“I guess,” I agree. “So, Tristan, what other crimes would you like to provide explanations for committing?”
“Well, the gun charges against me and my cousins were complete horseshit. I mean, Creed had just received a goddamn death threat. Only an idiot would’ve left his house unarmed after that.”
“I left my house without my gun.”
“Yes, but you have me for protection. And luckily for you, I’m not illegal to possess.”
“You should be,” I tease him.
After a few moments of silence, Tristan says, “Tell me about your family. Just because you grew up wealthy doesn’t mean you don’t have your own trauma. While you may look put together most of the time, I know there’s got to be more to you than the perfect exterior you strive to maintain.”
“I didn’t grow up with any trauma,” I declare. “But my life hasn’t been easy. My parents put a lot of pressure on me to not just succeed but to excel at everything I did. Growing up, I had tutors for every subject, a few instruments, even chess because whatever I did, I had to be the best at it, or they were disappointed. My father especially. Honestly, it felt like he was disappointed even when I was the best. Nothing was ever goodenough for him, and my mom just wanted me to marry someone rich and plan parties.”
“They sound like assholes.”
“They are. I try not to visit them except on the holidays. I get so stressed out about seeing them around Halloween, and it doesn’t let up until after New Years. They think I should be married by now and have a few kids who will be the prettiest, smartest children to ever walk the earth. Since I became the DA, they tell me how my approval ratings are low, and if I don’t shape up, I’ll lose my next election. If I do lose…well, I’ll never hear the end of it from my father. That’s why I’m still campaigning, looking for donors now instead of waiting until election year. I’ll need all the help I can get with television ads and billboards…”
“If you hate seeing them so much, why do you keep putting yourself through that hell on the holidays?”
“Because…well, it’s just seemed like a requirement. And they’re all the family I have, since I was an only child. There’s never been time for me to have a social life. Not in high school, certainly not in college, and I don’t think I spoke to anyone unless it was in the classroom while in law school. I don’t have any friends who just want to hang out without wanting something in return — a speeding ticket dismissed, a friend’s drug charges dropped…”
“Damn, sweetheart.”
“I thought once I graduated and started practicing that I could finally take a deep breath and relax a little, maybe even finally enjoy life. But my first year as a prosecutor in Boston, I realized that all the years in school were nothing, that I now had the responsibility to protect people’s lives. That a sexual assault victim might live in fear for the rest of their life if I fucked up and didn’t get a conviction. And I was just an assistant to the assistant DA in those cases!”
“That’s a lot of pressure.”
Nodding, I pull my coat tighter around me and admit something to him nobody else knows. Why not? He already has worse blackmail on me. “I had a nervous breakdown. That’s the only skeleton in my closet that could ruin my campaign if it came out. Or itwasbefore the sex tapes with you and then killing the detective.”
“You had an actual nervous breakdown?” he asks quietly.
“Someone found me on a subway one day. I had been riding for hours in a daze because I couldn’t get off and face the caseload on my desk. I refused to leave and had to be dragged off by a security guard. I just wanted to pretend I was someone else for a while, going somewhere different where life was easier, better. My parents came and picked me up. They refused to let the doctors hospitalize me. I was put on meds and had to take so much time off, so I ended up resigning. I told the DA there that I was moving for another position, when really, I was just trying to figure out how to keep going.”
“I saw you on the subway the other day.”
“When you were stalking me?” I try to recall when that was. I think it was days before the sex club.
“Yes. You got on, and I sat there and watched you for hours that night.”
“When I get really stressed out, I still go down and get on the subway with no destination.”
“Strange, filthy choice,” he remarks with a grin.
“Yes, but there are always people around, so I guess it’s better than being alone. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I met you and you wouldn’t stop lurking nearby.”
“I was obsessed. First, before we spoke, I was trying to figure you out, since I couldn’t talk to you. Then, after the night in the club, well, I had other reasons for wanting to be near you.”
“You didn’t stay away, even when I told you to.”
“Not the first time, but the second I did, and you nearly got killed,” he grumbles. “And I would’ve started stalking you again after a few good night’s sleep. I was practically a zombie by the time I got to talk to you. Definitely more insane than usual thanks to insomnia.”
“That’s your excuse for feeling me up within seconds of meeting me for the first time? Insomnia?”
“I was desperate to touch you and after weeks of wanting you. Then, there you were, finally within my reach. Even though I knew I was coming on too strong, too fast, I couldn’t control myself. You had made me crazy, and you didn’t have a clue who I was.”
“I’m sorry I accused you of arranging the shooting in the alley that night. It just didn’t seem plausible for a man I just met to risk his life to save mine. You setting it up, knowing you wouldn’t get hurt, made more sense. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me. And I couldn’t think of a single person who knows me who would have done it either. Not even my parents. I know my nickname is DA Cunt.”
“You might give the attorneys you work with and the criminal defense attorneys on the other side of the aisle a hard time, but you do it for the victims, right?”
