Swapped Fate

16: Transgressions, Mistakes and...Apologies?

From that completely sudden and staggering experience with Tristan Devereux in the Orc alley, I gathered a few things. First and foremost was that the Devereux chap was no ordinary chap, but a bounty hunter with no nerves when it came to firing guns and spilling blood.

It was a bit chilling to witness that side of him, and it left me with a number of questions. One of them was that if he got an offer for a criminal wanted dead or alive, how would he proceed? Did he have a moral code?

Sure, he was obnoxious and insensitive, but was he an actual sadist with no regard for human life?

Because I was unsettled about all these thoughts with no answers, I decided to pose them to Tristan’s partner in crime. The old yet fit man who escorted me to the mansion was of no help whatsoever.

That was another thing I gathered; Tristan Devereux seemed to love his ‘mysterious persona’ so much, he either gave orders to Mr. Blond not to reveal any information about him, or it was implied that he wouldn’t.

I asked everything—from the nature of their relationship to the kind of hunts Tristan carried out, but the man said nothing. Not even his name. I called him Mr. Blond because, well, what else would I call him? It was certainly a better option than Mr. Mysterious-man-who-poofed-out-of-thin-air.

**
It was ironic. The aim of that walk had been for me to unwind, and yet I was more bothered than ever because of that walk. I could not stop thinking about all that had transpired while on that walk, and it raised the question; who was Tristan Devereux, really? Come to think of it, I knew nothing about him save for the fact that he was a scumbag.

But did I want to know? Did I care?

Ordinarily, I ought not to have cared, since it wasn’t my business. He wasn’t my business and I wanted nothing to do with him.

And yet…

I wanted to know more about him. What I witnessed sparked my curiosity and that’s all it was—curiosity. I only hoped I wouldn’t be devoured by my own hunger for answers in the process.

**

That night, Tristan did not show up for supper with the rest of the family, but he did show up in my bedroom out of the blue like a bloody thief. Almost gave me a heart attack when I returned from the lavatory and saw him standing perfectly still in the corner of my bedroom, watching me like a jaguar stalking its prey.

“Don’t you think you’ve startled me enough for the day?” I chastised, placing my hand on my hip. “How can you just show up and hide in my bedroom corner like that?”

“I was not hiding,” he rebutted. “I am very conspicuous at the moment.”

“Even so. Knocking on my door would have been the more appropriate measure, yes?”

“No.” He shrugged. “Door was open so I took it as an invitation.”

I frowned, but once the initial scare dissipated, I was left with the reality of the situation. The person I was currently most curious about stood in my presence.

Aware of everything that had happened until now, it seemed surreal that he would intentionally look for me. I knew it was only natural that he would come see me especially since something so significant that it could shift the dynamic between us had occurred, but then again this was Tristan. He didn’t flow with what was natural.

And hence, I just had to ask, “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

He must have expected my question, and yet he flinched in discomfort and hesitated as if he had no answer.