Fall into Me (Heart of Stone #2)(63)
Author: K.M. Scott

"Do you mean every time I went out they were there?" I asked in astonishment.

I looked at the men as they nodded silently. My bodyguards looked down at me as I worked to process all of this. Two men had been watching me and obviously Tristan had hired them.

"Yes, and they’ll be there every time you go out from now on."

"What if I don’t want them to be?" I asked, feeling slightly irritated by Daryl’s officious tone. It was one thing for Tristan to be all Alpha with me. I loved him. Daryl was just some scruffy guy sitting in what was now my house and bossing me around.

"I’m sorry, but you don’t have a choice. They have their job, just as I have mine. Your safety is paramount to Tristan, so you’ll just have to get used to having them around."

"I don’t understand, Daryl. I thought that Karl and his thugs didn’t care about me anymore because my sister gave them what they wanted. Why would I be in danger?"

"If Karl doesn’t get what he wants from Tristan, he’s not above hurting you. These men will make sure that doesn’t happen."

"What? For the rest of my life?"

"I don’t know the answer to that. For now, they’ll be next to you at all times."

I looked up again at the men. "Since you’re going to be my shadows, I should at least know your names."

Mr. All Business nodded. "Nathan West."

The corners of Blue Eye’s mouth hitched up slightly, giving him a sort of scary-sexy look. "Gage Varo."

Both men had hollow, deep voices, adding to my anxiety about all of this. Turning to face Daryl, I asked, "How do they know when I’m leaving the house? Does Jensen call them?"

"They stay in the carriage house. When Jensen leaves, they leave."

I sat stunned at what Daryl was saying. These men lived on the same property as I did and I’d never even seen them. And they’d been following me for weeks. How is it I’d missed these two gigantic men near me at all times?

"Why haven’t I noticed them all this time?"

The one named Varo answered, "Because you weren’t looking for us. Our job is to be invisible. You would have never known we were there if you hadn’t been told."

"What if I don’t want to live here with bodyguards and a driver?"

Daryl seemed to think about my question and answered, "I think that would make Tristan unhappy. He wants to ensure you’re safe, Nina."

"I want to talk to him. I’m tired of all this. Where is he?"

Instead of giving me the answer I so desperately wanted, Daryl simply stood to leave. "I can’t help you with that. What I can say is that Tristan has taken care of everything to make sure you’re safe."

Jumping up, I screamed, "Why do you keep saying that? I don’t care about being safe. All I want is to see Tristan!"

"I’m sorry, Nina. I wish I could say more."

"Then there is more to say. Where is he? Why can’t I at least see him?"

My bodyguards walked out, leaving me alone with Daryl. He smiled for the first time and said, "Nina, I can’t say more because Tristan hasn’t told me more. I don’t know where he is. All I know is that in the middle of the night he called me and told me he needed my help to make sure what he wanted to happen happened. That’s it."

"Did he sound…" I didn’t know how to say it. "Did he sound like he was okay? There was coke and…"

Daryl smiled again. "He sounded tired."

"Would you tell me if you knew anything else, like say, if he said anything about me other than that he wanted to know that I’m safe? Give me something."

"I work for Tristan, but I know how much you mean to him, so yes, I would. He said very little, Nina. All I know is that his first concern was for your safety."

I hung my head in sadness. "Thank you, Daryl. Did he say anything else at about anything I should do?"

"One last thing. Don’t try to contact your sister. She and her family are safe from Karl and his friends, but to make sure they stay that way, you can’t speak to her for a while."

"Did Tristan do that?"

Daryl nodded. "Yeah. They weren’t safe, even after she gave Karl your father’s notes."

"When is all this going to end, Daryl?"

Shaking his head, he shrugged. "I don’t know, but trust that Tristan won’t let Karl and his buddies get what they want."

I wish I knew what that awful man wanted. So much of this was still a mystery to me, and with Tristan gone, I didn’t have anyone to help me understand all of it.

Daryl handed me a slip of paper. "This is my number. Call me if you need anything. West and Varo will take care of your safety, and Jensen is here for you like he’s always been."

Nodding, I pressed a fake smile on my face. "Thank you, Daryl."

It seemed like I had men everywhere to take care of me except for the one I truly wanted standing next to me. The memory of those pictures of Tristan came back to me as I sat alone, and I found myself in the attic next to the trunk that held those images from so long ago.

I sat down on the wood floor and lifted the lid. Inside were letters and pictures from years before. I recognized the large portrait that sat on the bottom of the trunk. Pulling it out, I propped it against the inside of the lid and studied it in the faint sunlight streaming into the attic. Instantly, my eyes were drawn to the left side of the picture where Tristan’s father and brother sat. Hatred coursed through my veins as I stared at their faces. Even though Taylor was just a small child, I hated him. It was almost as if he wasn’t Tristan’s identical twin. Nothing about him reminded me of the man I loved. All I saw was the man who was to blame for that poor girl’s death.

Victor Stone sat behind Taylor smiling and happy. I hated him even more. My hands began to shake as they clutched the sides of the picture containing the two people responsible for my father’s death. Not just death. Murder. They’d murdered my father to save themselves. I wanted to scream—to find them and hit them until they felt like I did when I first heard my father was gone.

But I couldn’t. Fate had punished them before anyone else could. They were gone, taken from this Earth, and I’d have to learn to live with how much I hated them.

I couldn’t look at them anymore. My eyes filled with tears at the hatred inside me. This wasn’t who I was, though. I didn’t want to hate. I forced my gaze to the right side of the portrait where Tristan sat in front of his mother. Her face was placid, but something in her eyes made her look sad. She was beautiful, her eyes so much like Tristan’s now as I stared at them. They seemed to speak from the silence of the image. Had she known what her husband was like? Did she ever find out what Taylor had done, or had she remained blissfully ignorant like many women in her position?