Toxic For Me

Chapter 32: The Bidding

The moment the sunlight hit the ground, Tristen had been sitting over everyone's heads. "Is it all ready?" He asked Brendon, who had been running around fetching his stuff to get it into the car. "Just a few more things, and we're done." He replied. "Don't forget to secure the ledgers. Hurry up." He said, excusing him from the conversation.

"Ah, Lavender." Tristen clicked his tongue at his foolish forgetfulness, dialing her number. "Tristen?" She answered after a few rings. "Love, what are you doing?" He asked. Brendon motioned him to get in the car waiting for him outside under his port cochere. "I was taking a shower." She replied, sounding as if she was panting. "Did you run out to pick up my call?" Tristen smirked, sitting in the passenger seat as Brendon shut the door for him.

"Yes. I knew it would be yours. Are you leaving now?" She asked. "Yes, I'm leaving now. Listen to me very carefully, Lavender. I'll be sending my men over at your place. They'll be guarding your house, okay? Don't go anywhere else until I come to get you myself." He instructed.

Brendon sat in the driver's seat and started the car, before they were driving. Tristen had around fifteen men accompanying him to the event. "You're scaring me, Tristen." She replied, more of an annoyed tone. "Just do as I say, love. I'll be back by evening." He added.

"Alright, fine. I'm going back to shower. I love you." She rolled her eyes. "Love you, too. But remember to not come out of your house. And don't drink anything caffeinated!" Tristen said to hear silence from the other end. "Ah, she makes me worry too much." He put the phone down to rub her temples. "She's the exact blueprint of you, Tristen." Brendon scoffed, resting is arm on the window pane of the car while driving with other.

Tristen slowly turned his head to look at him laughing. "Do I make you all worry?" He asked in his regular threatening cold tone. "N-No, not at all." Brendon chuckled nervously, focusing on the road. He glanced into Tristen's direction, who was busy sending hundreds of messages to Lavender, instructing and warning her about the various possibilities of Juggy trying to mess with her. She would probably ignore them all, because it simply was a tedious task to read hundreds of essays on text.

They even included texts explaining her escape options based upon the architecture of her house; he knew it as if he were talking about his own house.

Quite a lot of time had passed, and it had been dead silent ever since. Tristen would occasionally check his phone for any reply from Lavender. Brendon was quietly observing him, deciding on how to start a conversation.

He then cleared his throat before speaking. "Erm, Tristen?" He said, giving him a quick glance. "Mmh?" Tristen hummed in response. "How's Lavender now?" He asked. Tristen gave him a stern look, wondering why it was his concern. "I-I meant, regarding her health. She's unwell, right?" He stammered. "Yeah, about that..." Tristen let out a huge sigh, throwing his head back on the headrest of the seat as he slid his phone back into the pocket. Seemingly, he was stressed. "You haven't told her yet, have you?" Brendon nervously chuckled. "Nope." He replied, holding his temples.

"She's going to find out, Tristen."

"She won't."

"How? What if she goes to the hospital if she feels nauseous again?"

"She is not going anywhere, trust me. After all, she's just as stubborn as me. More than me, I'd say." Tristen scoffed, picturing her in his memories. Suddenly, he was missing her so much. Too much. He lowered his gaze to his lap, looking at his resting hands. How he'd hold her with those very hands, in his arms, whenever she was happy, crying, excited, naughty, stubborn, playful, and for no reason, too. "Why didn't you tell her?" Brendon asked, reading Tristen's face. "I wanted to, Brendon. But now, it's not the time. I'll tell her once we're away from this place. In Rome. That's when I'll tell her." Tristen said, pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.