“I know, but still……”

“Still, what?”

Shayne shrugged, “It’s Marty, lad.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. Leave it up to Shayne to get to the heart of the matter. Marty was out there alone, cold, and wet and could be hurt. Even after all these years the thought of her less than happy was enough to piss him off and get him off his ass.

Tristan paused the game and tossed the controller on the couch. “Don’t f**k with my character or I’ll put child blockers on the internet and put a halt to your free  p**n ,” he warned.

Shayne flipped him off and mumbled a promise to sign Tristan up on every g*y hookup site he could find if he came between him and his  p**n . Knowing that it wasn’t an idle threat, Tristan kept his mouth shut and walked to the door. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get Marty here, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to beg. If he had to throw her over his shoulder and carry her spoiled ass back here he would.

He grabbed his keys, a small black plastic box and slipped it into his back pocket, and headed out, not bothering with a shirt since it would just get wet anyway. Within seconds of walking outside he was completely soaked.

A minute later he was strolling up the short driveway towards an equally soaked and muddy Marty. She was sitting on the front stoop, shivering and looking seriously pissed.

“Couldn’t get in?” he stupidly asked.

She shrugged. “Yes, I could, but it’s so much nicer out here, don’t you think?”

He sighed heavily, wondering why he’d left his warm house for this shit. “Listen, I came to invite you back to my house.”

“No, thank you,” she bit out through clenched teeth.

That brought him up short. “You’d rather stay out here and freeze than come to my house?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked, unable to hide his confusion.

She pushed her wet hair out of her face and shook her head. “Just go away, Tristan. I don't want anything to do with you.”

Instead of doing what she’d asked, he ground his teeth and stepped past her. He pulled the small black box from his back pocket and kneeled in front of the door. In less than a minute, he had the front door unlocked and opened.

“How did you do that?”

He completely ignored her as he walked off. Her words hurt more than anything. He wasn’t about to hang around and let her know just how much.

Chapter 6

“So, what exactly are my duties?” Marty asked her father for the hundredth time as they walked through the second security door that led to the back offices where his office was located as well as those belonging to the detectives and supervisors. It’s also where the evidence locker, files and the backup artillery were located.

Hank ran a hand over short hair that was more gray than brown these days. It was a nervous sign that Marty was well acquainted with. He always did it when he had to tell her something that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Like the time when he had to explain why she had boobs at eleven when none of the other girls did, what a period was, and her absolute favorite, the "sex talk" that left him hyperventilating.

Even in his late forties, her father was a well-respected and feared man. He was probably in the best shape of his life and he didn’t take shit from anyone. Tristan actually reminded her of him except that Tristan was a lot colder and seemed like he didn’t care about anything or anyone outside of his family.

He opened the door leading to the “pit”, the area where the offices were located. In the corner was a desk for her father’s secretary and in the middle of the large room were several desks for the uniformed officers to share and a coffee area in front of the break room. Along the far back wall were several more desks for the secretaries that served the entire station.

Hank waited for her to enter while he held the door open for her as he shifted the box he was carrying to his other arm. Marty had to shift the large box in her arms and the two bags hanging off her arms so that she could get through the door.

“Hey, Hank,” one of the uniformed officers said as he walked past them.

Marty looked around the pit and sighed with relief. Sunday was probably the best day for her to start her new job since most of the officers were on the road and there were no secretaries working today. Since it was her father’s day off, it would give her a chance to find out what was expected of her without constant interruption.

Hank stopped in front of an office and gave her what could only be described as a strained smile. “This is it,” he said with false cheerfulness.

Marty’s eyes narrowed first on his face, yeah, he was up to something, and then moved to the plaque on the door. She swore under her breath as she read the name, Detective Black.

“Ah, Dad?”

He unlocked the door and walked in. “Come in and get acquainted with your new office.” He moved to the side so that she could enter.

She walked into the office, which was surprisingly larger than her father's and a lot neater. To her right was a small sitting area with several comfortable looking chairs and a small coffee table, several filing cabinets lined the wall, a large plush couch lined the back wall and two large desks faced each other in the middle of the room. One of the desks held a few folders, obviously just tossed there while the other desk was clearly Tristan’s since it had a computer, pens and folders. “Wow…”

“This office was meant for two detectives, but since our budget only affords us three detectives on payroll, Tristan got his own office,” Hank said as he shifted his eyes nervously away from Marty.

“So,” she placed her box on the empty desk, “was this the office the person you hired for my position last year used?”

Hank shifted guiltily. “Maybe, I don’t remember,” he lied.

“Uh huh.” She walked past her father and closed the door halfway. “Dad, you told me that the guy you hired last year left screaming and crying after a week of being here. Did Tristan have anything to do with that?”

He visibly winced as he ran a hand over his hair, again. “Who’s to say what happened? I personally thought the guy was a bit skittish. He wasn’t my first choice, but then again with our small budget we can’t be too picky,” he explained, giving her a sheepish smile.

She folded her arms over her chest. “Dad, did you tell Tristan that he was going to have to share this office?”

Once again, he smoothed down his hair. “Well, I told him that as soon as we could find someone to fill the position that he would have to share the office. You know how tough it is to compete with the FBI and CIA when it comes to money and benefits.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “We’re lucky we were able to steal you away.”

She sighed heavily, “Dad, you know that I’ve always wanted to work here.”

“I’m very proud of you, sweetie. I can’t wait until you’re done with your thesis and it’s official.”

“Until then….,” she prompted.

He shifted uncomfortably. “Until then, I’m going to need you to help with paperwork, phone calls, and research. It’s not quite a secretary job and not quite what you’re going to be doing when you start your regular job here, but we need the help and you need the money.”