Page 42

CHAPTER 41

“E verything will be fine,” Beth said softly to herself, to her or the men who looked like they were struggling not to lose their fucking minds, Marty didn’t know.

She also couldn’t hold it together for a minute longer if she had to sit there. She needed space away from the oppressive grief that threatened to destroy her. There was a way out of this and she needed to figure it out quickly and she wouldn’t be able to do that if she stayed here a minute longer.

“Where are you going?” Denny asked, looking worse than the last time they’d all gathered in this room while they’d waited for the surgeon to tell them that everything would be fine.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Marty mumbled, trying to give him a reassuring smile and failing miserably.

Denny nodded as he stood. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Marty said, grabbing her purse.

Quinn, Finn, and Aidan shifted their circle of protection, widening it as they prepared to move with her. She was glad that they were there and that they’d refused to let her out of their sight. It made getting them alone so that she could question them about the curse easier. She needed to know exactly what was said, who said it, and what they were doing when they said it. She needed-

“Oh, fuck no,” Finn groaned softly, drawing her attention.

Frowning, Marty looked past him to see a very large and incredibly handsome man with short, slightly wavy jet-black hair and beautiful green eyes walk down the wide hallway towards them. She was about to ask what was wrong when she realized something.

Those were Tristan’s eyes.

“No, no, no, please, God, no,” Marty mumbled weakly, shaking her head as she stumbled back.

“Marty?” her father said as he reached for her only to swallow hard when she shoved his hands away, desperate to get away.

“Macha,” the man coming for her said with an Irish brogue that confirmed her worst fears.

“Please don’t do this,” Marty cried, stumbling back as her father, Tom, and Denny tried to grab her, but she shoved them away.

“Shhhh, mo ghrá,” Tristan said soothingly as he reached for her.

“Calm down, Marty!” her father pleaded, his voice breaking as he wrapped his arms around her. She fought him, needing to get away from the man watching her with kind eyes. If she could put some space between them and stop him from touching her, then this wouldn’t be happening.

Tristan wouldn’t be dead.

“Shit!” her father snapped when she kicked and struggled to get away from him.

“Can we get some goddamn help here?” Denny snapped as he grabbed Marty by her legs and helped take her to the floor.

“Relax, sweetheart,” the man with Tristan’s eyes said softly as he reached over and cupped her face.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, tears ran down her face as the first sob broke free. “Please don’t do this,” she begged softly.

“Yer okay, mo ghrá,” Tristan said as she felt his lips brush against hers. “It’s not yer time yet.”

“Please don’t leave me, Tristan,” she sobbed softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

* * *

“What the fuck is that beeping?” Connall demanded even though they all knew what it meant.

Not even a minute earlier, they’d all watched as their brother left his body. Those kind, too goddamn forgiving eyes had locked with his. With a sad smile and a small flicker of his hand, Tadgh had covered his naked form with clothes and walked out of the operating room in search of his young bride.

“He’s dead,” Liam said flatly as they watched doctors and nurses race around the room, shooting drugs into Tristan’s IVs in between shocking him and pushing air into his lungs in the hopes that they could restart his heart.

No one said anything else as they watched the men and women work in vain to save Tristan’s life. There was no point really, the curse had him and would soon have his wife. They’d be forced to watch her die once again and at that moment, Shayne wanted to hate Tadgh, but he just couldn’t.

This wasn’t his fault. It was the fault of the murderous bastard who had gotten off too easily so long ago. They should have made his death last for days before they’d allowed him any release. They should have-

“They’re keeping his body alive?” Declean asked, sounding curious and cutting into his thoughts.

“Aye,” Shanye said, having watched enough television and movies to know that was exactly what they were doing. It wouldn’t help, not in Tristan’s case, but he appreciated the effort, nonetheless.

“Tadgh died, right?” Declean asked, sounding thoughtful.

“Aye,” Liam said with a slight nod.

“Then…then the curse claimed him?” Declean asked, starting to irritate him.

“Aye, lad! Do ye really need to have this explained after all this time?”

Declean simply shook his head. “I don’t, but a thought just occurred to me that’s all,” he said with a shrug.

“What’s that?” Liam asked, his eyes never leaving Tristan’s face.

“It’s just that he died and the curse claimed its due for this life. They’re keeping his body alive, so what’s to stop us from putting Tadgh back inside? I don’t think the curse can claim him twice in one lifetime, can it?”

Shayne looked up and met Liam’s gaze. “Is it possible, do ye think?” he asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Liam said with a determined glint in his eyes before he disappeared.

“Guard him,” Shayne told Connall as he disappeared, praying that they’d finally found a way to beat the curse.

* * *

“How are you still here?” Marty asked, remembering what they were told last night. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Once he died, he was supposed to be ripped away from her.

“I’m not sure, mo ghrá,” Tristan said with a kind smile, his hand continued to caress her stomach. “But it might be best not to speak to me, lass, or they’ll think yer crazy,” he said with a wink, trying to tease her into smiling, but it didn’t work, and she didn’t care if they thought she was crazy.

She wanted Tristan back. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him, to live even a single minute without him. They still had time left, she could feel it down in her soul.

“There has to be a way,” Marty said, ignoring the concerned looks of everyone around her.

“There’s not, lass. Believe me, we’ve tried everything,” Tristan gently explained. “The only thing left to do is let ye go now, Macha.”

“No!” Marty said, trying to reach for him, but she couldn’t move, not with her father’s arms wrapped tightly around her.

“It’s the only way,” Tadgh said with a sad smile. “I can’t keep putting ye and our child through this, mo ghrá. This has to end now.”

“No! Just one more time! Please! We can do this!” Marty screamed as she felt her heart starting to break.

“I need ye to be strong, lass. I need ye to go on without me for this child,” Tristan said, giving her stomach a gentle caress.

Marty tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t go on without him, didn’t want to and she knew at that moment that the curse had its grips on her. She wouldn’t last long without him and there was nothing that she could do about it.

As her father held her in his arms, rocking her gently as he swore to her that everything would be okay, Marty numbly watched as Liam and Shayne appeared on either side of Tristan’s soul, and with a firm nod, grabbed him by the arms and disappeared, leaving her with the grief that was swallowing her whole.

* * *

“Let me go!” Tadgh shouted as they materialized in the operating room.

“Sure thing,” Shayne murmured, praying that this worked. With a nod, they picked Tadgh up and slammed him down into his body.

They watched him for several minutes, praying that something, anything would happen. This had to work, needed to work. Hell, he didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t work. A tiny beep was the only warning that they had before one of the most terrifying things that he’d ever witnessed occurred.

Tristan’s body arched off the table, startling everyone working on him, but the unholy roar that he released when he slammed back down on the table terrified them. Seconds passed as everyone stared at Tristan in shock, the solid beep quickly becoming separate sounds as his heart started to work on its own.

Shayne watched with amusement as a nurse’s eyes rolled back into her head seconds before she swayed and dropped to the floor. The other humans barely spared her a glance, their gazes remained locked on Tristan.

“What the hell was that?” the surgeon asked, looking stunned as he stood over Tristan’s body, the paddles he’d been about to place on Tristan’s chest still clutched tightly in his hands.

“That was checkmate,” Shayne said smugly, butting fists with Declean as he made his way out of the operating room.

He needed to tell Marty that everything was going to be okay and he meant to do just that, but he couldn’t. He needed a moment to…

He just needed a moment.

He wanted to go home, throw on the television and blast it to help clear his head, but he couldn’t leave the hospital. Tristan and Marty were too vulnerable right now and his brothers were going to need help keeping them safe. He needed noise, lots of it and preferably cries of pain or pleasure, it didn’t matter. Both would work, always had.

“Aye, that’s much better,” Shayne sighed, popping into the emergency room waiting room as the screams of a drunk man arguing with the triage nurse reached his ears. The rest of the background noise was like music to his ears.

It wasn’t as loud as he preferred, but he’d take what he could get at the moment. They weren’t as good as porn movies, but they would have to do. The fake groans, moans, screams of pleasure, and horrible music were the perfect substitutes for the sounds of the old war camps.

The noises of fighting, arguing men getting into drunken shouting matches and the sounds of the camp whores screaming in pleasure once served as a lullaby for him. While most men lost themselves in their drink or between the legs of a woman, he’d lost himself in sounds, loud, unpredictable sounds.

He’d always done his best thinking in loud places. They comforted him, probably because pure silence scared the living shit out of him. It always reminded him of-

“Oh, fuck,” Shayne groaned, grabbing his side as a cramp shot through his lung.

Another cramp, and then another more powerful cramp shot through his lungs, dropping him on his ass as he struggled with some unknown need. His lungs were on fire and felt like they were going to explode. Something wasn’t right. Something was really fucking wrong.

The curse.

Shit!

He needed to get to Tristan. He needed to figure out a way to spare his brother anymore pain. He needed to-

“Hey, buddy, you might want to put some clothes on.”