Page 29

CHAPTER 28

“O pen the fucking door!” Tristan shouted, panic taking over as Marty’s screams for help abruptly ended and the sounds of men fighting grew louder.

“Marty!” Tristan shouted, slamming his bad shoulder against the bedroom door, barely aware of the sharp pain shooting down his shoulder to his fingertips.

After a few more failed attempts, Tristan swore as he stepped back and slammed his foot in the door. The door gave way after two kicks. Before the door had a chance to bounce off the wall, Tristan was making his way inside and ready to kill whoever had broken into his house with his bare hands.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tristan bit out in disgust when he spotted Shayne fighting with the spirit of a large man by the bed.

He shook his head in disgust as he looked around the room for his wife. When he spotted her in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, looking pale, he wanted to kick his own ass for not taking better care of her. She was running herself ragged and it was starting to take its toll on her. She couldn’t keep going like this, not with a baby on the way.

A baby…

They were having a baby. It didn’t seem real. Only a month ago, he was prepared to step back and allow her to go on with her life, and now, they were bringing a child into this world and starting a family. He honestly didn’t know what to think about that. It didn’t seem possible that someone like him could be this blessed.

The only thing that he was certain of was that it was past time that he took better care of his wife. After shooting one last glance at Shayne as he took the intruding spirit down with an impressive chokehold, Tristan moved to go help Marty.

“Baby, are you-”

His words were cut off when a large man stepped in front of him and struck him in the chest, sending him flying across the room before he could get a good look at the bastard’s face. The air was forced from his lungs as his back slammed into the wall, his bad shoulder connecting with the edge of the windowsill as his head slammed back against the wall with a sickening crack .

“Tristan!” he heard Marty scream as he fell to the floor, the plush carpet doing little to protect his battered body.

His vision blacked out as he struggled to get to his feet. It took several attempts before he could manage it. His legs gave out on him several times before he accepted the fact that he couldn’t walk, but he didn’t let that stop him from going to his wife.

Squinting, Tristan crawled as he struggled to remain conscious. He couldn’t see anything, so he moved towards the sounds of Marty’s cries. Someone had her, was hurting her and he was helpless to do anything to stop them so he did the only thing that he could think of before he passed out.

“Protect her, Shayne.”

* * *

“Tristan!” Marty screamed, watching helplessly as Tristan dropped to the floor. She moved to help him when the voice that she’d come to think of as her protector spoke, drawing her attention to an incredibly handsome man with short black hair and killer green eyes. Then again, all the men in the room, seven the last time she counted, were handsome with jet black hair and killer green eyes and were no doubt related.

“Was that really necessary?” the familiar voice demanded with a heartfelt sigh as he moved to Tristan’s side.

“Aye,” the large man, who’d wrapped her up in a sheet and carried her into the bathroom only moments earlier, replied flatly.

When Marty tried to walk past him to go to Tristan, she was surprised when he didn’t try to stop her. She learned the reason for that barely a second later when four of the large men leaning back against the wall suddenly vanished only to reappear by Tristan’s side before she could blink.

“Oh, come on now, lads!” the man who’d been looking Tristan over snapped as two of the men grabbed him by his arms and yanked him to his feet and away from Tristan.

“Bring them downstairs.”

“Wait!” Marty said as she rushed to Tristan’s side, desperate to make sure that he was okay. Before she could reach him, two of the men reached down, grabbed him by the arms and disappeared, leaving her stumbling forward as her heart skipped a beat and she forgot how to breathe. The rest of the men quickly followed until she was suddenly all alone.

“When you’re ready, we’ll be downstairs waiting for you, Macha,” the large man who’d helped her to the bathroom said softly from behind her, making her realize that she wasn’t alone after all.

“That’s not my name,” Marty found herself saying as her mind struggled to grasp what just happened.

“Everything will be okay, Macha,” he promised softly with a sympathetic smile that struck her as vaguely familiar.

She wanted to point out that everything had been fine before he’d showed up, but at that moment, her stomach decided that everything definitely wasn’t okay.

* * *

“What’s she doing?” Liam asked as Quinn materialized in the kitchen, his glare never leaving Tristan, who sat slumped forward in the kitchen chair with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“Still getting sick,” Quinn said with a sneer of disgust. Shayne knew that if they’d still been human that Quinn would have been joining Marty. He’d always had a weak stomach, something they used to tease him about when they were alive. It was a pity that he couldn’t use that against Quinn right now, Shayne thought with a sigh.

“Find something to settle her stomach,” Liam ordered as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter.

“What were those things that she liked the last time she was pregnant?” Declean asked as he moved into the kitchen.

“Apples?” Finn suggested with a frown as he moved to join his brother in the search for something that would settle Marty’s stomach.

Aidan nodded as he joined them. “Aye, the lass has always been partial to apples.”

Connall shook his head as he left Shayne’s side to help with the search. “She doesn’t like the green ones, lads.”

Shayne rolled his eyes as he pulled up a chair next to Tristan, who was still unconscious, and said, “She can’t stomach raw apples when she’s pregnant. They have to be cooked.”

His brothers stopped mid-search to look at him.

“Are ye sure?” Connall asked, frowning.

“Aye. Don’t ye remember the last time that she was pregnant? We had to take turns stealing pastries from the baker after Tadgh was killed,” Shayne reminded them. In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea considering the fact that he’d broken their agreement after that incident and helped Tadgh, again…and again…and this last time would make three times he’d helped Tadgh since he’d promised not to.

“You mean when we were all forced to watch Macha die from a broken heart… again ?” Liam asked, his glare moving from Tristan to him.

“He tricked me this last time,” Shayne bit out, which was true.

Tadgh had tricked them all into believing that he’d finally had enough and was going to leave Macha alone and give her the peace that she deserved, but he’d lied. He’d led them all to believe that he needed time and space to finally let her go and they’d all foolishly given it to him. Not that they’d quite believed him.

They’d kept watch on Macha’s soul as best as they could and when they’d felt that she was ready to be born again, they’d followed her soul. Once she’d successfully made it into the unborn fetus, they’d searched for Tadgh. They’d expected him to try and follow after her, but they never found him. For a couple of years, they’d watched over Macha until they felt that the likelihood of Tadgh trying anything was slim.

The last time they’d checked on her, she’d been three years old. They all loved her and agreed that the temptation to interfere in her life and protect her was too much. To be honest, none of them had been able to stomach the idea of seeing her with someone else. She belonged with Tadgh. The problem was this goddamn curse that kept them all trapped in this never-ending cycle of bullshit.

Somehow, they’d managed to walk away from Macha, wishing her the best and praying that Tadgh wouldn’t do something stupid like torturing himself by watching over her. Shayne couldn’t imagine being forced to watch over his soulmate and not being able to touch her, take care of her, and having to be forced to watch as another man took his place. Then again, he avoided his soulmate like the plague, so he really didn’t have to worry about torturing himself. Tadgh on the other hand…

Couldn’t stay away from Macha and they should have realized that their younger brother would have found a way to get past them. Shayne still wasn’t sure how Tadgh managed to pull it off without any of them finding out. It was only by pure luck that Shayne had discovered Tadgh living across the street from Macha all those years ago.

He still couldn’t believe how fucking stupid Tadgh had been to do it. What the hell had he been thinking? He knew what waited for him and he still did it, uncaring about the hell that he was going to put himself through. Eleven years without any type of protection or buffer from spirits too desperate for the lives that they’d lost to care about what they put a young child through was a dangerous way to live. To be honest, Shayne was still surprised that Tadgh hadn’t been killed or found himself locked up in a mental hospital by then.

“I’ll get her some apple pastries,” Declean offered, stepping away from the counter to do just that.

“She’s partial to apple fritters,” Shayne suggested absently as a thought occurred to him. Then, with a sigh and a muttered, “I’ll be right back,” he left the room.

When he materialized in Tristan’s room a few seconds later, he wasn’t exactly surprised to find Marty dressed, armed, and seriously pissed off. He wasn’t even surprised when she raised the gun in his direction and aimed it directly where his heart had once beat.

What did surprise him, and apparently Marty as well if her high-pitched squeal was any indication, was the bloodied spirit of a man stumbling through her bedroom wall.

With a muttered, “Oh, shit,” Marty swung the gun in the direction of the spirit.

“Oh, my God! Don’t shoot!” the man cried, throwing his hands up into the air as he stumbled back, making Shayne shake his head in disgust.

“Yer already dead, ye dumb bastard!” Shayne snapped at the man as he turned his attention back to Marty, who he noted was turning an interesting shade of green.

“Don’t…d…don’t mo-” she struggled to get out.

“Move?” Shayne finished for her with a helpless shrug.

He watched as she opened her mouth, definitely to tell him to fuck off, but instead clamped a hand over her mouth, muttered, “Oh, shit,” and ran to the bathroom. With a sigh, he followed her.

As Marty struggled to keep the gun aimed at him while she lost what was left of her dinner, he couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to spend any real time with her. Granted, having a gun aimed at his balls while her dinner made a second appearance probably wouldn’t qualify as quality time to most people, but he’d gladly take it.

He missed the nights they used to spend by the fire, long after everyone else had fallen asleep, talking and laughing while they’d pretended that everything would work out. If it hadn’t been for Tadgh, he probably would have made her his own. Their union wouldn’t have been based on romantic love, happily ever after and all that bullshit, but one of respect and friendship. There was no doubt in his mind that he never would have made her as happy as Tadgh did, but he would have kept her safe. Considering everything that happened, maybe he should have done just that.