Page 32

CHAPTER 31

“F ine,” 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, Marty had to wonder if he really knew her at all.

For the past month, she’d been battling fatigue and terrified that she was going crazy. 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 from 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 faze 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,” Marty said, pausing in front of the large man blocking the bathroom.

Something in her expression must have given away the testicle-mutilating 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, Marty 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, Marty 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, Tristan 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 wouldn’t have cared what happened to him, but things were different now. Now, he had Marty in his life and they were having 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 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 to kill 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 did.

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,” Tristan drawled in a bored tone, cutting the man off as a shot of stabbing pain surged 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 his fingertips, 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 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.

Christ, it was on fire.

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 this connection to him 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.

“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,” 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 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 his earlier suspicions.

“You’re all brothers,” Tristan 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 that 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 went through as a child.

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 demanded 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 worrying over something that could be fixed with a bag of ice.

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

“Nope, not happening,” Marty 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 reason.

“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 who’d 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’d known that she was behind him, he probably would have been mentally prepared for Marty when she decided to show him exactly how qualified she was to work for a police department.

Personally, Tristan 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 department policy 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 him 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,” Finn 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!” Marty 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.

“Go back upstairs, Marty.”

He didn’t want her to try and escape, not with spirits after her. She’d never be able to outrun them and there would be no one to help her. She’d either end up dead or locked up in a mental institution somewhere and neither option was acceptable to him. He just needed her out of the room so that he could find out a few things without having to worry about her.

“I’m not going anywhere so you might as well get on with it,” Marty stubbornly said as she crossed her arms over her chest, giving them all a look that dared them to try and stop her.

“Please have mercy on my balls,” Finn whimpered, taking the decision out of his hands.