Black Heart

by R. L. Mathewson

  “Why are ye asking me? I’m not the one that’s pregnant!”

  “Lass, what would ye like to eat?” the man that had carried her into the room asked and, although she could use a fritter or an apple donut, she was having a difficult time wrapping her mind around one little thing.

  “Pregnant?”

  *-*-*-*

  “Oh, he’s not going to be happy about this,” he heard Shayne say as he walked down the hall towards the bedroom.

  “Well, the lass really didn’t leave us with much of a choice, now did she?”

  “She did make Quinn cry,” Shayne said, sounding thoughtful.

  “I wasn’t crying!” a man snapped and if Tristan hadn’t been preparing himself for the worst he probably would have laughed or at the very least cracked a smile. He sure as hell wasn’t smiling when he walked into his room and found his wife gagged, still wrapped up in a sheet, and now handcuffed to the bed.

  “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, shooting Shayne a glare as he stormed over to the bed.

  “She beat me,” the tall man standing by the bed mumbled, shifting nervously as the other men in the room chuckled.

  “I did warn the lads that she had a bit of a temper,” Shayne explained defensively as Tristan pulled out the gag, one of his clean socks rolled up into a ball.

  “Pregnant? You got me pregnant?” Marty demanded as soon as the gag was freed, taking him off guard.

  “Uh,” was all he could come up with under that murderous glare that she was shooting him.

  “Well said, lad,” Shayne said dryly as he reached over and released Marty from her cuffs.

  “What the hell are ye doing, ye dumb bastard?” the man that he was assuming was Quinn demanded as he quickly moved away from the bed. “The lass is feral!”

  “Calm yerself. He’s the one that she wants to kill,” Shayne pointed out, reaching out to help Marty sit up, but one look from her had him quickly backing away from the bed as well.

  “I’ll just let ye go ahead and handle this part, lad,” Shayne said, walking away like the coward that he was.

  “Well?” Marty demanded as she sat up, oblivious to the fact that she was only wearing a sheet in a room full of men.

  Thankfully, the sheet never slipped, but neither did the murderous glare she was sending him, unfortunately. He opened his mouth to explain, but just couldn’t find the right words. Marty, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be at a loss for words. She also didn’t seem to care that they weren’t alone.

  “You ready to talk yet, huh?” she demanded, somehow sounding more pissed than she looked, which was impressive because she looked ready to go for his balls.

  “Marty, I-“

  “You what? You’re ready to explain why you’re such an asshole? Or maybe you’re ready to explain why you feel the need to subscribe to over two hundred dollars worth of porn channels a month, huh?” she snapped, earning a few chuckles from their audience and having him make a mental note to kick Shayne’s ass later. He opened his mouth to explain, but Marty was far from done.

  “Or maybe you want to explain how you were still a virgin at twenty-nine?” she demanded, taking him off guard and accomplishing the one thing that he’d never thought possible. She’d managed to mortify him more than his mother ever had.

  “I’m embarrassed for him,” one of the men said in a loud whisper, earning several chuckles, and erasing any sliver of doubt that he’d ever had that these men were related to Shayne.

  “Me too, lad,” another man said.

  “Da’s probably rolling over in his grave from shame.”

  “Aye, it’s a sad day for the men of our clan.”

  “A sad day indeed.”

  Just when he thought it was over, he heard the all too familiar long suffering sigh that had him rolling his eyes before the betraying bastard uttered a single syllable of bullshit.

  “Now you see what I’ve been dealing with, lads? It hasn’t been easy dealing with a twenty-nine year old virgin with a porn fetish.”

  Tristan started to turn his head so that he could tell Shayne to go fuck off when the glare Marty was shooting him turned from murderous to something beyond words that actually frightened him and his poor balls enough for them to pull up tight and further out of her reach.

  “Oh? Do we have another secret?” Marty asked mockingly with a hint of pure acid lacing her tone.

  “Aw, shit,” one of the men, or him, whispered in fear, but he really wasn’t sure at the moment. The only thing that he was positive of at the moment was that his wife was seriously pissed off at him and whatever the men were here to do to him was suddenly looking better and better with each passing second.

  “Let’s see if I’ve got this right so far,” Marty bit out, tightening her hold on the sheet to keep herself covered as she got to her knees and in his face. It took everything he had not to scoot back from her and make a run for it, but common sense kept his ass firmly planted on the bed.

  He was in deep shit and there was nowhere to run.

  “You’ve kept the reason why you were a virgin all to yourself. You gave me some lame ass excuse for keeping the bedroom down the hall locked up-“

  “Ah, that’s my room,” Shayne interrupted her, probably thinking that he was helping.

  He wasn’t.

  “Stop fucking helping!”

  “Another secret!” Marty snapped, moving closer and almost falling off the bed when her legs got tangled in the sheets. He reached out and steadied her, only to have his hands slapped away the second that she was safe.

  “I’m sick of the secrets and the lies, Tristan! I want to know what the hell is going on here! I want to know why you pushed me away and broke my heart!” she cried out as the first tear trickled down her cheek, making him feel like the biggest prick on earth.

  He tried to reach for her and take her into his arms, but she wasn’t having that.

  “I want to know why you were such an asshole to me one minute and begging me for a chance the next. I want to know who they are!” she said, her voice breaking as she gestured to the men shifting nervously around the room. “And I want to know why you nearly destroyed my heart last month over that woman!”

  “What woman?” he found himself asking. He had absolutely no idea who she was talking about. There had never been any other women.

  “She means yer ma, lad,” Shayne said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

  “That was your mother?” Marty demanded tightly before adding, “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “She’s not my mother,” he said evenly.

  “You should have told me!”

  “It was none of your business!” he snapped back, only realizing how badly he’d fucked up when he saw the other men in the room wince in sympathy and Marty’s expression turned hurt.

  “As much fun as this is,” Liam said, pulling Tristan’s attention away from his wife and probably saving his poor balls, “I think that it’s time that we got this over with.”

  Chapter 29

  “Fine,” Tristan said, looking away from her as he stood up, “but leave my wife out of it.”

  Did he really think that she was going to be able to sit here while he found out why their house was being overrun by ghosts? As she climbed off the bed and pushed him out of her way, she had to wonder if he really knew her at all.

  For the past month she’d been battling with fatigue and fears that she was going insane. She deserved some answers and she was going to get them. She grabbed one of Tristan’s tee shirts and a pair of her panties out of the bureau.

  “This involves her as well, lad,” Liam, she thought his name was, said as she headed for the bathroom to change.

  “Keep her out of it,” Tristan bit out, sounding pissed, the kind of pissed that usually sent everyone in the room running for cover, but it didn’t phase her one bit. To be honest, she was kind of hoping that he kept on pissing her off so that when she kicked his ass, and there was no doubt in her mind right now
that she would in fact be kicking his ass, it would be justified.

  “I’m going,” she said, pausing in front of the large man blocking the bathroom.

  Something in her expression must have given away the testicle mutilation thoughts racing through her mind, because he took one look at her before swallowing nervously and jumping out of her way. That was probably for the best, she thought, as she started to close the door behind her. She wanted to save her energy for the ass kicking that Tristan most definitely had coming.

  “No, you’re not,” Tristan said tightly from behind her, but she was done listening to him.

  Whatever this was that she’d gone through over the last month, Tristan was definitely in the middle of it. Since she doubted that he was going to willingly give her the answers that she wanted that meant that she was going to have to deal with these men. One way or another, she would finally have all of her questions answered and then she’d deal with Tristan.

  She dropped the sheet and quickly pulled on the shirt and panties. After catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Once that was done, she headed for the door, determined to get this over with.

  “Sorry, lass,” one of the men said with a shrug as soon as she opened the door, “but, there’s been a change of plans.”

  *-*-*-*

  “Ye’ll be lucky if she doesn’t rip yer balls off for this, lad,” Shayne muttered, not looking particularly happy as all but one of the men materialized in the living room.

  “Let’s get this bullshit over with,” Tristan said, ignoring him as he walked into the room.

  He was beyond pissed with Shayne and planned on dealing with him later, but right now he needed to figure out what he was dealing with so that he could end this bullshit. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it at the man standing guard by the door, noting that it didn’t go through his head. Instead, it hit him in the face before it dropped to the floor. He ignored the man’s vile curse and ran everything that he knew about Shayne through his head.

  There was no doubt in his mind now that these men were the same as Shayne. He knew Shayne pretty well. At least he thought he did. There seemed to be a few things that he didn’t know about his oldest friend. In fact, six of those mysteries were currently in his house waiting to kill him.

  It wasn’t happening. No fucking way. A year ago, he might not have cared what happened to him, but things were different now. Now he had Marty in his life and they were expecting a baby. She was pretty pissed at him right now, but he was an asshole and used to pissing people off so he knew that it was only a matter of time and groveling before she forgave him.

  No, he definitely wasn’t worried about his wife forgiving him, but he was worried about her. He didn’t know what these men wanted from them, besides killing him apparently, and he wasn’t taking the chance that they had the same plans for his wife. The first chance he got, he was sending Marty away and Shayne, the betraying bastard, was going to keep her safe until he could come for her.

  Money was going to be a major obstacle in getting Marty somewhere safe. He had a little over twenty grand left in the bank, the money that he’d planned on spending on their honeymoon, but he doubted that would last them very long, not with a baby on the way. They were going to have to be prepared to move at a moment’s notice and hope that these men didn’t have the same connection with him that Shayne had. If they did…..

  Well, he’d worry about that later. Right now he needed to get some answers and figure a way out of this without having to screw up their lives.

  “We need to explain a few things before we-“ Liam began, but Tristan was done playing these games. He was going to get his answers and then he was going to do whatever it took to send these bastards packing.

  “And I need to know why my wife is suddenly caught up in this bullshit,” he said in a bored tone, cutting the man off as a shot of stabbing pain went through his shoulder while he did his best not to react.

  It hurt, it really fucking hurt. Granted, not all of his arm and shoulder hurt. Some of it was numb like the tips of his fingers, but the parts that hurt more than made up for it. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he didn’t think that it had hurt this much after he’d been shot. Not screaming in agony when his shoulder brushed up against the back of the couch when he sat down took some effort, but he managed it.

  He wasn’t about to let any of them know just how bad his arm was. It was something that could be used against him and right now he needed every advantage that he could get. The only one of them that he had to worry about was Shayne. He’d never regretted his connection to the man more than he did right now. If Shayne opened his big fucking mouth and let them know that he was at a disadvantage, they’d probably put more men on Marty, thinking that he wasn’t much of a threat. That’s exactly what he would have done if Marty hadn’t been pregnant.

  “She’s always been involved, Tadgh,” Liam said quietly as he sat down in Shayne’s favorite chair.

  “Bullshit,” Tristan snapped back, in too much pain to pretend to play along.

  How in the fuck could something hurt this much?

  “This was always the tricky part,” Shayne said on a sigh as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall.

  “At least he always handles this part better than Declean does,” the man standing guard at the double doors said with a chuckle.

  “It’s a very emotional time for me, ye son of a bitch!” the man standing near the far left corner of the room, presumably Declean, yelled.

  “Hey!” the man in the right corner snapped just as every man in the room’s expression turned murderous.

  “Watch yer fucking mouth!” Shayne snapped, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Call Ma’ that again, lad, and ye’ll be able to taste yer balls in the back of yer throat,” Liam said with a glare.

  “I didn’t mean it like that and ye know it!” Declean muttered defensively as he continued to pout in the corner, reminding him so much of Shayne at the moment and confirming an earlier suspicion.

  “You’re all brothers,” he said hollowly, the over-the-top pout confirming it. They all looked similar with their black hair, green eyes, large builds and similar mannerisms and expressions.

  “Yes,” Liam said with an approving nod.

  He felt a little lightheaded, a mixture of the pain and the fear that what Shayne said earlier was true. He wasn’t sure what it meant or how it was possible, but he needed to know. He needed to know for himself, for Marty and for their baby. Christ, a baby. What if their child was as fucked up as he was? His stomach twisted at the thought of his child going through the bullshit that he’d gone through growing up.

  Was never going to fucking happen.

  “And yer our little brother, lad,” Shayne explained softly with the same smile that used to help him get through the day when he didn’t think that it was humanly possible. Now it just left him feeling terrified.

  What did this mean for his baby and for-

  “How exactly is he your brother?” Marty asked as she walked around the couch and took the empty spot on the couch to his right out of habit. She was always careful of his left arm, taking great care to avoid touching it most of the time.

  She had no clue how fucked up his left arm was right now and he had no plans on making her worried by telling her. They had enough to deal with without bothering over something that could be fixed with a bag of ice.

  “You need to go back upstairs,” he said, hoping that for once in their lives that she would just listen to him. But of course she didn’t.

  “Nope, not going to happen,” she said as she glanced around the room.

  “How did you get past Finn?” Liam asked with a frown.

  “You mean the big crybaby upstairs?” Marty asked, looking thoughtful.

  “Why would you call him a crybaby?” Liam asked, looking confused while Shayne looked quite amused and for good rea
son.

  “Probably because she left him crying on the floor curled up in the fetal position,” Tristan said with a sigh, knowing his wife’s temper well enough by now to know what she was capable of.

  Three weeks later and Tristan was still cringing on behalf of the dumb bastard that had made the mistake of shooting his mouth off about how the Chief’s daughter had fucked her way into having permanent job security. If the man had known that Marty had been standing right behind him, he probably wouldn’t have called her a whore. Then again, if he had known that she was behind him, he probably would have been prepared for Marty when she decided to show him exactly how qualified she was to work for a police department.

  Personally, he thought the guy got off easy for calling her a slut and insinuating that she did her best work on her knees. She’d only stolen his club, dropped him to his knees and kept him there until he was crying and apologizing for being an asshole. Hank, after he’d had time to cool off, had suspended the young officer for violating several sexual harassment rules and sent the bastard home.

  Tristan had kind of felt bad for the guy, being made to cry like that in front of the whole squad. He’d made sure to catch up with the man in the parking lot and shared that thought as he beat the shit out of him. He’d probably still be explaining things to the young officer if his father and brother hadn’t arrived to rush the man to the hospital to have his jaw wired shut.

  “You might want to go check on him,” Marty said with a careless shrug that had Shayne chuckling.

  Several of the men cursed as their forms began to fade, but before any of them could leave, Finn appeared on the living room floor, curled up tightly in a ball and gasping for air which was a bit odd since he didn’t need to breathe.

  “My balls, my poor, beautiful, innocent balls,” he whimpered pathetically.

  All eyes, including his, went from the poor bastard lying on the floor, whimpering and muttering prayers for his balls, to the small woman sitting next to him.

  “What? He wouldn’t answer my questions!” she said defensively a split second before her glare landed on Tristan. He swore that his balls twitched in fear beneath that glare, but he didn’t let the very real possibility of having to face testicular recovery surgery keep him from doing what had to be done.