Chapter 41: 29| Trust

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ Trust ┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛ Chapter 29: Trust (Amara's POV) Tristan wanted me alive. Even though he claimed he no longer wanted to kill me, I had a hard time believing him. If Tristan was the man I knew him to be, rather than me being in danger, it must have bothered him that someone else who was trying to kill me could have as much power over me as he could. He may not want to admit it but what he offered me was somewhat of a truce. I knew not to test my luck and question it because he would probably change his mind. "What are you suggesting, Mr. Harper?" I asked, leaning back in my seat as I lifted a brow at him. "A deal?" "Of some sort," he agreed with a sharp nod. "Do tell," I replied. He watched me for a beat before chuckling dryly, rolling his tongue along his cheek. "Humor me," I persisted, "I want to know what I'm signing up for. If you're claiming that you don't want to kill me, I want to try to understand why or at least how you'll prevent it." He dropped his hands on his thighs and held my gaze. "Let me help you with your case," he said. I watched him, my eyes narrowing slightly. "I won't ask you to divulge any details you don't want to," he added, "just let me help with the investigation. Let me keep you safe." "And why do you suddenly care so much about me? Enough to want me alive instead?" I questioned. "Because I hate the idea of someone else having that kind of power over you," he answered. "That's what I thought," I mused. "So, you want me to trust that you'll keep me safe simply because you want to be the only one to kill me? Doesn't that mean you'll still kill me? Eventually?" I asked, taking a sip of my drink. "Eventually?" he repeated, "perhaps. That depends on you, Malyshka. Be a bad girl and I might change my mind. It doesn't take that long to pull the trigger, hmm?" I shook my head slowly as I poked at my food, twirling the fork. "That's not fair, Mr. Harper. I can only begin to trust you if you give me your word." Pausing, I leaned forward, holding my chin in my palm. "Give me your word. Promise me you won't kill me, no matter what. Promise me you'll keep me safe as long as I'm working on the Ricci case and even when that comes to an end, you will not kill me. Promise me." Tristan traced the signet ring on his finger, running his thumb over the gold band. "You're asking for a lot, Ms. Milano." "It's all or nothing, Mr. Harper. I can't work with someone I don't trust and I can't trust someone unless they give me a good reason to. Why do you really want me alive?" "I already answered that question, Malyshka." I replied, "What I'm trying to understand is why you changed your mind." He downed whatever was left of his drink and set it down harshly on the counter. "I'm afraid I don't have the answers you want from me." "Because you won't admit it, even to yourself?" I pressed further. "Do you care about me?" I asked bluntly. "No," he said sharply, "yet for some reason, I find that you drive me insane and have far too much control over every one of my waking thoughts. I don't care about you, Amara. Frankly, I don't understand what it is about you that is so maddening. What I do know is that I cannot let someone else kill you. I won't-" "Allow someone else that pleasure," I finished for him, knowing those words by now. "I've heard it, Tristan. Are you telling me that or convincing yourself? Is that the pleasure you're seeking? Of killing me? Or is it something else that you want?" "What else do you have to offer me?" he asked, lifting a brow at me smugly. I held his gaze, both of us falling into a thoughtful silence as we tried reading each other. "We've already played this game once, Tristan," I reminded him, "already danced this dance once. You hate me for it." "I hate you for reasons that are entirely different, Amara. Reasons neither one of us will ever understand… I'd like to gamble again tonight, Ms. Milano." My breath hitched in my throat as Tristan's knee brushed against mine before slipping between my legs, keeping them apart. The hand I rested on the table slid down beneath it and tightened into a fist while I continued to hold my chin in the other palm. "On what?" I whispered. "On us," he answered. I didn't have a reply for him, didn't have it in me to argue because a greater part of me didn't want to. I started to crave Tristan again the way I once did, the way I never allowed myself to, never wanted to feel again because I was too afraid. Afraid of the hurt he was capable of causing me, afraid of the lies he was capable of telling me, afraid of the revenge he could be seeking from me. Tristan hated me for reasons unknown to me and perhaps they would always remain that way because they were beyond my understanding. I would be a fool to fall for the man who despised me, to fall for the man who lived to watch me suffer. I didn't want to admit it, didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that I was willing to be so reckless for him yet again. Things would never change between us yet somehow they felt different tonight. Inadvertently, we both decided things would be different from then on. I was foolish enough to want the man who lived to kill me, to watch me die… but Tristan was foolish enough to crave me too, the woman he lived to despise, to kill mercilessly. "We should leave," I said, clearing my throat and grabbing my purse. Pushing my chair back, I rose to my feet and walked around the table, toward the exit. A strained breath escaped me as Tristan caught my hand before I could pass him and held me in place as he stood up. Tugging me back and closer, he towered over me. "Running away, Malyshka?" he asked knowingly. "It won't solve our problem." "There's no problem to solve," I lied, freeing myself from his grip. There was a problem, a huge one at that. Tristan and I started to desire and crave each other again but this time, it stood in the way of everything we were trying to accomplish and achieve. "You're still in denial," he told me, then added softly, "just like you were like last time." "Why are you doing this?" I sighed in frustration. He scoffed, staring at me. "You think I like feeling this way?" He stepped nearer, erasing all the distance between us as his body brushed against mine. "I hate what you to do me," he whispered, leaning in ever so slightly. I lifted my hands to his chest, hoping to push him away but his hands swiftly clamped down on mine, keeping them pinned in place. Closing my eyes, I turned my head the other way, pleading, "Tristan, don't." I felt the gentle caress of his touch on my wrist, the brush of his lips against my ear, and the blazing fire it all ignited within me. "I hate that I want you, Amara," he whispered, "and I hate you because I can't get you out of my fucking head. It's starting to feel like I'm drowning in you." "We can't do this again," I argued, pushing him away slowly as I met his gaze. "I can't do this again. We're standing in each other's way, don't you understand that?" "I understand that better than anybody, Amara," he responded. For every time I tried moving away from him, Tristan was tugging me right back into him. "But this runs beyond my control and it is fucking driving me insane," he explained slowly, emphasizing each and every word as his hold tightened on me. "I don't know how to get you out of my system," he exhaled. I watched him, tried to understand him, tried to read him but it all amounted to nothing because Tristan was always a mystery to me. "I can't stand the thought of someone hurting you," he told me. I slipped out of his grasp and pushed him away. "What you can't stand is the thought of someone else hurting me." "You think I want to hurt you?" he questioned. I couldn't help the light scoff that escaped me. "Tristan, you wanted to kill me." "Amara, I want to kill you at every waking moment that goes by where I can't shake off the control you have over me. I want to kill you for what you're capable of doing to me. I want to kill you because I can't fucking stop…" he trailed off, stopping himself as he stared back at me. "Have I ever hurt you?" he asks. "No," I answered reluctantly, "but you've wanted to." "But I haven't. Do you trust me?" I stared at him. "Can I trust you?" I asked instead. "Have I ever let you down when you did?" he questioned. No. No, he hasn't. It wasn't often that I gathered the courage to put my faith and trust in Tristan but the rare times I did, he never let me down, never took advantage of my vulnerability, never used an unfair advantage against me, even if he had the opportunity to. "No," I replied honestly. "Then trust me, Amara. I want you to work with me rather than against me. If you choose to work against me then I truly have no other choice." He paused for a beat, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he pocketed them. "I have no choice but to kill you, Ms. Milano." A defeated sigh crawled up my throat. "Why can't you just-" "Because I fucking hate it," he said, cutting me off. "I hate what you do to me. What you're still doing to me, even when I don't allow you to. I hate the power you have over me. I'm the one who shouldn't trust you. It's better for me to kill you, Malyshka." Stepping closer again, he lifted his fingers to my chin, tilting it up lightly. "I don't know if I should kill you…" His eyes fell to my lips. "Or do something else entirely." As I watched him, watching his eyes and the way he looked at me, for the first time since I'd known him, I felt like Tristan Harper truly wasn't capable of killing me. Maybe, just maybe. "You can't kill me," I said, betting on my instincts. My options were limited but no matter what, I realized that the only option I wanted to choose was Tristan. "I wish I could," he said, his jaw ticking. "But the longer I stare at you, the more evident it becomes that… perhaps I can't. Trust me, Amara. Trust me so I can trust you." I couldn't do this tonight, I needed time to think this through, to decide if this was worth the risk. Tristan could keep me safe if he decided to, undoubtedly. But I couldn't gamble on my heart once again. Even if we did this, there would be boundaries that could not be crossed. I'll fucking make sure of it. . . . . . Chapter 29