Falling For You (Tristan Evans)

Chapter 4

Hours passed while me and Connor sat in Connors bedroom watching Harry Potter movies to try and take my mind off of the events from the night before. However, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the films, I couldn't. I felt vulnerable, stupid, scared. Who knew what could happen next?
Connor sighed. "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked gently; I shook my head.
"Not really." I whispered. Connor nodded and returned his attention to the film, but I could see him sneak a glance at me every few minutes.
Time seemed to be passing slowly. It felt like hours before Brad came to find Connor, when it couldn't have been more than a twenty minutes.
"Yo, Connor?" Brad said as he walked into Connors room. "You ready? James is waiting in the car. We've gotta go in five minutes to prepare for the hit tonight."
Connor's eyes widened. "Shit!" He groaned. "I forgot about that." He turned to look at me. "We've gotta go, you should be okay in here for a while." He explained.
"What about Tristan?" I asked, panic rising in my chest.
"Don't worry. He's gone out and won't be back for a while, if at all tonight." Brad assured me.
"Aren't you afraid that I might escape?" I asked, despite knowing that would be almost impossible. I didn't even know where this house was.
Brad scoffed. "You're not going to escape. Don't worry."
Connor smiled at me quickly before Brad pulled him through the doorway.
Everything was silent. Looking at the small digital clock beside Connors T.V, I noticed that it was twenty past one in the morning Sighing, I laid down on the bed staring blankly at the film that was still playing on the T.V.
While I was laying there, I could feel wetness on my cheeks from the tears I had subconsciously been crying. Sitting up, I vigorously wiped them away. 'Stop being so pathetic!' I thought to myself. 'Nothing's going to change what happened, you'll just have to deal with it.'
Eventually, I managed to calm myself down enough to get up and go downstairs to satisfy my loudly rumbling stomach. Upon entering the kitchen, I started for the fridge which I noticed was completely full. After spotting some chicken, I proceeded to make myself a sandwich with mayonnaise and salad bits that I found in the fridge.
That's when I heard the loud bang of the front door slamming shut, causing me to jump and drop the bag of tomatoes that I was holding.
At first, I thought Connor, Brad or James might have come back for some reason, until I saw Tristan turn round the corner and strut into the kitchen. He froze when he saw me and his permanent smirk faltered at the look of fear I was sure that I had on my face.
"Robin...I-" he started, but stopped when the tears stared to run down my cheeks again.
Images from the night before filled my mind as I stood frozen to the spot, shaking uncontrollably and barely able to breath.
Tristan took a step closer, causing me to step backwards until my back hit the counter and I couldn't move back any further.
"Look," he started again. "I never meant to do it, I was drunk. I'm sorry." Panic rose like a beast in my chest and I couldn't bring myself to speak.
"I would never do anything like that at any other time." He explained as he once again took another step forward. All I could do was shake my head. I didn't care about anything he had to say. I didn't trust him. More than anything, I didn't like showing that I was scared of him.
Swallowing the lump in my throat I opened my mouth to speak. "I just want to go to bed." What was supposed to come out confidently, came out as a hoarse whisper.
"Please," Tristan begged. "Just listen to me." Once again I shook my head. Then, mustering all the courage I could, I stepped away from the counter and tried again.
"I don't want to listen." I told him, slightly louder this time, but still not as confident as I wanted to sound.
"What are you being so stubborn?" His voice came out loud, almost a shout, causing me to shrink back into the counter again, fear taking over once more.
Tristan sighed. "Look, I-" he was cut off by the sound of phone ringing.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smartphone.
"What's up, bro?" He asked in a concerned tone when he answered it. There was a pause before he continued. "Shit!" He groaned as he placed his hand aggressively in his forehead. "Yeah, I'm at the house." Another pause as he glanced at me. "She's fine." Pause again. "Okay, just lay low for a while. We'll see you when you get back." One more pause. "Yeah, stay safe." He then hung up and looked at me.
"Right, you're not going to like this, but the others aren't going to be back for a few days."
"Why not?" I asked, terror taking control of my mind as I realised that it would just be me and Tristan until they got back and no one would be able to stop him if he got drunk again.
"They were spotted while on the hit, the police are after them and they can't risk leading them back here." Tristan explained, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around that word. Hit.
"What do you mean by hit?" I asked hesitantly, already knowing what the answer would be.
"I mean, they were on their way to murder someone for money." He explained a little too matter of factly.
"But I thought you were the one who killed people?" I asked, causing him to scoff.
"We all kill people. It's kinda what we do. We're fugitives."
"Why?" I asked, curiosity filling me.
"That," he started. "Doesn't matter." Venom laced his voice; I could tell he didn't want to talk about it, so I decided to shut my mouth. I didn't really want to make Tristan angry.
"Sorry." I said quietly. He shook his head. "Don't worry. It's nothing important."
I couldn't help but wonder what had happened that had effected the boys so much that they turned to crime. Especially Tristan. I knew he couldn't have always been this hard faced and, well, evil. It was obvious that whatever had made the boys turn to crime seemed to have affected him the most as he was the only one one of the boys who was completely void of real emotions except for two - anger and hate.
"Look," he said after a moment of silence. "I know you don't want be stuck here with me, but you don't have much of a choice so you're gonna have to deal with it."
"Oh, come on." I scoffed. "You'll probably shoot me before the end of the night." A part of me was scared to death, because I knew it was probably true, but another part of me was filled with doubt. After all, if he was going to kill me, why was he apologising for what he did? I sighed as he opened his mouth to reply.
"I'm can't." He told me simply. "At least not yet." The last sentence sent a shiver down my spine, but also made me wonder why he couldn't kill me. Was it because the others didn't want him to? No, I doubted he would listen to them. Maybe he felt guilty? I didn't think he could feel guilt. Not really.
"You can just do what you want, but don't get in the way and don't be too loud." Tristan told me as he plonked himself down on the sofa and turned the T.V on, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I decided to return to Connors room without my food as I couldn't stand to stay in the same room as Tristan for much longer. As I was walking up the stairs I couldn't help but overhear something that made my blood run cold.
"-the sixteen year old has been missing for 24 hours. She was last seen at a friends party at 11:32 last night. We have a statement from her friend who was also the last person to hear from her."
"I feel responsible for her disappearance," a familiar voice rang through my ears causing me to freeze in place. "If I hadn't have persuaded her to come to the party with me and then left her there, she would probably still be here."
I turned around and practically ran to the front room; unable to breathe when I saw the TVs screen.
In bold writing at the bottom of the screen were the words 'Breaking News!' Above this, the screen was split with one side showing a picture of me from my last birthday with my ebony hair flowing around my shoulders, a huge smile on my face. The other side of the screen showed a live broadcast of a well known reporter comforting a crying Jennifer.
"I'm so worried about her. She's not the sort of person who would run away from home, no matter what! She was so comfortable with life."
Seeing Jen in this state was torture. "Oh, Jen!" I sobbed, making Tristan jump slightly before he turned to look at me, his face blank of emotions as usual.
"Robin-" he started but I just shook my head.
"She blames herself for this!" I yelled. "She thinks that she's the reason that I'm missing, but she's not! You are. All of you. You kidnapped me and now my best friends blames herself for your stupid actions." I couldn't contain the anger and fear and guilt that was filling me and Tristan didn't object to anything that I said. He just looked down slightly.
"I'm sorry." Was all he could say.
"You're sorry?" I asked incredulously. "You keep saying that, but you don't mean it. Your voice is monotone, your face is blank, and you're just completely void of emotions. You tried to rape me last night, Tristan! Or don't you care? You wanted to kill me the second you saw me, so what's stopping you? Why don't you pick up the gun right now, hold it to my head and shoot me, because I honestly don't care anymore!" I wasn't thinking straight and everything I said was in the heat of the moment, but it was all true.
Tristan moved quickly and within seconds he was standing in front of me, his face full of sudden anger. He towered over me.
"You need to learn to watch your mouth!" He growled.
"Or what?" I asked, trying to keep myself calm and confident.
Tristan grabbed my hair tightly and pulled me up causing pain to take over my scalp. "Oh, you don't want to find out!" He threatened me before throwing me down towards the floor. "Is that enough emotion for you?" He added rhetorically, before returning to the sofa and changing the channel.
Quickly, I got up and rushed upstairs, trying and failing to keep my fearful and pain filled sobs as quiet as possible. Once I got upstairs, I rushed into Connors rom and closed the door before slumping down on the bed and allowing all the emotions that were filling my head and had been for longer than I remember pour out. Tristan's violent actions brought back so many memories of the past. So many memories of him! I hadn't felt so vulnerable and weak for so long, but Tristan turned me back into that naive girl I was a couple of years ago. I hated it, I hated him, and I was slowly beginning to hate myself again.

Tristan's PoV

All I could hear were Robins cries filling the house; the worst part about it was that I didn't feel guilty. Everything she had said was true. Every single 'I'm sorry.' That came out of my mouth was a lie and I hated that. All I wanted was to feel bad for hurting her, to feel guilty for being a prick, but I couldn't. Not since they changed me. Not since they fucked up my mind and made impossible for me to feel anything but anger, hatred and loneliness. Because if them, I had spent the last four years of my life feeling nothing but these stupid emotions and I missed feeling everything else. I missed feeling, happiness, love, nervousness. I even missed feeling sad, because to feel anything other than what I did, would be great no matter what emotion it was.
I picked up an empty glass that was sitting on the table and threw it across the room. Watching it shatter into a thousand pieces as it hit the wall was my way of calming down.
Some old horror movie was playing on the tv as I realised that the whole house was completely silent. Robins cries had stopped. Curios filled me and I decided to go and see if she had calmed down. I wanted so badly to feel regret for hurting her, but I couldn't. Maybe, I could explain to her what had happened to me. Tell her about how the others had found me in that horrible place and helped me escape, only to find that I was a cold blooded murderer. That I didn't want to be like this, but I couldn't help it, maybe she would be able to stand being around me for a small while until the others got back, so I didn't have to feel so lonely anymore. I hated feeling lonely. It was the worst of the emotions that I felt.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I went instinctively to Connors room and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again, but there was still no answer. I decided to try the door and found it unlocked.
The first thing I noticed when I entered the room, was the sound of a running tap coming from the en suite.
"Robin?" I called as I walked over to the door, but once again there was no reply. That's when something caught my eye. On the floor was a scrap of paper with loopy handwriting scrawled on it. I felt my blood run cold when I saw what it said.
'Connor,' it read.
'I'm sorry, but being around Tristan is a constant reminder of a horrible time I went through in my life. And I can't live in constant fear of him anymore. I can't continue knowing that I'm going to be killed in a much more painful way at any point. And most of all, I can't live knowing that I'm never going to see my family again and regretting not being able to make up for being a difficult teenager.
Robin x'
"Shit!" I whispered before throwing the note down and banging on the door. It wouldn't open, so I began kicking it and trying to break it down by throwing all of my weight onto the door, until eventually the hinges gave way and it swung open.
Immediately, I saw Robin laying fully clothed yet face down in the water. My first instinct was to pick her up and lay her down on Connors bed. I checked for a pulse, but couldn't find one, so I began CPR. After 30 chest pumps, there was still no response, so I parted her lips and began mouth to mouth. When that didn't work, I repeated the same routine but she still wouldn't wake up.
I shook her. "Robin, you need to wake up!" I was just about to give up when she suddenly began coughing and spluttering. She took a deep breath of air before snapping her eyes open.
"Thank God!" I breathed just as Robin seemed to fill with realisation.
"Oh my God." She whispered. "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I just did that. I could have died, what the hell was I thinking?" She said as she began crying again.
"Its okay." I explained to her.
She couldn't have been thinking straight, because the next thing I know, her arms are around me and she's crying into my chest continually whispering 'I'm sorry' over and over again until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
For a split second, I couldn't help but feel something different. I couldn't quite place my finger on what it was, but I could have sworn that in that moment I was feeling a mix of emotions that I had forgotten even existed. But after a second, those feelings vanished and were replaced by the same old lonely, angry feelings as before.