, be right back,” he rasped out, the deep timbre of his voice bothered me. I could hear him slide out of bed before he quietly left the room. I suppose I drifted back to sleep because I was a little disoriented when Taylor caressed my arm. I blinked a few times, until there’s enough moisture in my eyes.  Taylor had two blue pills in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. I half sat-up, without looking at him, I silently took the pills and orange juice. Once I washed everything down my throat, I humbly thanked him.

“Go back to sleep. I get up early and Bass should be up soon. I’ll be out on the patio if you need anything.” Taylor still looked serious, not a smile anywhere this morning. I hardly blamed him after my idiocy last night.

Once the effects of the pills vanquished my monster migraine, I retuned to sleep. My body simply couldn’t get enough of it.

***

“Knock-knock, the witch is back.” Lindsey called out after she opened the door.

Dear Almighty, I forgot that she had a tendency of waking up people. Emma complained about it for much of the past year. It was one of the reasons why Amber and I didn’t want to dorm with her.

“Fuck, Lindsey!” I grumbled when I felt her get on the bed, and start to jump on it like a damn, little girl having the time of her life.

“Oh, come on, granny! You missed lunch already! We
gotta go and seek out Greek McHotties!” Lindsey screamed at me, laughing in between sentences. One didn’t need to see how happy she was. Yeah, and to think I almost came close last night… Taylor was right. I felt like the selfish, evil bitch he accused me of being, I truly did.

Lindsey was smiling down on me when she saw me sit up, obviously giving in to her mad tricks. “Give me fifteen,” I mumbled, weary and sleepy.

She jumped out of the bed and landed perfectly on the floor. “Fifteen, got it! Let the countdown begin. Tick-tock!” Lindsey called out before she closed the door after her.

Knowing how she was, she really would time me. Crazy woman,
but I love her no less for it.

Instead of fifteen, I was done in ten minutes. I wasn’t really up to putting any make-up on
, so after I showered and lathered some lotion on, I was good to go.

I was thankful when Taylor acted normal, as if he didn’t save my life last night.
Yet, he still unnerved me somehow.

Lindsey and Taylor agreed that they would love to take the ferry to get to the other island, instead of the small planes they have around. I really could
n’t care less about any of the transportation, so I just followed their lead.

I was surprised when I found the
ferry ride was actually relaxing. I half listened to Taylor and Lindsey looking over the travel guide for Ios, planning places to check out once we were there.

We arrived
on Ios right about sundown and checked in at a three-bedroom villa that overlooked the sea. On the way to the hotel, we saw crowds of people our age enjoying their drinks and lounging around the beach. “God, I’m crazy excited!!!” Lindsey couldn’t contain her joy when she spotted a few hot men.

Yeah, this was going to be a great night.
Fight it, Taylor had said last night. Yep, I would fight it, MY WAY.

I was barely getting my things out of my luggage when I heard a knock on the door. “The men aren’t going to disappear, you know. Give me half an hour then I
will be set to go.”

When the door opened, I was
startled to see Taylor instead of the more expected, Lindsey. “I’m attracted to breasts, so no, men aren’t my thing.” He gave me a knee-buckling kind of smile.

Holy fuck, this guy was hot
. I mean, I
knew
he was. But now, I’m really
noticing
it, blatantly noticing it, BIG TIME.

I bit my lip and looked away, hating that my body was reacting to him. Could this be Hero Syndrome? God, I hope not. That would be humiliating to like someone
who saw you at your lowest. “Did you want something?” I asked, still not looking at him.

He strode forward and sat comfortably on my bed. He cleared his throat, and I could feel his heated gaze on me, but I didn’t budge
to meet it. “How are you? I’ve been meaning to ask, but I never really got the chance to.”

Ah, shit
-cakes. “I’m still reeling, I guess. You don’t have to worry about that again, though.” I looked up and finally met his probing gaze. “It was a random thing. I assure you, it never crossed my mind before.” 

Taylor got up and silently strode before me. “That may be, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Who knows how many impulsive
, deadly endeavors there may be?”

“I’m not a nutcase, not even close to suicidal. That was a one-off incident. One I won’t be attempting again, I promise.” I pressed my lips together, trying to gain some composure
, maybe a little bit of dignity, too.

His moss green-eyes drilled into mine,
causing my breath to hitch. Time stood still, I felt bereft and perplexed at the same time. Although, most of all, I felt exposed to this man that I barely knew.

“I’m still watching you,
Trista. Think of it like I’m your own personal guardian angel; a dark one.” His scrutinizing gaze roved over me one more time. “We’ll see you in thirty then.” Taylor left my room after parting with those words.