Black Heart

by R. L. Mathewson

  "If everything's fine, then why aren't ye with Marty?"

  "Because I have work to do," Tristan said, gesturing to the large stacks of files covering the small kitchen table.

  "Last time I checked, lad, she was supposed to work with ye so why isn't she here?"

  "She needed some rest," Tristan said, absently as he sorted through the files.

  "That doesn't sound like Marty," Shayne mused.

  "It wasn't her choice to make," Tristan said, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to stay focused and not think about the hurt look Marty shot him when he’d walked past her without saying a word to her.

  He knew that she wanted to know what happened. He should have said something to her, but he just couldn't talk about it, hadn’t wanted to talk about it. There was already enough bullshit in his life without dredging up the past.

  "Why are ye pushing her away?" Shayne asked softly.

  "I'm not pushing her away," Tristan said, praying that Marty realized that, since the last thing that he wanted to do was lose her. He loved her, wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but this just wasn't something that he wanted to talk about.

  Right now he needed some space and he knew that he was already fucking this up, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to deal with anyone at the moment, even Marty. It was because he loved her that he was pulling away from her right now. She was going to have to deal with enough bullshit to be with him, he didn't need to add to it with something that shouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but it did. Today was just another reminder of how truly fucked up his life was.

  "Lad, I-"

  "Just drop it, Shayne," Tristan said on a tired sigh as he rubbed his hands down his face, wishing this day would end.

  The sound of the front doorbell echoed throughout the house, letting him know that his day was far from over. He glanced at Shayne to find the man shrugging.

  "Who is it?" Tristan asked even as he stood up to go send whoever it was away. On a good day he hated having anyone over, forcing him to keep putting on a show, and today definitely was not a good day. He just wanted to get through the rest of the files, grab a beer, relax and forget everything that happened once he’d made the mistake of leaving his bed this morning. Why hadn't he just called in sick and spent the day in bed with Marty?

  "Tristan?" Denny called out as Tristan walked into the foyer, just in time to see his brother let himself in. When Denny spotted Tristan coming down the hall, he sighed with irritation as he gestured lazily behind him. "Where the hell have you been? Dinner's almost done."

  "I'm not hungry," Tristan said, gesturing for his brother to leave.

  "And if I cared that might mean something to me, but sadly it doesn't," Denny said with a shrug as he gestured for Tristan to move his ass. When Tristan opened his mouth to politely tell his brother to fuck off, he was cut off.

  "You haven't come to dinner in more than a month and a half, which means that I've been left to deal with Mom's henpecking," he explained before stressing, "alone."

  Tristan couldn't help but inwardly cringe on his brother's behalf. Their mother could try the patience of a saint with the way that she babied them, but at least when they were both there it divided her attention and made it somewhat tolerable. He'd have to make it up to his brother, but not tonight.

  "Tonight's not good, Denny. I'm working on a case," he said, once again gesturing for his brother to leave when the bastard had to go and say the one thing that would get him to move his ass and willingly put up with his mother's nagging.

  "Marty's there and mom started to interrogate her when I left."

  *-*-*-*

  "Your children are going to be so cute," Beth said on a happy sigh that almost made Marty choke on the sip of water she’d mistakenly taken to buy herself some time during Beth's rapid-fire interrogation that had started the second she’d walked into the kitchen.

  "Don't you think their babies are going to be cute, sweetheart?" Beth asked Tom, smiling dreamily as she kept her eyes on Marty. The pleased expression on Beth’s face actually terrified her.

  She shot a beseeching look to her father only to find the man shrugging off her silent cry for help as he took a sip of his beer. It didn't exactly surprise her that her father wasn't coming to her defense since he knew better. Marty could only imagine what Beth would do if he made the mistake of setting her straight. She'd spend the rest of the night focused on him, arguing and questioning the man to death. Still, it would have been a sweet gesture if he’d sacrificed himself for her. Not that she’d actually expected him to, but it would have been nice all the same.

  "Adorable," Tom said, earning a glare from her. He mouthed "Sorry", gave her a shrug, and took a sip of his beer as his attention went right back to the Yankees game playing on the small television sitting on the long counter and easily ignoring the inquisition that refused to end.

  "Tristan's house is perfect for a large family," Beth noted as she worried her bottom lip, no doubt trying to decide which room would be appropriate for a nursery.

  "We're just dating," Marty felt obligated to point out even though she wasn't really sure that was even true any longer.

  She wasn't a hundred percent positive, but she was pretty sure that she'd been given the kiss-off earlier. It was actually a really depressing thought and if her father hadn't wrestled that pint of Ben and Jerry's away from her and practically dragged her here, she would still be in her room preparing for the heartache that she was afraid was coming. The only reason that she hadn't made her escape yet was because she knew that Tristan wouldn't be here.

  When Denny announced that he was going to get Tristan, she felt a momentary spark of panic, but it was quickly extinguished when she reminded herself that Tristan was stubborn and would probably get out of this. From what she’d heard, he hadn't come over for dinner for close to two months, but that was understandable since he worked long hours and didn't usually have time to indulge his mother.

  Lucky bastard.

  As much as she loved Beth, and she did, she really did, she just knew that she wouldn't be able to deal with Beth like this for the rest of the night. When she did this type of thing to Denny it amused her, but the way the woman was sizing her up, almost as if she were trying to figure out how many grandbabies Marty would be able to give her, she was actually terrifying her just a tad. It also made everything worse.

  The only man she’d ever loved was pushing her away and she had absolutely no idea what she should do or say to stop him. It had never bothered her before if a relationship ended, mostly because she never really cared. None of the men she'd dated before ever made her feel the way that Tristan did, but most importantly, she hadn't fallen for them the way she had when she first laid eyes on Tristan. She was in love with him and wanted to fall asleep every night in his arms and wake up with him every morning and that would probably never happen now.

  Tristan didn't let anyone get close to him, not even his own family and why she thought that she was special was beyond her. She’d learned over the last couple of months that she was anything but special to Tristan. For all she knew he'd slept with her just to scratch an itch and now history was repeating itself. All those years ago he’d hurt her by suddenly dropping out of her life and now he was probably doing it again, she realized as panic finally set in.

  "Marty?" Beth said, drawing her attention. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

  "Fine," she lied, pasting a smile that she didn't feel at the moment on her face and praying that Beth took pity on her and let the subject of her and Tristan drop.

  "You look a little pale, sweetheart," Beth noted, frowning as she looked Marty over.

  Marty started to tell her that she was fine again, but she just couldn't do it. She wasn't fine. Nothing about this was fine. Her stomach was twisted up into knots as she waited for Tristan to break her heart and she couldn't help but wonder why.

  Why was she waiting around and leaving it all up to him? She wasn't a kid anymore, too
afraid to say something and find out that it was because of something that she’d said or did that chased him off. If he wanted to end things, then he'd damn well better tell her to her face this time, she decided as she turned around to hunt the bastard down. She'd rather have her heart shattered quickly than to deal with this gut wrenching uncertainty for a minute longer.

  "Marty?" her father called after her.

  "I'm fine, Dad. There's just something that I need to do," she said, not bothering to look back as she stormed out of the kitchen and headed for the living room, more than ready to kick Tristan's ass if that's what she needed to do in order to get answers. If it turned out that he was walking away from her again, she'd accept it. She'd end things this time, making sure that he didn't know just how badly he'd hurt her and this time she would be the one walking away.

  Only she wouldn't be coming back.

  Chapter 23

  "Oh.......shit," Denny and Shayne groaned as the three of them watched Marty storm out of his parents' house, looking furious. When she spotted Tristan, her eyes narrowed dangerously and her movements became clipped as she headed straight for him.

  "You," Marty said, pointing a finger at him for emphasis, "and I are going to have a talk."

  "We'll talk later," Tristan said with a resigned sigh as he moved to make his way to his parents' house, in no way ready to talk about the bullshit that went down today when Marty stepped into his path, blocking him.

  "No, I think now's a good time, don't you?" she asked, arms folded over her chest as she looked up at him, cocking a well-trimmed brow in clear challenge.

  "And I think that we'll talk about this later," he said, moving to step around her when her next words made everything in him go still.

  "If you walk away again, Tristan, that's it. I'm done," she warned and he knew by the determined look on her face that she meant it. There would be no second chances with her. If he didn't talk to her about something that he'd rather never think about again, she would walk away and destroy him.

  "I don't know what's going on," Denny said, confirming Tristan’s suspicions that neither Hank nor Marty had talked about what happened earlier, "but can't this wait until after dinner?"

  "No, it can't," Marty said firmly. Her eyes pleaded with him not to fuck this up.

  "I don't want to lose you, Marty," he said softly, praying that she backed off.

  "Then don't," she said, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes and he knew that the choice was no longer his to make. It didn't matter that this wasn't something that he wanted to do. He'd fucked up and hurt Marty again and that wasn't something that he could live with any longer.

  He reached out and took her beautiful face into his hands, tenderly wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumbs as he leaned in and brushed his lips against her trembling ones. "Okay," he said softly. "Let's go talk."

  "Wait a minute!" Denny said, sounding desperate and for good reason. "Just come and eat dinner with us and then you can go talk afterwards."

  "You're on your own," Tristan said with a shrug as he dropped his hands away from Marty's face and took her hand into his.

  "You betraying son of a bitch!" Denny snapped, shooting an anxious glance towards his truck.

  "You'll never make it," Tristan pointed out as he headed across the street with Marty.

  "There's only one way to find out," he heard Denny say as he headed towards his house with Marty.

  "Denny Black! Where do you think you're going?" he heard his mother demand and he probably would have laughed his ass off at his brother if he wasn't dreading this conversation.

  "Do you mind if we go for a walk instead?" Marty asked and as much as he would love to say yes and buy himself a little more time, he couldn't. If she needed to talk then he'd rather just get it over with.

  "Not right now," he said, heading for his house.

  Once they were inside she got right to the point. "Do you want to end this?"

  "No," he said with absolutely no hesitation.

  He didn't want to end this. He didn't want to lose her and be forced to live without her ever again. Right now he wanted to make up for lost time and make every minute count. He sure as hell didn't want to waste any of those precious minutes talking about bullshit that was best left in the past.

  She studied him for a moment before she nodded firmly, obviously accepting his answer. "Okay," she said, sounding relieved as she abruptly turned and headed up the stairs to the second floor.

  "Where are you going?" he asked, admittedly confused. "I thought that you wanted to talk."

  "I do," she said, shrugging as she shot him a look over her shoulder, slowing her pace. "But only when you're ready to talk, Tristan. I'm not going to force you to do something that you don’t want to do, but I needed to know where we stood."

  When he could only stand there staring at her, probably like an idiot, she turned right back around and headed upstairs, disappearing around the corner and leaving him more confused than he'd ever felt before.

  "Shayne?" he said quietly, knowing that he was probably close by.

  "Aye, lad?" Shayne asked, materializing right next to him.

  "Is this a trap?" he had to ask.

  "I'm not sure," Shayne admitted, sounding unsure, which wasn't exactly comforting at the moment. "Maybe ye should make a run for it, lad."

  Tristan turned a glare on the man. "How exactly is that helpful?" he demanded in a harsh whisper as his eyes darted back to the top of the staircase to make sure that they were still alone.

  "That's all I have right now, lad," Shayne admitted sheepishly.

  "It's not very helpful," Tristan said, slowly exhaling as he considered his options.

  "It is what it is, lad," Shayne said with a shrug.

  "Well, it isn't much," Tristan said, deciding that he'd rather get this over with. He didn't want to do this, but he'd hurt her and he'd do anything that he could to make things better.

  He forced himself to walk up the stairs as dread filled him.

  "Don't let me fuck this up," he prayed as he walked towards his room.

  He didn't see her as he walked into his room. As he was turning around to leave he spotted her shoes on the floor. A few feet away from those he spotted her nylons and a few feet away from those he spotted her pinstriped skirt lying in the doorway of his bathroom. More than a little curious, he followed the trail of clothing and pushed the bathroom door open as his eyes followed the rest of the trail to the foot of his tub where the trail ended with her bra.

  He looked up and couldn't help but groan when he spotted Marty surrounded by bubbles in his tub as she absently twirled a pair of lacy pink panties on her finger. When she saw him, she gave him a teasing smile as she sent the panties flying in his direction with a simple flick of her hand. He caught them as he leaned back against the doorframe.

  "I thought you wanted to talk," he said, wondering just how much she was going to want to know and if he could give it to her.

  "Not unless you do," she said with a shake of her head as she leaned back against the tiled wall and closed her eyes.

  "I don't," he admitted softly.

  "Then we won't talk," she simply said.

  "Then what do you want to do?" he asked, wondering where they were supposed to go from here. Thankfully, Marty had an idea.

  "You could start by getting me a beer," she said in a teasing tone that relaxed something deep inside of him.

  "A beer?" he repeated, wondering how he managed to win over a woman that he clearly didn't deserve.

  "Mmmmhmmmm, ice cold," she said with a cute little sigh as she settled more comfortably into the tub.

  "I think I can handle that."

  *-*-*-*

  "Help me, please!" a woman cried, startling Marty wide-awake.

  She frantically looked around the large bathroom, but didn't see anything. After a moment she nervously laughed it off even as she strained her ears for a television or a radio, anything to explain the fluttering in her che
st and the tiny hairs standing at attention on the back of her neck.

  After a moment she shook it off. She'd obviously been dreaming, she told herself, feeling foolish. She laid back in the tub and just started to relax when she heard movement in the bedroom.

  "Tristan?" she said, wondering what was wrong with her and why she was reacting so strongly to a dream.

  "Sorry it took so long. Mom called and wanted to know if we wanted her to bring over some food," he said, chuckling while he walked into the room, carrying two longneck bottles of beer as self-preservation kicked in and made her forget all about the strange dream.

  "You told her no, right?" she asked, already moving to climb out of the tub and make a run for it just in case. She really didn't think that she could take anymore of Beth's meddling tonight.

  "I did," he said, sighing as he handed her a beer. "It took a while and my father's help to get her to listen," he explained as he pulled his holster off his belt and placed it on the counter.

  "So, she's not coming here?" Marty clarified, knowing the woman would probably embarrass the living hell out of them with more questions and suggestions.

  "No, but you should probably know that Denny tried screwing us over by sending her over here so that he could make his escape," he said, chuckling as he toed off his shoes.

  "That rat bastard," she muttered, twisting the cap off her beer and taking a small sip.

  "Yes, he is," Tristan agreed with a grin as he yanked off his shirt and revealed an incredible chest, but that's not what had Marty hungrily licking her lips. It was that smile of his, that bad boy-relaxed-make-her-blood-boil smile of his. He didn't smile nearly enough, but she was glad that the stressed expression that he wore earlier was gone. As she watched him remove his pants, she couldn't help but wonder if that smile was because of her.

  "We won't have to worry about anyone bothering us for a while," Tristan murmured absently as he moved to place his pants on the counter, but after a slight hesitation and a nervous look, he placed his pants on the floor by the tub. It was a little odd, but nothing worth mentioning.