Tryst (6 page)

"Why is she so afraid of her mother, Ele? And don't feed me any bullshit. What could she possibly do that would send her daughter running for the hills?"

Before Ele can even give me an answer, shouting and commotion have us headed for the door. As I open the door, I come face to face with a pair of beady eyes narrowed in Ele's direction. "Where is she? Where is the little bitch? I know she's here. Did she really think she could just come back and I wouldn't find out? I told that little tramp she better not ever let me find her. I'll make good on my word, I promise you that. Now where is that pathetic little shit?"

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out this is Bentley's mother. I'm oddly grateful at the moment knowing Bentley is gone. No one should have to bear such hatred, especially not from their own mother. I wish I could say it was gratifying to know it really wasn't me Bentley was running from, but at the moment I'm more worried about this woman’s intentions.

Pushing Ele behind me I take a step towards this vile woman. "She's not here. She left earlier today, because she didn't want to miss her flight. She should be in the air by now, so I guess whatever it is you have planned will just have to wait until the next time she decides to visit."

I don't miss the scowl that crosses her over-inflated lips. Nor do I miss the words she utters under her breath as she walks away, "There won’t be a next time. This time I'll finish what I started."

The words leave a sickening feeling in my stomach. That woman hurt Bentley. I'm not sure how, but I'd bet my last dime she's the reason Bentley's hiding. Sure I heard the rumors throughout the banquet today. Everyone said she went into hiding after the murder, terrified some stalker would come for her too. She's definitely afraid of something coming for her, that much is evident. I close the door and turn back to a visibly shaken Electra, tears pouring down her face.

"It's my fault. She'll never leave Bentley alone now, not knowing she was here and got away. She got away once, and Darla won't allow it to happen again. She will hunt her down, Tryst. She's going to hurt her, and it's all my fault," she cries into my shoulder.

I try calming her down, but nothing I say makes a difference. I can't help Bentley. I don't even know where to look. "Ele, look at me, I need you to give me Bentley's address."

She shakes her head at me. I know she thinks if she tells me that she's betraying Bentley, but who the fuck else is going to help her?

I don’t really know what I plan to do even if I get Bentley’s address. It’s not like I can just show up at her door and say,
Hey remember me? I’m the fuckhead you swear assaulted you. So umm, your psycho mom showed up at Ele’s hotel room and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.
I have a feeling I’d get slapped with a restraining order before I got past the “Hey.” I’m not even sure why it’s bugging me so fucking much. She didn’t seem to have any trouble walking the fuck away.

Yet here I am worrying about her. Pacing across the room, it dawns on me there is someone else who knows where to find her- assuming he’s still in town. I remember Bentley mentioned Dante was planning to train with her yesterday, before the snow hit.

Grabbing the keys to the rental car, I head through town avoiding the minor traffic the snow caused. Another ten minutes and I'm pulling into a worn down building with a gym sign flickering in and out. I seek out the biggest dude, knowing Dante is the size of a tree. When I find who I'm looking for I walk up to him and ask if he's Dante.

"Who's asking?" The big guy questions back. This man really is big, and that's saying a lot since I stand at 6'4” with 250 lbs. of muscle behind me, and he makes me feel small.

"My name is Tristan, I'm a friend of Bentley's and I need to find her. So are you Dante or not?"

I have to tell you, being pummel-driven into a wall is a less than pleasant experience. Guess I know not to press this guy’s buttons.

“You aren't a friend of Bentley's. I know everyone in her life, and you sure as fuck aren't. Now, before I make your face a permanent part of my dad’s gym, you better tell me why the fuck you’re looking for her."

The way he says it, you'd think he's got a hard on for her, but thanks to Ele I know better. “Look, I know she trusts you, but she’s in some serious fucking danger. So if you can help me, I’d really fucking appreciate it.”

I know I’m coming across like a douchebag, but I don’t want to have a pissing contest with this dude.

I watch as he looks me over with suspicion before speaking. “What the fuck are you talking about, danger? The only danger Bentley would be in…”

I cut him off before he can finish, and complete that thought. “Is her mother. Yeah, I know. The psycho bitch decided to pop in after the author signing. She wasn’t too thrilled that she missed Bentley, and started spewing all kinds of crazy fucking threats. I don’t know how likely she is to try any of the shit, but I wouldn’t be standing in front of your ass right now if I didn’t think she was serious.”

Dante lets out a heavy sigh before replying. “She’s serious. That rotten bitch hasn’t given Bentley a moment of peace for as long as I’ve known her, and that’s a really long fucking time. She’s had it out for her for as long as I can remember, and she’s tried to make good on it a few times. Any idea how she found out Bentley was here?”

“Not sure, I just know she vowed to find her and make her life a living hell. She was pretty graphic in describing the shit she would put her through,” I said.

“Trust me, that evil bitch has already made her life a living hell, and you can’t get much more graphic than the shit I’ve witnessed her do. Bentley has more than her fair share of scars from her. Shit…” he said before taking a seat on the bench press in front of me, “Bentley has managed to keep under her fucking radar for six goddamn years. How the fuck did she manage to slip up now?” He asked more to himself than to me.

“I don’t think she slipped up,” I answered. “I think she might have been tipped off. I’m just not sure who the hell would know her here. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that the bitch knows she was here and is now on a manhunt.”

Shaking his head at me, he looks weary. “No, it doesn’t. Bentley’s gotten good at hiding herself. Hell, she’s even good at fighting her own battles, but Darla is a different breed of demon. That bitch gets to Bentley like no one else. She’s the only person who scares her, and the only person she doesn’t seem able to fight back against.”

Now I understand why he is aggressive at the mention of her name. After meeting Bentley, I wouldn’t think there is anyone she couldn’t hold her own against. But if she doesn’t even try to fight back, there is no way she can protect herself. That’s why he moved across the country with her. He feels he has to keep her safe.

Well shit, he’s not alone there.

“How long have you been watching over her?” I question.

I watch the surprise catch in his eyes, and I wonder if my assessment was wrong. “For as long as she’s been watching over me. We grew up together, and shortly after really meeting each other we clicked. I used to get bullied pretty badly as a kid. I was lanky and geeky. Everyone liked to give me shit, and a few times I found myself taking punches from some asshole who thought I was fair game. I was maybe nine when some little prick started wailing on me after gym class. Bentley pulled him off me and he turned to swing at her. She ducked, but then swung herself and slammed her fist into his jaw. The kid lost his balance and smacked his head into a locker. I got shit for having a girl fight my battles, but no one fucked with me after that.”

I chuckle as I imagine a pint sized Bentley knocking some kid out.

“So what, she beat some kid up in grade school for you, and now you think you owe her?”

Dante’s face grows dark and his voice chokes up as he answers, “I don’t owe her for the dickhead she beat up, or any of the little assholes she smacked around because of me. I owe her because when her mom found out she was suspended for beating that little fucker up, she beat the shit out of Bentley. Darla broke three of her fingers and several bones in her hand. I went by her house that night to thank her, but when I got there her sister came out and told me she was at the hospital. I wasn’t given all of the details, and I shudder to think of how she did it. What I do know, is she got that beating because of me.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, though it doesn’t really surprise me. She seems like the kind of person who would protect someone she cares about, even at her own expense.”

Dante and I talk for a while more, and it becomes apparent that he isn’t sure how well he would be able to protect Bentley from Darla. He isn’t too thrilled with the idea of betraying her trust, but he isn’t willing to compromise her safety either. He and I become quick friends that bond over a mutual need to protect a woman who seemed to hold something over both of us, and I finally get what I'm after, Bentley's address. I'm kind of glad she has this tree of a man looking out for her. It will be a lot harder to get to her through him.

Before leaving, I try to get some information out of Dante. I figure if anyone would know why Bentley was only willing to run, instead of coming face to face with a female version of Freddy Krueger, it’d be him. I can’t say what I was told makes me feel any better, though. Turns out Bentley did fight back, once.

She was fifteen, and she slapped her mother across the face in front of dinner guests for referring to her as a whore. Darla called the police, only instead of having her arrested and released the next day, the bitch went above and beyond. She talked some judge she was banging into Baker Acting Bentley. She had her locked up and put on anti-psychotics for a month.

Darla made sure she was put into a state run facility. Dante visited her a few times but said she was rarely lucid. He also says she was covered in bruises, but she wouldn’t tell him where they came from, at least not until she was released. Turns out a few of the orderlies were beating the hell out of her in there because she wouldn’t accommodate them in other ways. Hearing she wouldn’t let those fuckers violate her just proves my Spitfire is a fighter.

Dante said when she was finally released she had several scars from where the attacks escalated. Darla took perverse satisfaction in seeing Bentley beaten and broken. I guess that was when the obsession with making Bentley disappear began.

Bentley lashed out one more time at Darla. Before she took off into hiding, that fucking cock sucking bitch convinced that same piece of shit judge that Bentley attacked her. It was the reason no charges were brought against Darla for trying to strangle Bentley. The bitch put marks on herself to try and have her daughter locked away, only this time she wanted her someplace more dangerous. The charges were dropped, but outside the courtroom Bentley freaked out on both of her parents. Darla didn’t take too kindly to the public shaming.

Bentley was staying at Dante’s and he borrowed her car. Turns out the bitch tampered with the breaks. Dante got lucky, only sustaining a small fracture and a couple bruised ribs, but the car was totaled. It wasn’t a week later when Bentley started running for her life.

The trip back home feels like it is taking days instead of hours. My mind is running in a million different directions, and they all end up at the same damn place, Bentley. I can’t wrap myself around the idea of just walking away. Forty-eight fucking hours and it is like she is ingrained in my existence. I’m not sure what bothers me more, going back to my life and letting her go, or pursuing a girl who doesn’t want me and ultimately walking away.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need my head checked right about now. This is the most asinine thing I’ve ever done. After talking to Dante for the better part of a night, I learned a lot about my little Spitfire. Turns out she has some fucked up skeletons dancing around in her closet. I have no idea how bad her skeletons actually are though, until I arrive home seven hours later.

I have been home for less than a two hours, and am just falling asleep when the pounding on my door begins. The way they are trying to beat the fucker down you’d think the building is on fire. Answering it, though, is one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made in recent history. I still don’t know how the fuck she got my address, but standing here in my doorway is Darla Celeste.

“I know you're hiding that little bitch. You think I didn’t see the way you reacted when I mentioned her name? Your fucking my little whore daughter! You think I wouldn’t know. Your eyes lusted over like a bitch in heat. Where the fuck is she? Do you have the little slut tied to your bed? Come out here, Bentley,” she screamed into the hallway.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, lady. I don’t have anyone tied to my fucking bed and I’m not doing shit to your daughter. I met her once, and it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. Now if you don’t mind, it’s like two in the fucking morning and you need to leave.”

After shutting the door, it dawns on me just how unsafe Bentley really is. I mean I live a good six states away from where that signing was and this bitch just dropped onto my doorstep. The way she talked about her makes me sick to my fucking stomach. What kind of parent says that shit? I guess it could be true. I don’t exactly know the girl, but she doesn’t seem the type to be a whore. I highly doubt it now that I think about it. Both Dante and Electra said they’d never even seen her date.

It has taken two days of internal debating and another three to pack up the measly contents of my condo. After hiring the truck to drive the shit across the country, I stick my few bags in my backseat and take off. My best buddy, Cage, tried to talk me out of it- but I’m a stubborn son of a bitch. When I put my mind to something I do it, and I know this is the right decision. I am not leaving anything behind, other than some memories best left forgotten.