Page 16 of Tristian (The Doherty Mafia)
I thought he’d act neutrally. He hadn’t given me any reason to make me think he was on my side.
He’d pushed me away earlier in the day. He made it clear he didn’t want our relationship to go any further than it had already. He wanted to keep things simple between us. So why did he show his support for me?
That was one of the questions on my mind when we left the room.
His family was done with me. Even though they hadn’t given me any verbal confirmation of support, it was obvious they believed my story. By the end of the story, it was almost like we were all friends.
I’d felt a real sense of camaraderie amongst the brothers. They laughed at each other and with each other. They were the kind of family I’d only heard and read about in movies and books. As an only child with parents who’d always been overly protective of me—I’d never known that kind of family life.
I left the Dohertys feeling a little lighter on my feet. A surprising feeling since they were still the mafia.
I had to remind myself who they were because I’d forgotten.
They seemed so…normal. Warm. Trusting and friendly.
Isabelle was right. They looked intimidating, big, tall and muscular, but that wasn’t what they were like with each other.
Even Tristian had loosened up a bit around his brothers. Their father was clearly the boss. The one who was respected and who called all the shots, but he was also respectful and kind.
I was almost sorry to leave their company.
I considered asking Tristian if I could go and say bye to Isabelle before we left, but I decided against it.
I had to be careful and not get ahead of myself.
“Where are we going now?” I asked as we left the Doherty house.
“Home,” Tristian replied as he walked ahead of me.
Suddenly, a warm glow spread in the middle of my chest. Home? Our home? Was it possible that’s what he’d meant?
“I brought a pizza for you…for us, earlier. We didn’t get a chance to eat it,” Tristian said, once we were inside the apartment.
He locked the door behind him, checking the windows like he was surveying the neighborhood. I wanted to tell him not to worry. Aldo surely would’ve made himself known by now if we were being followed, right?
I only hoped he’d given up on me. Hopefully, he didn’t care.
There was a nagging voice in the back of my head that kept saying it couldn’t be true. I’d done something unforgivable. I’d escaped and taken one of their prisoners with me. He wasn’t going to just forget about that.
However, for now, I felt safe.
I felt safe because of Tristian and the way he looked at me. The way he stood beside me and watched over me.
“Thank you. A pizza sounds amazing!”
I went to the kitchen and found the box there on the table. Tristian brought two cans of beer out of the fridge and placed them on the table too.
There was something so ordinary and normal about the scene—it warmed my heart again.
I tried to be ladylike as I ate the slices of pizza, but I failed miserably at it. I was very hungry and just ended up stuffing my face.
Tristian smirked as he watched me eat, and I was surprised to find I was comfortable enough around him not to care.
“So, what now?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“What do you mean?”
“What has your family decided about me?”
Tristian’s eyes glowed. “What do you think they’ve decided?”
“I don’t want to make any assumptions. I wouldn’t want to be disappointed.”
“I think they bought what you’re selling,” he replied, sitting back comfortably.
My eyes darted to the way he held the can of beer. His big strong hands with those thick fingers that knew exactly how to touch me. The color rose in my cheeks and I had to look away.
“I’m not trying to sell anything. It’s the truth.”
He shrugged. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“And…what about you? Do you believe me now?”
“I’m not here to make any personal decisions. I’m supposed to keep watch, and that’s what I’m doing. Whatever decisions are made by the Dohertys are made collectively, as a family.”
I glared at him for an answer. Why wouldn’t he commit?
Why was it so hard for him to say he trusted me? What more would I have to do?
“Okay, so what happens next? Is there a plan? Is your family going to protect me from Aldo Baron?”
“We’re doing that already. You’re here, you’re alive, and I’ll keep it that way.”
Our eyes met and I tried searching for something in his. Something that told me he actually cared—more than just as a job.
Why did I want to be more than just a job to him? Why did it matter?
