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Sat 31 Jul, 2004 08:36 pm
Chapter 1
*
Lee winced as Tristan laid the icepack against her swelled lower lip.
"Just spend the night here."
She laid her hand over the icepack to hold it in place. "I can't, T.T. You know he'll go ballistic."
"I'd like to put him in the hospital."
"If you lay a finger on him, he'll kill my mother."
Tristan shook his head. "It's a shame what money does to people."
Lee tried to grin, but the pain in her mouth stopped her. "But not you."
He gave an ironic little smile. "No, not me."
Tristan owned a series of oil wells he inherited from his great-grandfather, but the man lived in the Canadian wilderness like a monk.
Except on his once a month excursions to Missoula, Montana, the city miles south of her hometown.
She'd met him when she was sixteen. Her stepfather had beaten the **** out of her and left her for dead in the mountains. Tristan was out looking for a good spot to fish when he found her.
He'd taken her back to his apartment and cleaned her up, even let her stay with him for a while.
Whenever he was in town, she always ran to him.
"Go relax, kid, and I'll make something to eat."
She gave him a look. "I'm nineteen, T.T., not twelve."
"Yeah, well, I'm thirty, so to me you're a kid."
She pouted playfully before going into the living room and making herself comfortable in front of the computer monitor.
She surfed the net and did some reading, and after a while, delicious smells drifted to her nose and she went back into his kitchen, sitting on the counter beside the stove.
"Are you comfortable?"
She nodded. "Starving, too."
He grinned, showing even pearly-whites. "I get the hint. It's almost done."
She stuck her face over the simmering pot and sniffed. "What is it?"
He put his hand on her forehead and moved her away. "Never you mind. Get off my counter and go sit. I'll bring it in a minute."
She jumped down and sat at the table.
He scooped some into two bowls with a big silver ladle and sat down across from her. "Lee, why don't you come home with me?"
She frowned, her lip throbbing as she took a bite of the hot liquid. "You know what he'd do if he found out I'd ran off."
Tristan sat there for a moment, his spoon suspended in midair. "What if I kidnapped you?"
She looked at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"
He set his spoon back in the bowl. "We could write the ransom note and mail it to him and then get on a plane."
"Theoretically speaking, it would work, but if he even thought for a minute
" She left the obvious unsaid.
He nodded his blonde head. "So we'll convince him, make it look real."
She gave him a long look. "Tris, this is something high-school kids would dream up."
Tristan stood and rinsed his bowl in the sink, placing it in the dishwasher. "It's not healthy for you to live there. This way he won't blame you and he'll be none the wiser."
"I don't know
"
He placed his hands on the table and leaned over her. "I worry about you, Lee. You don't know how relieved I am when you show up on my doorstep. I sit at home, praying he hasn't done something terrible to you."
She smiled, despite her sore mouth. "Really?"
He rolled his eyes and ruffled the top of her head with his hand. "That's not a good thing, kid."
She searched his cerulean eyes. "Do you realize how insane that sounds?"
He nodded, a wry grin curving his mouth. "Yes, unfortunately, but it would work."
She stood from her chair and went to the living room, with him following close behind. "You're insane," she said with a shake of her head as she sat in front of his television.
-
Tristan shut the door behind Lee after she left.
He'd grown quite fond of the little brat in the past three years and it had recently dawned on him that the beatings dealt to her were getting more severe.
She was strong, stronger than him, to live with such harsh treatment.
He worried for her safety, especially after last month's trip to town.
She left his apartment late and her stepdad was waiting up. She still had the nasty bruises on her ribs and along her back to prove that savage whipping. And to his amazement, she showed up the next morning and asked if she could hang out with him. She tried to hide them and he'd been murderous when he'd caught sight of them.
It would give him great pleasure to return every hit to her stepdad, seven times over.
Tristan went back to the living room and watched some TV, then shut it off, going to his room.
He lay in bed, his mind running wild with worry. He should've sent her home earlier. What if that bastard found out.
He rolled over and tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible.
He had to get her out of that house. She wasn't safe anywhere near that man. He would if it was the last thing he did.
She deserved far better than what she had.
He gave a sigh and threw the sheet off his body. He pulled his jeans on, but didn't bother to button them, and went to the kitchen.
He got the orange juice out of the fridge and took a big gulp.
He had just set the container back in the fridge, when he heard a noise.
It was a scratching sound, like a dog or cat, but he didn't have any animals here. He moved through the apartment as the sound got louder, hearing the distinct sound of metal against metal.
He listened.
It was coming from the door.
He strode over, expecting to find someone trying to jimmy his door lock. Instead he looked into Lee's spring green eyes.
She stood poised at the door, key in hand.
She blinked up at him and smiled, blood running down the side of her face from a cut over her eye. "When do we leave?"
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
-
Lee collapsed into his arms, letting her weariness overtake her.
He lifted her and took her into his room. Laying her on the bed, he went to the bathroom, wetting a wash cloth and getting some ointment and gauze from the medicine cabinet.
She was struggling to get out of her jacket when he came back and he caught the side of blood on the hem of her shirt.
He helped her out of her coat and got her to lay back.
"He cut me," she told him quietly.
Tristan's eyes shot to hers. "Where?"
She lifted the edge of her t-shirt away from her smooth tummy, showing a jagged gash that seeped her blood. It hurt like hellfire and she gritted her teeth.
"This is going to hurt," he murmured as he pressed the cloth against her wound.
She jerked, moaning in pain, as the sensation rocketed through her body.
He cleaned it up, getting the blood flow to stop. "It's not very deep," he said, his relief evident.
Carefully, he bathed the little cut over her eye, causing her to flinch. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead after he'd smoothed the gauze over it.
He checked her over, then helped her out of her jeans and t-shirt, pulling one of his button-down shirts over her head and tucking her arms in the sleeves. She hurt too bad to worry about her modesty.
He pulled the covers up over her.
"Get some rest, kid."
She watched as he grabbed a pillow from beside her head and tossed it on the floor. He got a blanket out of the hall closet and laid down beside the bed.
When morning came, she just laid there as feeling dashed over her nerve endings, making her wish she hadn't woken up.
She could hear Tristan in the front of the apartment, whistling a nameless tune to himself, as the scent of frying pork reached her.
Slowly, she eased her legs over the edge of the bed, gasping with every movement. This was the usual for her mornings. She always woke up stiff and achy. It took her a minute to get her bearings.
Carefully, she edged toward the kitchen, her head spinning.
Tristan greeted her with a sympathetic smile. "Mornin', kid." His sun-bleached blonde hair was wet, making water run down the deeply-tanned skin on his bare back. He had on a pair of shorts that were too short to be decent.
She frowned at him. "T.T.?"
He was flipping the pancakes he had in the pan in front of him. "Hmm?"
"Why are you wet?"
He looked down at himself then at her. "It's raining cats and dogs out there. I went out and got you some clothes."
She sat down at the table and he immediately slid a cup of coffee across it. She caught it and downed a big gulp, quickly burning her throat. "Damn, that's hot."
"Lee, I'm going to call the cops about this. It's gone on long enough."
"You mean the cops my stepdad has bought and paid for?"
Tristan set a plate in front of her and sat down in the chair beside her with his own food. "What about the FBI?"
She chuckled without mirth. "Owns a couple of them, too, along with some Supreme Court Justices and a few Senators." She smirked at him. "I thought you were going to kidnap me."
He rolled his eyes. "Can't a guy talk out of his ass every now and again?" He grinned at her, then composed himself. "Seriously. I'm leaving tomorrow and I'm not going without you."
They ate their breakfast and Lee started toward the living room, but Tristan grabbed her wrist. "I put your clothes on the bathroom sink and some bubble bath too. A hot bath will make you feel better."
She smiled up at him, then did something the rarely did in her life. She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I'll find some way to thank you," she said and headed toward the bathroom.
-
Tristan was grinning like a fool.
The little sprite didn't spontaneously show affection very often, but nevertheless, when she did, it never failed to make him stop in his tracks.
He was still smiling when he picked up the phone.
Someone picked up on the third ring.
"Hey, Tommy, this is Tristan, man."
"Hey, Tris, what can I do ya for?" Tommy Gaylord was one of his surfing buddies from his time in California. The man looked like a complete bubble head, but graduated with honors in forensic and police sciences. He was a brilliant P.I.
"I need you to run a check on someone."
His friend's voice lowered to a mysterious tone. "The legal kind?"
"Maybe not." Tristan glanced into the hallway to make sure Lee was still in the bath.
"What's the name?"
He sat down in a chair. "Fredrick Adler."
"I'll check him out. Gimme a day."
"If I'm not here, call me up north. Thanks, man."
The other man just chuckled. "You can owe me."
Tristan hung up and went into his room to change while he waited for Lee. He slipped on jeans with the knees ripped out and a black muscle shirt and padded barefoot to the living room.
He sat down in front of the computer and did an online background check on Adler himself for later reference.
"Hmm, one traffic ticket and one DUI." The man appeared clean. "Damn." He slammed the keyboard drawer in.
This was going to be difficult. He could feel it.
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