Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2)(76)

“I can’t really sue him for that, sweetheart. I just lost my temper, and that’s my go-to scare tactic. I would in a heartbeat though, if I thought we could win. That bastard deserves worse.”

I tried to pay attention, but my mind was just circling back to what I’d learned. “I lost my baby,” I whispered.

“I’m so, so sorry, Danika. I didn’t know you were pregnant, but I know you, and I know that, since you were, you wanted that baby. I’m so sorry.”

“And I can’t have any more.”

“No, my dear. I’m so sorry, and I know this is hard to think of now, but someday, when you’ve met the right man, and you’re at the right point in your life, you can adopt. You can still be a mother, Danika, just not in the way that you’d hoped for.”

I barely heard her, only focused on my pain, only focused on my loss.

I laid there, and felt as though my very soul seeped out of me with that loss.

I’d thought I was numb. Head to toe, heart and soul, numb. But alas, no, there was something left, something awful that fired up in my chest as Tristan walked into my hospital room, his face ashen.

I’d seen him heartbroken. I’d seen him reeling from loss. I’d seen him strung out, high, drunk, devastated, and out of his mind enraged.

But never had I seen him like this. He looked like a man who had lost his whole world.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to cave at the sight of him.

Outwardly, I was calm, but my insides had become a tempest, a great storm that I wouldn’t let Tristan close to. He couldn’t be allowed even a glimpse of it. I had to at least appear composed and resolved if I had any hope, any prayer, of making it through this.

“I just now heard about the accident,” he croaked out. “How are-er-are you doing okay?”

I shrugged, having the hardest time meeting his bright, shiny eyes set in his haggard face. I couldn’t meet them for more than milliseconds at a time, or I knew I’d be exposed. There was just no escaping his eyes for long. “I’ll live.”

“Are you in pain?”

I shrugged again. “I’ll live. I don’t really want to talk about it.” My tone brooked no refusal.

“That’s fine, that’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I thought that okay was a pretty generous term, but I held my tongue.

“Jerry told me that you didn’t want to see me. Is that true?”

It was difficult to get the word out. “Yes.”

He staggered back, visibly upset. His hand shot to his arm and began to scratch at a spot under his T-shirt. It took him a very long time to find his voice again.

Finally, the waiting was too much, and I closed my eyes, turning my face away.

“Did something happen that night? You were coming to see me. Did we have a fight? I saw that our picture was missing from my wall, but I don’t remember what happened. What did you come there to say to me?”

My mouth hardened. “Nothing important.”

“Danika, please—“

“Please, Tristan, please just go. We aren’t good for each other. Can’t you see that? After all that’s happened, isn’t that finally clear? I need to move on from you, and the only way that’s going to happen is if we stay clear of each other.”

“You’re wrong, Danika.”

“Listen to me, Tristan. You are bad for me. I am done.”

Horrible noises were leaving his throat.

I finally looked up to see him staring at me, the most devastated look on his face. He was scratching at his chest now, those low, harsh groans still coming out of him, as though escaping from deep in his chest. “Done, Tristan. Please go.”

I had to look away again, closing my eyes. I’d break for sure, if he didn’t leave soon.

I felt him watching me for a while before he spoke, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “Can I please have the picture back?”

“It didn’t survive the crash.” Like so many things.

Finally, mercifully, he left.

TRISTAN

Bev came at me like a Tasmanian devil. I’d never seen anything like it. A skinny white woman in her forties trying to take on a huge motherf*cker like me.

I just let her abuse me, holding still as she pounded on my chest and slapped my face. She was panting and crying by the time she finally got it out of her system, glaring at me, the wrath in her eyes daunting. This was a formidable woman, not in size, but in will. I had no doubt that if she wanted a thing done, it would happen just how she wanted it to. I wouldn’t have been all that surprised if she put a hit out on me.

She poked a finger in my chest, her voice very quiet, but shaking with fury. “You need to leave. She’s asked you to go, and so that’s what needs to happen. Before you go, though, I have a few things to say. Did you know that guy Dean was giving her a ride home? Did that happen with your knowledge?”

I grimaced. So much of the night was a blur to me, but I did recall screaming something along those lines to her. I was almost positive that had been my idea. “I did. I’m sure you know that Dean was my roommate.”

“Danika was dosed with Rohypnol. Do you know what that is?”

My entire body stilled.

He wouldn’t have, I thought, my mind racing.