Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 110

TRIGGER WARNING❗️ PROCEED WITH CAUTION❗️

Wren

I stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the center table.

"Tristan? W-what? How?" I stammer, hands going cold.

His neck tilts eerily, and I gulp. "You sent your boy toy to beat me up, didn't you?"

"No!" I blurt. "I didn't, I'd never. B-but you're...alive?"

He spreads his arms. "Very much alive."

"He didn't kill you," I whisper. "All the accusations, the hands pointing at Ezra, blaming him for your death. But you're still alive?"

"He failed and it's going to bite him in the ass."

"You're sick. You're all sick!"

"I thought you loved me, Wren. I thought you actually–" he shakes his head.

"You left me Tristan. Made a fool out of me. Why?" My nose burns with unshed tears. "We were engaged!"

"Where's your ring?"

"What?"

"Where is your fucking ring, Wren?!"

I press my lips together, twiddling with my fingers. "You don't expect me to still keep a ring when there's no wedding."

He snorts, digs his hands into his pockets and holds up the familiar dainty ring.

My mouth dries. "Where...how did you get it? Ezra—"

"Your new boyfriend, huh?"

"He's n-not...it's not like that." I have to watch my words when it comes to my and Ezra's relationship.

After the anonymous texter, who knows what else could come out before we tell Ray?

"No? I could've swore I saw you both kiss one time. Or three?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He cackles. "Raymond, your brother, he doesn't know that his best friend is fucking his little sister, does he?"

I don't reply, and he waves me off.

"That's isn't why I'm here though." He waves me off. "You know, I went back to Seattle after the debacle. It was hard going back to the place where I was humiliated, my dignity stripped from me–"

"You hit me."

"Because you were being a fucking bitch!" He yells. "You needed to be put in your place. What makes you think you can just waltz into my wedding and cause a stupid scene?"

Tears fill my eyes, and my throat tightens. And here I was, looking for closure from a man who seems to be out of his mind.

"Why are you here, Tristan? Shouldn't you be with your wife? "

He stalks closer, and reaches for my hand. I jerk out of his hold.

He chuckles low, manically amused. "I'm here for you."

I scoff. "I'm not getting back with you."

"Don't flatter yourself." He rolls his eyes. "I'm here for revenge. Your stupid manwhore hurt me, and you let him. So I have to hurt you, to hurt both you and him. You see? Kill two stones with one bird or however the fuck you say it."

"What more do you want from us? You are part of a gang, and they have threatened us on your behalf! Hell, they've set our clubhouse on fire! Meanwhile you've been alive all these while, and they know it don't they?"

"They do. But none of us have really hurt any of you. Not Ezra, nor Raymond, and definitely not you. Isn't that a little bit unfair?"

My jaw tightens. "You started it."

"Yes." He nods. "And I'll finish it."

He takes a long stride toward me, and I dodge him, rushing behind the sofa. It serves as a barrier between us.

"Let all this go, please?"

"Then you have no idea who I am."

"You're right. I don't. You kept a huge part of your life away from me. You lied to me, you deceived me. What did I ever do to you?"

With all my might, I don't let the tears fall.

"Your existence hurt someone I care about." He rounds the sofa and I run to the next. "But then again, it didn't take you long to move on from me. Flinging yourself into the next available arms."

"Don't you dare blame me for that, Tristan!"

"When I saw you all lovey-dovey with the same man that did this to me—" he whips his shirt off, and I gasp. "I knew I had to pay you a visit."

Scars. So many of them.

They run up his chest and torso, and when he gives me his back, bile rises up my throat. Thick lines, thin lines, short and long ones crisscross each other in a web-like fashion.

It's horrible. Disgusting.

But it also looks like they're healing, most not all.

"I'm so sorry Ezra did this to you."

"He beat me up with sharp knuckle rings." His jaw ticks. "And you go ahead and cozy up with him? You gave him the ring I proposed to you with?"

"You cannot blame me for the consequences of your actions. I am sorry that this happened to you, but you brought it upon yourself. Ezra was defending me."

My phone blares again from his pockets and he yanks his out, scowling at the caller ID.

"Speak of the devil," he tsks, clicking it off. "Did you get my gifts by the way?"

I frown. "What gifts?"

"The dress you left at my place, and your side of our matching necklace? You know, that day at the mall—"

The memory comes back immediately, and my jaw drops in horror, eyes wide.

"You were the one in the hoodie. The man that bumped into me."

It's not a question. It's a confirmation to the familiar walking step, and the familiar cologne.

"Good girl, you're catching up."

But then the dress. The ring that's now in his possession.

"You were in this house," I gawk.

And I didn't know.

Tristan was in this house with me. He went up the stairs and dropped my dress on the bed..all the while with me inside the house.

He grins, stalking closer. "You should really be checking all the rooms before you get to bed. You're both poorly security conscious."

"Y-you slept? In this house? You—Jesus Christ, you're insane!"

"I am now. And you'll see just how insane I am when I'm done with you."

I'm stil not over it.

Ezra and I slept with an intruder in the house. We probably had sex too...did he...did he hear it?

"We—we don't have to do this, Tristan."

"Oh, we do."

Before I can blink, he's rushing toward me. I yelp, and run.

He chases me up the stairs, our feet pounding on the wood. As my hands wrap around Ezra's door handle, Tristan catches it.

His fingers curl around mine and he presses himself against me. "Gotcha!"

The word slides chillingly down my spine, sweat beading at my temples. My heart thunders against my chest, goosebumps scattering across my skin.

"P-please," I beg.

All the fight I was taught rushes through my mind, but for some reason, I don't know how to start.

But when he curls his hand around my waist and picks me up, I scream.

He marches down the stairs with me.

"Let me go!" I shout, scratching his hand. My nails dig into his skin, breaking it and drawing blood.

He flings me off him. "You stupid bitch!"

I land with a thud on the floor, my elbows scraping against the center rug.

Shit, that hurts.

He grabs me up by my hair, and I feel the sting of my scalp. I feel some strands of my hair pulling.

I kick his shin, and he lets me go.

"Stop it, Tristan!" I heave, glaring. "What the fuck is your problem?!"

His hand cracks across my face. Hard. My head whips to the side, and my teeth bites down on my tongue.

Blood fills my mouth.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me again." He wraps a hand around my throat, squeezing.

"I will speak to you however I want to," I grit out, "-you pathetic scum!"

His hand tightens further. "You, your brother and your boyfriend have gone away with way too much. And I'm so fucking sick and tired of it! Did you see what he did to my uncle Reginald?"

I don't respond. I physically cannot.

All my strength is used in trying to take his hands off my neck. But it's futile.

My lungs are fighting for air, my body slowly shutting down with how tight he squeezes.

But I still kick, and claw. I'm not going down without a fight.

Black dots form around my vision, fear creeping into my mind.

Ezra...please.

Tristan glares at me, a vein protruding from his neck.

The eyes I used to love so much, the eyes that were once filled with love for me, are now filled with so much hatred, disdain.

There's no softness, not even a little bit.

It's chilling, terrifying.

Almost like the last years we spent together didn't exist.

A tear finally rolls down my cheeks. "I...I regret ev-ever knowing y-y-you," I manage to spit out.

But the words don't come out as strong as I intended them to.

His eyes light up. "I have never loved you, Wren. You were always only a pawn."

And just like that, the door slams open.

"Wren!"