Page 33

Black Heart Page 33

by R. L. Mathewson


It was after three in the morning and no one in her family would be foolish enough to let themselves in and take the chance of Tristan mistaking them for a burglar. Then again, after Beth had walked in on the two of them having sex in the foyer two weeks ago, no one in their family came over without calling first anymore.

“Shit!” she hissed softly as she crawled out of bed and grabbed the baseball bat that she kept beneath her side of the bed. For all of about ten seconds she considered going downstairs and taking care of this problem herself and if wasn’t pregnant, and concerned about the baby getting hurt, she would have done just that.

Cursing Declean and Finn to hell, she grabbed her cell phone and quickly made her way to the walk-in closet. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and stepped inside. The walk-in closet hadn’t been a big deal to her when she’d moved in with Tristan, but right now she was glad that it was so large. There would be plenty of room to swing the bat if an intruder found her.

She opened her phone and called Tristan, hoping that he’d pick up.

“Hey, sweetheart, I-“

“Tristan, there’s someone in the house,” she whispered, cutting him off so that she could quickly get to the point and he could get his ass home where it belonged so that he could beat the shit out of anyone crazy enough to break into their house.

“Where are you?” he asked casually, too casually, she thought. Tristan was extremely overprotective of her. Something like this should have him flipping out and promising to send every cop on duty her way.

“In the closet with the baseball bat,” she said softly.

“Good. Okay, stay there I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said quickly, hanging up on her before she could get the chance to point out that he was over three hours away.

She stared through the white paneled door. She could see bits and pieces of the room, but not much. At least she would be able to see if someone walked in. A creak from the direction of the bedroom door had her holding her breath. Oh God, he’s on the second floor! She gripped the baseball bat firmly and raised it, ready to start swinging.

The door to the bedroom opened and a large man walked inside. She couldn’t make out any features, just that he was large. He walked inside and moved around the room, taking his time. She held her breath while she watched him, praying that he would leave quickly. He turned and moved to walk back towards the door when he suddenly paused in front of the closet door.

He faced the closet. She gripped the bat tightly even as she willed him to turn back around and head for the door. Her jaw dropped in shock when the intruder began to disrobe. He dropped his shirt to the ground, slowly. When he undid his pants, revealing a pair of grey boxer briefs, a small gasp escaped her lips.

Tristan.

She would recognize that body anywhere.

That little bastard, she thought. Quietly, she put the bat down behind her. She slowly stepped back from the door and moved to the side where he wouldn’t be able to see her. On the shelf behind her, Tristan kept extra stuff for work, shoe polish, shoelaces, cleaning materials for his guns, a few pairs of cuffs, and a small metal flashlight.

Marty grabbed a set of handcuffs and the flashlight. As quietly as she could, she pulled the flashlight apart until all she had in her hand was the small metal tube. She squeezed back against the side of the wall and waited. He didn’t keep her waiting long. The door opened and he stepped inside, pausing to look down at the bat.

When he bent down and picked up the bat, she stepped up behind him and pressed the metal tube against his back. “Okay, asshole, drop the bat.”

Slowly, he dropped the bat. “Now put your hands behind your back,” she ordered.

When he paused, she nudged the tube against his back until he moved to do what she wanted. Sighing heavily, he put his hands behind his back. With one hand, she cuffed both his hands together, careful not to pull too hard on his left arm.

“Okay, into the bedroom slowly and don’t turn around.”

After a slight pause, he walked into the bedroom. She moved with him, keeping a hand on his cuffs and the tube.

“I guess I should call the cops now,” she said offhandedly.

Tristan didn’t say anything as he stood there, letting her call the shots. She took her hand off the cuffs and ran a finger teasingly down his back, making the muscles in his back tighten. She moved her hand down to his ass and squeezed. Every muscle in his body went rigid.

“It’s really a shame to waste such a great body.”

Biting her lip so that she wouldn’t laugh and give herself away, she moved her arm around his waist and pushed her hand into his briefs and when she found what she was after, she gave it a gentle squeeze, making him groan.

“A damn shame. My husband has a really nice body, but not as nice as yours. And this,” she ran her hand over him, making him moan, “he has nothing on you in this department.”

She pulled the pipe away. He tried to turn around, but she put a hand on his back to stop him. She dropped the pipe to the ground and slowly pulled his underwear down.

“I tell you what,” she said, playfully nibbling on his bottom before she stood up, “you do a little something for me and we’ll forget all about the police.”

He adjusted his feet, taking a deep ragged breath. Marty ran her hand over his back as she leaned closer and pressed a kiss between his shoulders. Her hands went around his stomach and chest.

“What do you say? Are you game?” she asked. Her hand slid back down his stomach and between his legs. She ran her hand over his erection. “I’d say you were more than game,…..Tristan.”

“I hope you knew it was me the whole time,” Tristan said, chucking as he slowly thrust in her hold. Smiling, she pressed another kiss against his back. She ran her hand over his erection one more time before she released him.

When she dropped her hand away, he turned around to face her. He leaned in and kissed her. “I’m sorry I scared you. We were able to get away a lot sooner than I thought.”

She put her arms around his neck. “It wasn’t funny,” she said, although she had enjoyed herself once she’d realized who the intruder was.

“I know. I’m sorry I woke you. I was trying to make a sandwich when I dropped a plate and broke it.”

“Where did Declean and Finn go?” she asked, leaning up so that she could press a kiss against his chin.

“They came downstairs to find out how the trip went,” he said, bending slightly so that he could kiss the tip of her nose.

“And how did the trip go?” she asked, dropping her arms from around his neck so that she could push his underwear down the rest of the way.

Sighing with frustration, he stepped out of his underwear and kicked it to the side. “Another dead end.”

“Are you going to check out that lead down in Massachusetts next week?” she asked, hating the idea of spending another week without him.

He shook his head as he leaned down and kissed her. “I’m done for now.”

“Why?”

“Because I missed you too much,” he confessed, making her smile.

“Really?”

“Really,” he said, pressing one last kiss against her lips before he stepped away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. “Besides, Ashlyn is finally back in town.”

“Shayne must be thrilled,” she said, smiling when Tristan shifted to free himself.

Well, she couldn’t very well allow that, now could she? Before he could bring his knees up, Marty was pushing him down on the bed and sitting on his lap.

“Rot in hell, ye bastards!” they heard Shayne shout seconds before the sounds of a door down the hall being slammed shut reached their room.

“He’s thrilled,” he said dryly as he lay back on the bed.

“Apparently,” she said with a smile as she reached down and grabbed a handful of her cotton nightgown. She pulled it off and was about to toss it aside when the strained expression on Tristan’s face caught her attention
.

“Your shoulder?” she asked, dropping the nightgown on the floor as she scrambled to get off him, praying that she hadn’t hurt him. Damn it, she should have known better.

“Yeah,” he said with a slight groan that had her frantically searching for a key.

“Got it,” she said, picking up the key from the bottom drawer and moving to turn around and free him when a large tan hand slowly snatched the key out of her hand.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing that,” he whispered seductively as she registered the feel of his lips brushing over her neck.

It took her a few seconds before she realized that he’d somehow managed to pull her arms behind her back and handcuffed her without her knowing it.

Damn, he was good.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back until she was pressed tightly against his body. “Why don’t I show you how much I missed you?”

“And how long do you think that will take?” she asked, loving the way it felt to be in his arms, whole.

“For the rest of my life, mo shonuachar.”

Epilogue

“Stop fucking judging me!”

“It’s a stupid show!”

“It’s misunderstood!”

“It was supposed to be a three hour tour. Why the hell did they need all that fucking luggage?”

Shayne glared at Finn as he pointed towards his open bedroom door. “I told ye never to bring that up again!”

“It’s a stupid show,” Finn muttered with a shrug before he disappeared.

“Yer dead to me, ye bastard!” Shayne yelled after the confused bastard.

It was a great show, damn it!

“How are they supposed to make banana cream pies on a deserted island without milk, flour, or butter?” Declean demanded from the comfort of Shayne’s bed.

Shayne didn’t bother answering him as he flipped Declean off and stormed out of his bedroom. As he walked down the hall towards Tristan’s bedroom he cursed Declean and his precious Food Channel to hell and back. Thanks to that betraying bastard he now had a craving for banana cream pie and no way to get his hands on one.

“Sorry, lad,” Quinn said with a shrug as he appeared in front of Tristan’s door.

“Still?” Shayne asked, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Aye,” Quinn said, chuckling. “Seems the lad really missed her.”

“Oh, come on! It’s been two days!”

Quinn simply shrugged as he gestured for Shayne to turn around and leave. Snorting in disgust, Shayne moved to pound on Tristan’s door. Two days with Marty was more than enough, especially since he was bored and wanted to get out of here for a while.

“Think again, lad,” Quinn said, grabbing him.

One second he was raising his hand to pound on Tristan’s door and remind the bastard that he’d promised to give him a ride into town and the next he was standing in the middle of the foyer. It took him a minute before he realized what his brother had done to him.

“No fucking way……”

“I’m embarrassed for ye, lad,” Aidan said in a mock whisper as he appeared to Shayne’s right.

“Aye, he just manhandled ye like ye were his bitch or something,” Finn said, shaking his head in disgust. “Are ye really gonna take that, lad?”

This couldn’t be said enough, being human fucking sucked.

He went from being able to go and do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to being completely dependent on his brothers for everything. It grated in the worst possible way. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t pulled his own weight. Even in his cursed form he’d taken care of himself, protected himself and Tristan. He’d had a use, but now….

Now he was completely useless.

His brothers protected him from spirits and fucked him over for their own entertainment. The little brother that he’d been sworn to protect and care for now took care of him. Tristan gave him shelter, food, clothes and spending money like he was some fucking child instead of a full-grown man.

He hated it.

He hated this whole fucked up situation. He’d been raised that taking charity was wrong. Unless a man was dead or dying, he should be taking care of himself and his family. If he’d been back in his own time, he would have simply picked up a sword and sold his services to the highest bidder and provided for himself. Beyond playing video games and surfing the internet, he had no modern day skills that he could use.

Hell, he couldn’t even drive a car. He didn’t have an education, could barely read English and at least once a day he forgot that he couldn’t simply walk through doors and walls and gave his jackass brothers something to laugh their asses off about.

If his brothers didn’t need him to help with the curse, he would have walked head on into traffic and gladly welcomed the curse back. As much as they pissed him off, he loved them. They were his family and the best friends that he’d ever had. For them he’d put up with the annoying soul mate that he’d rather throttle than fu-

“Looks like the funs about to start,” Finn suddenly announced with an eager smile that actually made Shayne a little nervous.

“Aye,” Quinn said, chuckling, “someone better go get Tadgh and Liam.”

“I’m on it!” he heard Aidan shout from the upstairs hallway.

Before he could ask what was going on, the doorbell was ringing and the bastards that loved to torment him were trying to yank his shirt off. After a short struggle, the bastards had his shirt off and were shoving him towards the front door.

“What the fuck are ye doing?” he shouted, wondering when the bullshit would end.

“Make sure to smile, lad,” Quinn said, giving him another push towards the door.

“Aye, it would probably be for the best if ye stopped grinding yer teeth,” Finn pointed out with a shooing gesture towards the door.

“And ye should probably stop clenching yer fists like that,” Aidan said as he popped back into the room.

His stomach dropped as realization hit and when it did, all he wanted to do was to make a run for it. When he may have taken a step back to do just that, he found his only exit blocked by Liam and Tristan.

“Just flex a little muscle and you’re in, big guy,” Tristan said with a wink and a chuckle that had him narrowing his eyes on the traitorous bastard as he was once again dragged back towards the door.

As he was shoved out the door, Shayne decided that there was perhaps a slight chance that he’d gone a tad overboard with screwing Tristan over for his own entertainment over the years. When he was thrown into the woman that fate and the damn curse had trapped him with, he decided that payback truly was a bitch.

To be continued……..

About the Author

R.L. Mathewson resides in New England where she enjoys romantic walks on the beach, lazy Sunday afternoons and hot cocoa ;)

Sorry, but it’s a little creepy talking about myself in the third person, lol.

I’m a single mother of two great kids. When I’m not spending time with them, I’m pretty much a workaholic. I’ve always been that way. Can’t stand down time. It’s just not my thing. I like to stay busy, which is why after I finish writing this sentence that I’m going to return to the Pyte/Sentinel series.

Thank you once again for taking a chance on Black Heart. I hope you enjoyed the book. If you’d like more information about this series or any other series that I write, please visit www.Rlmathewson.com

Thank you,

R.L. Mathewson






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