Chapter 53: Damon Reid vs. Tristan Thomas: An explosive encounter…Lover’s tiff!

***

Damon sighed and looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was past three a.m. and Tristan was still tossing and turning.

With a sigh, Damon shifted closer to Tristan and slipped his arm around his waist, and pulled him to his chest, spooning his front into Tristan’s back. He leaned over to drop a kiss on Tristan’s cheek and rested his head right behind his. Then threading his fingers through the backs of Tristan’s, Damon whispered...

“Sleep.”

Feeling the solace of Damon’s arm around him, his breath fanning enticingly over the back of his neck, Tristan drifted into a peaceful sleep, leaving Damon to think about all that had happened the night before.

***

When they got back to their chalet from the club, Tristan had explained his relationship with Chloe to Damon, and ask him what he thought was the best thing to do. But Damon had told him to sort it out himself, adding that he trusted him to do the right thing.

“Much as I want to tell you what to do, I’m not going to, because I don’t want to influence your decision. It is obvious that you care about her. As you said, you two have been doing this for the past two years. That is enough time for people to get attached to each other. As for why you decided not to tell her you’re in town or coming, I don’t know. But you have to put things right Tris. Whatever you decide, I will respect it. I just want you to be happy.”

“You’re doing it again Damon.” Tristan had said, his eyes suspiciously bright.

“Doing what?”

“You’re not fighting for me.” His voice was hoarse.

“Baby…” Damon started but Tristan wasn’t done talking.

“Whatever I decide, you will respect? You mean even if I decide to date Chloe, you will respect it…because you want me to be happy. Really?” Tristan looked angry, hurt, and confused.

Damon raked his fingers through his hair, groaning with frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Tristan. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I don’t know shit,” Tristan said tightly. He was already confused thanks to Raoul's revelation, and Damon was not helping matters with his words. “And do you believe the crap that pours out of your mouth sometimes?”

“What the fuck do you want from me, Tristan? I can’t tell you what to do.” Damon threw his hands up in the air. “I’m not your fucking keeper. There are some decisions you have to make for yourself. I don’t have to like it, but I have to allow you to make your own choices as you ‘sweetly’ pointed out to me not too long ago.” Damon added sarcastically, giving the word quotations with his fingers.

Tristan froze. So that was it. Damon was acting this way because he had told him after the plane crash, not to think for him. Was this even the same thing?

“Fuck you, Damon.” Tristan had said quietly, quickly grabbing a t-shirt and storming out of the bedroom. “Maybe YOU should grow up.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Damon rushed out after him.

“None of your fucking business. After all, you are not my keeper.” Tristan pulled on the t-shirt as he walked towards the door leading outside.

“You know what Tristan,” Damon’s voice stopped Tristan, “at a point in everyone’s life, they have to face the consequences of their actions or inactions. You did go around fucking anything in skirt. I’m actually surprised you don’t have a bunch of little Tristans following you around. Maybe you did something right after all.”

That hurt. That hurt a lot. Tristan’s eyes blurred. He quickly closed them and prayed for composure.

Damon continued in a deadly quiet voice. “Now this particular one has come back to bite you in the arse. Be a man and sort it out yourself. Is that so difficult to understand?” Damon’s voice was low, throbbing with anger.

Tristan’s green eyes flashed with temper. “You egotistical, arrogant son of a…”

“I don’t believe insulting my mother is going to help this situation,” Damon cut in.

Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a humourless laugh. “You know what? You’re right.” Then he turned to go.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me Tristan.” Damon said stiffly, trying desperately to rein in his temper.

“Temper, temper,” Tristan tutted with a shake of his head. “Tell me something, Damon. Do you really want this?” Tristan flicked his forefinger between them, indicating their relationship.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Damon’s deep, rough voice rang through the tension-filled air.

“Well whilst you’re trying to get the meaning of that, let me try another question.” Tristan snarled.

He wanted to lash back at Damon. To hurt him just as Damon had hurt him with his words.

“It looks like you are in this for your personal agenda. Tell me, Damon, are you an avenging angel for all those girls I fucked? You’re here to give me a taste of my own medicine right? Maybe my punishment will be reduced as I made sure I didn’t bring any little ‘Tristans’ into the world.” Tristan said equally sarcastically, giving the word quotations with his fingers.

Damon groaned, seeing how badly his words had hurt Tristan and regretting it. “Tri…”

“I’m not done you asswipe. You’re obviously a very good actor. You’re in this just for the business, aren’t you? Why not link the families together to strengthen the business? But all the girls are already taken. Oh, there is Tristan. I don’t mind…I can fuck him. Anything for the bus…”

“You little prick,” Damon whispered, his voice cold. “You might want to shut the fuck up before you say something you can’t take back.”

“I’ve got a better idea. I’m outta here.” And with that, Tristan banged the door behind him and left Damon alone.

“Fuck!” Damon punched his fist into the living room wall in frustration.

Damon couldn’t believe it had come to this. Tristan made him so angry sometimes Damon had to suppress an overwhelming urge to shake him silly till his teeth rattled inside his mouth. But for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why he’d lost his temper so quickly. Of course, he hated the thought of Tristan choosing someone else over him. But he had faith in their love that Tristan wasn’t going to do that. The last thing he wanted was to impose his will on Tristan. The last time he had tried to do that, Tristan had almost died. If Tristan was going to grow up, he had to be allowed to make important decisions on his own.

Damon’s first thought that evening had been to forbid Tristan from ever talking to that girl. He wanted to lock both himself and Tristan in a box so that nothing in the world would touch them or mar their happiness in any way. But he knew that wouldn’t be possible.

And just like that, it hit Damon!

He had lost his temper and said all those hurtful things to Tristan because he was jealous. He had been jealous and angry right from the moment Chloe had flung herself into Tristan’s lap and kissed him. Angry at Tristan. Shit! And that slow dance, with Chloe, draped all over Tristan, making it no secret the two were intimate. It had been excruciating to watch.

“Oh my God.” Damon groaned, wishing he could take back all the mean things he had said to Tristan.

Damon knew he had to apologize to Tristan but also knew that wasn’t the right time as Tristan was too angry. He had to give him the time and space to cool off. Damon wasn’t worried about Tristan being out on the beach because there was security personnel all over the resort and Tristan would be safe.

He still stood by his reason for not helping Tristan make a decision on how to handle Chloe though. He could rather show his love and support by allowing Tristan to decide what was best for himself, and by God, that was exactly how he was going to play this even if it killed him.