Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 65

Kevin's eyes flew open as he gasped in the darkness. He stared up at nothing, disoriented and covered in perspiration. He'd been in the throes of a nightmare - not the kind where you find yourself falling or naked and not the night terrors that had you running from monsters or lost in the darkness. The horror of this dream was based in psychological fear. It was familiar.

He'd had the same dream two years ago - or parts of it anyway. The major difference was that he now recognized all of the players in his dream. Once again, Tristan was outside of their home in Kentucky with the same two small children he had dreamed about before. Like before, she was pregnant and wearing the pink camisole. She still carried Tropicana roses and boughs of honeysuckle. Again she murmured 'I bruise so easily, Kevin...' , but this time he knew that the small children were Ben and Mallory. Kevin had awakened before the plane appeared. This was the first time he could recall having a recurring nightmare. The impact of the dream itself coupled with the realization that he'd had this dream before was disconcerting and frightening. The house had never seemed so quiet and empty.

He sat up from the sofa and dropped his face into his hands for a few minutes while he got his bearings and tried to remember how he got here. He had no idea what time it was. A light was on in the in the back of the house and so he pulled himself up and shuffled towards the brightness. His throat was dry, his legs felt weak. It took some effort to move himself towards the kitchen.

Kevin poured himself a large tumbler of water and drank it down quickly. Then he poured another, trying to quench his fierce thirst. He turned and leaned against the counter, drinking more slowly, taking deep breaths. His heart was still pounding. The blue digital numbers on the microwave read 4:02 AM. What time did we get home? I must have passed out... It was when he went to put his glass in the sink that he spotted Tristan's purse leaning against the coffee maker. The end of a sheet of buff-colored paper stuck out from the top. The list...

It was coming back to him now - the dinner party, Eminem, Mason, Grammys, bourbon, cocaine and cucumbers. Kevin reached into his pocket and felt a stab of guilt when his fingers felt the small box there. He had bought Tristan a charm for her bracelet - a golden heart covered with pink sapphires. It was an anniversary gift. Their anniversary - Kevin glanced at the clock one more time - was yesterday. No golden heart, no time alone, no sex on the beach, no time to cherish...

He peeked in on the children before continuing on down the hallway. They were both sleeping like angels - Mallory on her tummy with her thumb in her mouth, Ben on his back, arms wide and mouth open. Dear God, they were so precious to him! One of Kevin's fears was they would never realize that. He watched them for a few minutes after recovering them with the blankets they had kicked away and then left their room and headed down the Mexican tiled hallway to his and Tristan's bedroom. He halfway expected the door to be closed and locked but it wasn't. The door was open and from his spot in the hallway, he could look in and see the shadow of Tristan lying on the huge bed, curled into a fetal position. This is how she slept when she was alone. No spooning. No tangled legs. No sleepy caresses.

Snippets of the evening's conversations assailed his mind as he watched her sleep. He had offered her little support; more concerned with the impression she was making than with her feelings - more interested in getting high himself than lifting her up. The cocaine had created paranoia. He had been paranoid about Tristan making a fool of herself, about her making a fool of him, about Asa... He had viewed her as a threat and not as a support - as a competitor, not a partner. A liability instead of an asset.

Kevin walked over to a small table that sat beside an overstuffed chair. A small milkglass fairy light sat on the table and he lit it. A soft glow filtered through the room, enabling him to see her more clearly. She lay facing the edge of the bed so Kevin stepped over to her and bent down to examine her face and read her body.

She was wearing a short, thin, alabaster gown. It was almost the same color of her skin. Kevin reached up and touched the capped sleeve that had dropped off her shoulder. The fabric felt soft and slick between his fingers. Her arms were drawn up tightly against her breasts and her knees were drawn up towards her stomach, causing the gown to catch and puddle at her hips. His eyes traveled from the curve of her hip, to her thigh and then down the length of her calf to her feet. Shiny pink polish decorated her toes. Like his babies, she had kicked the covers away.

Most of her hair had fallen behind her shoulders but a few strands curled across the side of her face. When Kevin gingerly lifted them, he could see that they covered the streaks of tears that she had shed sometime earlier. He sighed deeply and stood to remove his clothing. I shouldn't have had so much to drink - shouldn't mix alcohol with coke... He left his clothes in a heap and went around to the other side of the bed, wondering if she would respond to his presence when he climbed in beside her.

She made no movement but lay still and silent, her back to him as he scooted himself across the mattress and folded his body against her small frame. A small, unnamed fear was realized when he felt her unconsciously stiffen at his touch. He wasn't afraid of her anger. It was her disappointment in him that was hard to bear. It wasn't so much what he said or did tonight that was hurtful but more what he didn't say or do. It never occurred to Kevin that drugs had any part in what had happened tonight. Now that he was sober, he felt the remorse of responsibility but believed that it was rooted in weariness and outside pressures. When he was high, he blamed Tristan's naiveté or presumed manipulation. He never considered that his cruel thoughts and actions could be chemically induced. That would mean that the drugs had control and not him. Personal guilt was less painful to him than the realization that he had permitted a line of white powder or a bottle of pills to transcend his authority. Kevin was already in denial.

He wanted nothing more than to gently push her to her back and love her, not for his own gratification but for her reassurance. His own comfort would be found in her response. Kevin closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against her shoulder, recapturing the images and sounds of previous intimacies. He could almost feel her touching him; her fingers lightly stroking his hardness and then brushing across his glans with a maddeningly slow hand, gently teasing him into ecstasy. He could almost hear her speak his name, the syllables reformed by her moans and whispers of urgency. He could almost see her eyes change color with her excitement, becoming lighter and brighter as he brought her nearer to orgasm.

Kevin wrapped his arm around Tristan's waist and held fast.

"I'm sorry, baby. So sorry..." he whispered into her hair.

Tristan still lay quietly on her side in her sleeping position. She hadn't moved since Kevin entered the room. But now her eyes opened and she stared straight ahead. Kevin burrowed against her back and finally drifted back into sleep not realizing that she had heard him.

*****

"Oh my God, Nick! Look at this!"

Holly flapped the newspaper at Nick from across the table, causing him to drop his spoon back into his bowl of cereal. Lucky Charms and splatters of milk splashed across the surface and onto his shirt.

"Jeez, Hol! What?" Nick fussed while using his shirtsleeve to wipe up the mess. "We at war? You win the lotto? What?" he asked irritably.

Holly paid him no mind. She was still reading. "Grammy nominations! Look!"

Nick suddenly perked up, quickly forgetting about his spilled breakfast. He had forgotten that nominations were due to be announced.

"Oh Man! Don't tell me! Don't tell me, Hol! We got another nod, right? Am I right?" Nick grabbed the paper out of Holly's hands and began a frantic search for the list of nominees.

"Hey!"

"Where is it, Holly? Am I on the right page?" Nick's eyes darted haphazardly across the newsprint as he licked his lips in anticipation. "Did we did nominated for best album? No! Don't tell me!"

Holly shook her head in exasperation. "Don't worry. I won't."

It took Nick a second to catch Holly's implication. When he did, his brows furrowed and his excitement faded.

"What? We didn't get nothin'?"

"I'm sorry, hon..."

"What are you so excited for, then?" Nick paused as he considered the possibilities. The one he grabbed did not make him happy. "No. Not them! Don't tell me they got nominated..."

"Don't worry. I won't tell you that, either!" Holly laughed.

Nick threw the paper back at her, exasperated. He didn't have his glasses and hadn't put his contacts in. He couldn't read the page anyway.

"Who, Holly?" Then Nick had a brainstorm. He would stop Holly's teasing. "Oh, I bet I know!" he grinned. "My girl, Britney! What did she get? Best female performance? She sure deserves it!"

Nick's ploy worked wonderfully. Holly's amusement evaporated.

"Yeah?" Holly hissed. "Best performance for playing like she's a virgin and trying to convince people that her tits aren't manufactured by Dupont!"

"Awww, you don't know they're fake, Hol. Not for sure..."

"Believe me, Nick. Nobody grows four cup sizes in six weeks!"

Nick threw up his hands in surrender. Arguing about Britney's boobies would not be beneficial to him in any way and he had the good sense to recognize this.

"Okay, baby, okay. I believe you! Now, tell me who you got so excited about getting a nomination?"

"Tris!" Holly laughed. "Tristan was nominated for performance and the CD she did was nominated for Best Album - in the classical category, of course..."

"Well, damn! That's great! You gonna call her later? It's still early out there..." Nick smiled thoughtfully for a moment as he let his mind wander. "I'll bet Kevin is bustin' his buttons..."

Nick's remark caused Holly to grow thoughtful as well. That was one of the reasons she wanted to call Tristan. She hoped that Kevin was excited for his wife but Holly remembered how he danced around the concert issue and she had reason to believe that he wasn't thrilled when Tristan made the CD to begin with. A Grammy nomination would garner more attention for her and if she should win, demands for her talent would increase. Holly also knew how much the group wanted a Grammy of their own and hoped that wouldn't create any problems between Kevin and Tristan. It shouldn't. He loves her.

*****

"I can cancel, Tris, This isn't that big a deal."

"No, Kevin. Don't. This whole awards thing is just a luncheon. The media probably won't even be there. You go on and do the taping. You need to be there, especially since y'all aren't touring this year. I'll be fine."

"You still gonna go? If I'm not here, I mean?"

Tristan stopped her stirring and turned from the sauce that was just beginning to simmer. She wasn't sure she understood the question.

"What do you mean?", she asked, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "Why wouldn't I go?"

Kevin shrugged and pushed his hair behind his ears before shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"I don't know... I just didn't think that you'd want to go alone. Without me. You know...?"

Hmmm... Tristan could see where this was going. The picture became a little more focused with each remark. Kevin was struggling to be rational and fair but he could barely get out of his own way. Diplomacy wasn't his strong suit and it wasn't in his nature to beat around the bush for too long.

"I would like for you to go with me, but I really think you need to be in New York." She turned back to the sauce and waited for Kevin to continue down a potentially rocky path.

"I guess you'll get a chance to see a lot of old friends and all..."

"Yes, I hope so..."

"But you shouldn't go alone...unescorted..."

"I won't..."

Her unexpected reply seemed to momentarily stun him. Tristan was waiting for Kevin to go ahead and ask the question - put words to what he was wondering. He, in turn, was waiting for her to volunteer further explanation. After a prolonged silence, she took the saucepan off the burner and turned back to him again, crossing her arms and waiting patiently. Kevin's hands were still in his pockets but now he was rocking on his bare feet, frowning down at the floor. Then he lifted his face and their eyes met. Tristan hadn't expected to see emotional conflict in his expression. She was prepared for anger or frustration. At the very least, she had expected some good, old-fashioned 'pissiness'. What she got instead was not a glaring stare but a soul-piercing gaze. He was searching her heart, not completely confident that he would find what he needed there.

Holly had called her on the day after their anniversary. Although Tristan tried not to give it away, she suspected that Holly had caught some of the tension she had tried to hide. Holly had learned not to dig too deeply unless invited but Tristan had not been ready to issue that invitation. Things had still been chilly between her and Kevin at that time and she had not reached a comfort zone that would allow her to unload.

Since that night, Kevin had been trying really hard to make amends for ruining their anniversary. It had taken several days but they had managed to reconnect. Things were almost back to normal and Tristan thought it was no mere coincidence that Kevin had also been spending less time partying and 'making the rounds'. There had been some schmoozing but Kevin had been spending large blocks of time at home writing. They had also seen Mutt who was in LA helping to produce some R&B tracks to be sung by a new group of young, black artists. He had invited Kevin to the studio and, as a result, Kevin had been afforded the opportunity, not only to do a little producing, but also to meet many people that he had long admired like Smokey Robinson and Billy Joel.

Kevin was happy. Tristan was happy. Neither of them wanted to screw things up right now but Kevin still clung to many of his old insecurities. The Backstreet Boys had been apart for two months and they needed, not only to touch base with each other, but to reach out to their fans as well and reassure them that they were still a team.

The rest of the group had been particularly worried about Kevin and his lack of contact with them. His interest seemed to have waned somewhat resulting in an isolation they didn't understand. Brian didn't talk about it much and Nick refused to acknowledge that anything threatening might be happening. He preferred to believe that Kevin was just busy exploring other avenues - avenues that would ultimately benefit all of them. After all, a captain never deserts his ship. AJ was the one who was the most openly affected by these changes. They had agreed to take a year. He hoped that hadn't been a mistake. They couldn't watch each other's backs when they were thousands of miles apart and AJ felt that Kevin's back needed watching.

The group had been scheduled to appear on Letterman. Jive had insisted and the Boys were still under contract. The day of the taping was also the day that Grammy awards would be given in the classical, technical and world music categories. Kevin and Tristan had discussed the conflict and come to a mutual decision. Now, Kevin seemed to be hedging a bit. The awards and taping would be the day after tomorrow and Kevin was in need of reassurances that he still felt that he didn't deserve to ask for. Tristan realized how difficult this was for him and decided to cut him some slack.

"I won't go alone," she finished. "Mason will take me and see that I'm taken care of..."

"I thought he was supposed to go to New York with Jack and me..." Tristan thought she caught a hint of relief in Kevin's voice.

"He was, but he decided that he would stay here with me while you're gone and then we'll fly to Florida together and meet you all there on Wednesday."

She watched as Kevin worked through his predictable approval process, evaluating the proposed course of action and trying to pinpoint any specific problems. Then he sighed and nodded and turned to leave.

"I guess that'll be okay.." he said over his shoulder as if he had been asked to authorize the plan. "I'll be in my office..."

Tristan smiled at his back as he walked away. She knew that Kevin's real concern was Asa, although neither of them dared mention it. The last thing Kevin wanted was for her to end up at the Grammys on Asa Whitmore's arm. Tristan had learned not to waste time arguing or defending her feelings for Asa. It wouldn't matter. Rationality had no place in Kevin's feelings for that man. He would never like or approve of him.


CHAPTER 66

"Well, how do you like it?"

Tristan studied her reflection in the mirror. This awards ceremony was a precursor to the 'big' show, which would air live on Sunday evening. A late luncheon was being held in the ballroom of the Beverly Hills Hotel at which time nominations would be read and awards doled out. She wasn't sure how to tell Mason that the dress he had picked out for her might be .... well, inappropriate.

The bodice of the midnight blue dress was very tightly fitted from the slight vee at the bust to her hips, reminding Tristan of the corset that Mammy had tightened on Scarlett in the barbecue scene from 'Gone With the Wind'. The skirt flared slightly when it reached her bottom but it was on the short side. It was also pretty low cut and even though the dress had spaghetti straps, Tristan wondered if they would hold, should she sneeze or get choked. She needn't have worried. The bodice had enough boning to hold everything in place. The straps were practically an afterthought. The dress was very expensive but Tristan thought it looked a little like 'Christian Dior meets Frederick's of Hollywood'. It kind of looked like skirted underwear.Lord...

Mason had selected her shoes, too, which, as usual, were very high and strappy. He had piled her hair on her head in a casual fashion. Long tendrils trailed down her back and along the sides of her face.

"Come over here," he commanded. "I need to trim you a little."

Mason grabbed a couple of gift bags he had brought in with him and guided Tristan over to the window where the light was better. Then he whipped out a pair of cuticle scissors and began tugging at the loose strands of hair that fell down Tristan's back. He was already snipping before she realized what he was doing.

"Hey, Vidal!" she shouted as she jerked her head away. "What in the hell are you doing? Are you a beautician now?"

"Stylist!" Mason frowned. "Listen to me, Miss Tris! You haven't had a new look in years. It's time to show off a little. You've been out of the public eye forever! Monsiour Richardson isn't the only pretty face around here!"

"I think this dress is showing plenty all by itself, Mason! Kevin would have a fit..."

Mason's hands went to his hips as he stuck a pose. "Well, Kevin isn't here, is he?" he said defiantly. He moved in front of her and tugged at some small sections of hair at her crown. "This may be an early evening affair but it's still glam! I even bought a new suit and it cost more than this dress, believe me!" Mason started snipping at the hair he had pulled down the front of Tristan's face.

"Hey! What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Just giving you a few bangs, Precious. Now, turn this way a little so I can do your make-up..."

Mason dabbed, brushed and rubbed for twenty minutes before he pulled away to evaluate his work. Another flick of a brush here, a dab of lipstick there and he stopped again. A smile slowly curled his lips upward into a satisfied grin. He was beaming.

"Jesus, Precious! I know it's you but you look so...so..."

"Slutty?" Tristan scowled. She tried to turn so she could look past Mason into the mirror.

"NO! You wait! I'm almost done..."

Mason leaned over and picked Tristan's earrings up off the dresser and slipped them into her ears. Then he reached out and picked up a piece of tissue paper that he had carried in with his other purchases. He carefully unfolded the tissue to reveal a single Tropicana rose. The blossom was open, not pinched into a tight bud. Mason brandished the small scissors once again and cut the stem before sticking it into the vee of Tristan's bodice. The dark blue of the dress and the salmon color of the rose played off of each other beautifully.

"Your cleavage will hold it in place..." Mason said matter-of-factly as Tristan gave him a slightly evil eye. "You have to wear your trademark..."

"Can I see now?" she pouted.

"Close your eyes..."

"Mason!"

"Please, Precious! I'll walk you to the mirror and you can see for yourself what a positively striking couple we make. I swear, Jack and Kevin will both have hard-ons when they get a load of us!"

"They're not going to see us!" Tristan sounded a little panicked as if she were trying to convince herself of that fact. "This isn't a prime-time event like on Sunday..."

"There will probably be some cable people there - maybe ET, since you're Mrs. Backstreet and all."

"Oh, no... I hadn't thought of that..."

"And you know there'll be photographers..."

"Oh, God..."

Mason walked Tristan over to the mirror where she was allowed to open her eyes on a count of three. When she did, she could hardly believe what she saw.

"I swear, Precious. Sometimes you almost make me wish I was bi..."

*****

Kevin could hardly believe what he saw, either. Unfortunately, he saw it during the Letterman taping when the producers thought it would be fun to bring out a monitor so Kevin could at least see the arrival of nominees that was being telecast by the Arts and Entertainment network. They thought it would be a nice surprise and even had the foresight to arrange for a split screen so that Kevin's reaction could be seen by millions of viewers when he saw his wife arrive at the ceremonies with her manager. The time difference allowed for perfect timing. Letterman taped at five PM. The awards ceremony was scheduled to begin at three but guests would be arriving between 2:15 and 2:45.

Arts and Entertainment had cameras set up in the lobby which was swarming with people. Nick sat beside Kevin and AJ sat on the far side of Nick. As Letterman made cracks, AJ began to speak and Kevin leaned and turned his head so he could hear him. He was not looking at the monitor when Tristan and Mason made their entrance. His eyes had fallen on Nick who suddenly looked pale. Kevin had started to whisper - to ask Nick if he was okay, unaware at that moment that Nick had become transfixed by the monitor.

"Whoa, Mamma!" Letterman shouted as he wiggled his eyebrows. "Damn, Kevin! I need to take myself a music appreciation class! I don't remember seeing anything like that in the school band!"

"You say libretto, I say libido..." Paul, Letterman's resident sidekick began to sing.

Kevin glanced at his host. He was smiling but puzzled. Enlightenment came when he saw that they were looking at the monitor and turned to let himself in on the joke. Audiences at home saw a divided screen. Tristan and Mason were on one side, stopping for photographers. A long shot of the group filled the other half of the screen. Some people in the studio audience were whistling and making cat-calls. Brian looked embarrassed. He smiled but made a show of hiding his eyes. Howie looked a little nervous and patted Kevin's shoulder. AJ looked... appreciative. He watched the screen over the top of his glasses and nodded. Nick looked like someone had hit him on the back of the head with a board. His mouth was open and he hadn't blinked. Kevin was frozen. His smile faded as he stared at the screen.

"Beautiful woman, Kev!" Andre shouted from the band.

Kevin nodded slightly but didn't respond. He had never seen Tristan look the way she did tonight - at least not in public. Her hair is different... Her mouth... And that fucking dress! Could it be any tighter?... The group drew a collective gasp when she dropped her bag and bent down to retrieve it. Mason beat her to it but he wasn't quick enough to keep her from filling the television screen with her breasts. Kevin watched as she laughed and thanked him. She looked like a goddamn movie star - incredibly sultry and hot. There was nothing demure about this piano player. Kevin felt like he had been staring at the screen for hours, not seconds. He didn't comment himself and didn't hear the compliments from his bandmates or hosts who chatted back and forth attempting to fill the dead air that Kevin was supposed to be occupying.

Things quickly went from bad to worse when Asa appeared over Tristan's shoulder and hugged her tightly. You could tell that she was surprised by his action. Kevin watched as she glanced over to Mason for assistance. Mason caught the cue and stepped between the pair as the classical papparzzi demanded more shots of the three of them but the photographers wanted Tristan between the two men. Mason reluctantly moved. Asa's hand found Tristan's bare shoulder for a moment and then circled her waist. His fingers moved up and down her side.

Kevin fully realized what it meant to 'see red' that evening. The images on the screen reflected back to him in shades of scarlet and sienna. He was vaguely aware of Howie whispering behind him.

"Commercial... let's break..." Howie pleaded to their host.

The monitor went dark and Kevin became aware of applause rising from the studio audience. When the producers broke for a commercial break, Kevin stood and left the stage. When taping resumed, he was still gone. Lighthearted excuses were made about him wanting to watch the awards telecast but the fact was that Kevin was down in the bowels of the old Ed Sullivan Theater. He had managed to even elude the ever present Carlos and soon found a men's room that looked as if it hadn't seen the light of day in months. When he felt confident that he would be left alone, he went into a stall and leaned over, permitting the heaves he had stifled earlier to finally make their escape. Then he stood and went over to a rusty sink and splashed water on his face. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like hell. What in the hell is going on? Was she seeing Asa out in LA? He looked pretty fucking casual when they 'unexpectedly' met in the lobby. Were they sharing a table now? If she won, would he give her a congratulatory kiss? Would he press her bare breasts against his chest? Had he done it before? Mason never liked me. Maybe he's just her beard... Maybe Asa will just stay at the hotel after the ceremony. He could invite Tristan to his room.... His imagination was carrying him to dangerous places.

Kevin ran his hands across his mouth and goatee. On one level he knew he was being ridiculous yet he couldn't stop considering the worst possibilities. Rage was quickly giving way to a deep-seated pain and unstoppable fear. He watched his reflection as his eyes slowly filled, then he chuckled and wiped the wetness away with the back of his hand.

He had something with him in his bag. Something that would make him feel better. The sound of the zipper seemed unusually loud as he pulled it open and glanced quickly towards the door, hoping no one would find him here. Inside his bag was a small plastic container that contained a collection of antidotes guaranteed to ease his paranoia and pain. Moving the colorful pills and tablets around with his forefinger, he found what he was looking for in the corner of the box. He didn't want to appear doped up or drunk so he passed on the Percodan and Librium. He didn't want to seem too hyper, either, so he left the small vial of coke and amphetamines alone. He opted today for a piece of Ecstasy and a joint. With a little luck, he soon wouldn't care what Tristan was doing, or who she was doing it with. He laughed at his own thoughts. The only thing that would ever stop him from caring about Tristan was a bullet.

*****

Holly sat nervously in the green room, watching the monitor as the remaining group members stood and bid goodnight to their host and the audience. Letterman cracked a few jokes about Kevin's disappearance and the group laughed along but there was an obvious tension in the air. Carlos had stuck his head in the door half a dozen times, growing more alarmed as the minutes ticked by. No one had seen Kevin.

Nick was the first to storm in the door.

"Where is he?" The room wasn't large and his question was answered almost immediately. "Jesus! Did he come in here, Holly?"

"N..no... No really. He grabbed his bag and left. He didn't say anything..."

The group and their bodyguards were trying to decide on a course of action when Kevin appeared in the doorway. He seemed very calm - even amused at the hubbub. All of the guys knew him well enough to know that he had been extremely upset watching Tristan on television. They also had a strong inkling of his feelings about Asa. Normally, it would have been an aggravation, but there had been nothing 'normal' about Kevin for some time. His disappearance only added to their misgivings.

"What the fuck happened to you, asshole!" Brian screamed into Kevin's face. "You just up and leave in the middle of a show? Is that how they do things in LA?"

"Back off, dawg..." Kevin drawled. "Had to piss. What's the big deal?"

"You're full of shit!" Brian growled. "You got ticked off seeing Tristan with her old boyfriend! Get over it! Christ! I wish Leigh and I had never gone with you to Virginia! You've been fucked up ever since you got a piece of her ass and...."

Brian didn't have a chance to say more. Kevin had him against the wall before he could take another breath. It happened so quickly that no one had time to react. They were nose to nose before Marcus could pull them apart, both of them red-faced and sputtering. Brian couldn't speak. Kevin had never gone after him like that.

"Let it go Bri!" Nick shouted. "Kevin had to take a leak. Period!" He looked over to Kevin, searching his face - begging for affirmation. "Right, Kev?"

"Right, Nicky. No big deal..." Kevin said evenly. "Let's get outta here..."

Kevin was calm again. Even to someone who didn't know him, his reactions would have seemed strange. Holly and AJ stared at Kevin for a moment and then found themselves looking at each other as a thread of understanding passed between them. They knew...



Tristan Trilogy - Story III

"Circling" is a work of fiction.
The characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

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