Black Heart Page 48


"No, it can't," Marty said firmly. Her eyes pleaded with him not to f**k this up.

"I don't want to lose you, Marty," he said softly, praying that she backed off.

"Then don't," she said, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes and he knew that the choice was no longer his to make. It didn't matter that this wasn't something that he wanted to do. He'd f**ked up and hurt Marty again and that wasn't something that he could live with any longer.

He reached out and took her beautiful face into his hands, tenderly wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumbs as he leaned in and brushed his lips against her trembling ones. "Okay," he said softly. "Let's go talk."

"Wait a minute!" Denny said, sounding desperate and for good reason. "Just come and eat dinner with us and then you can go talk afterwards."

"You're on your own," Tristan said with a shrug as he dropped his hands away from Marty's face and took her hand into his.

"You betraying son of a bitch!" Denny snapped, shooting an anxious glance towards his truck.

"You'll never make it," Tristan pointed out as he headed across the street with Marty.

"There's only one way to find out," he heard Denny say as he headed towards his house with Marty.

"Denny Black! Where do you think you're going?" he heard his mother demand and he probably would have laughed his ass off at his brother if he wasn't dreading this conversation.

"Do you mind if we go for a walk instead?" Marty asked and as much as he would love to say yes and buy himself a little more time, he couldn't. If she needed to talk then he'd rather just get it over with.

"Not right now," he said, heading for his house.

Once they were inside she got right to the point. "Do you want to end this?"

"No," he said with absolutely no hesitation.

He didn't want to end this. He didn't want to lose her and be forced to live without her ever again. Right now he wanted to make up for lost time and make every minute count. He sure as hell didn't want to waste any of those precious minutes talking about bullshit that was best left in the past.

She studied him for a moment before she nodded firmly, obviously accepting his answer. "Okay," she said, sounding relieved as she abruptly turned and headed up the stairs to the second floor.

"Where are you going?" he asked, admittedly confused. "I thought that you wanted to talk."

"I do," she said, shrugging as she shot him a look over her shoulder, slowing her pace. "But only when you're ready to talk, Tristan. I'm not going to force you to do something that you don’t want to do, but I needed to know where we stood."

When he could only stand there staring at her, probably like an idiot, she turned right back around and headed upstairs, disappearing around the corner and leaving him more confused than he'd ever felt before.

"Shayne?" he said quietly, knowing that he was probably close by.

"Aye, lad?" Shayne asked, materializing right next to him.

"Is this a trap?" he had to ask.

"I'm not sure," Shayne admitted, sounding unsure, which wasn't exactly comforting at the moment. "Maybe ye should make a run for it, lad."

Tristan turned a glare on the man. "How exactly is that helpful?" he demanded in a harsh whisper as his eyes darted back to the top of the staircase to make sure that they were still alone.

"That's all I have right now, lad," Shayne admitted sheepishly.

"It's not very helpful," Tristan said, slowly exhaling as he considered his options.

"It is what it is, lad," Shayne said with a shrug.

"Well, it isn't much," Tristan said, deciding that he'd rather get this over with. He didn't want to do this, but he'd hurt her and he'd do anything that he could to make things better.

He forced himself to walk up the stairs as dread filled him.

"Don't let me f**k this up," he prayed as he walked towards his room.

He didn't see her as he walked into his room. As he was turning around to leave he spotted her shoes on the floor. A few feet away from those he spotted her nylons and a few feet away from those he spotted her pinstriped skirt lying in the doorway of his bathroom. More than a little curious, he followed the trail of clothing and pushed the bathroom door open as his eyes followed the rest of the trail to the foot of his tub where the trail ended with her bra.

He looked up and couldn't help but groan when he spotted Marty surrounded by bubbles in his tub as she absently twirled a pair of lacy pink panties on her finger. When she saw him, she gave him a teasing smile as she sent the panties flying in his direction with a simple flick of her hand. He caught them as he leaned back against the doorframe.

"I thought you wanted to talk," he said, wondering just how much she was going to want to know and if he could give it to her.

"Not unless you do," she said with a shake of her head as she leaned back against the tiled wall and closed her eyes.

"I don't," he admitted softly.

"Then we won't talk," she simply said.

"Then what do you want to do?" he asked, wondering where they were supposed to go from here. Thankfully, Marty had an idea.

"You could start by getting me a beer," she said in a teasing tone that relaxed something deep inside of him.

"A beer?" he repeated, wondering how he managed to win over a woman that he clearly didn't deserve.

"Mmmmhmmmm, ice cold," she said with a cute little sigh as she settled more comfortably into the tub.

"I think I can handle that."

*-*-*-*

"Help me, please!" a woman cried, startling Marty wide-awake.

She frantically looked around the large bathroom, but didn't see anything. After a moment she nervously laughed it off even as she strained her ears for a television or a radio, anything to explain the fluttering in her chest and the tiny hairs standing at attention on the back of her neck.

After a moment she shook it off. She'd obviously been dreaming, she told herself, feeling foolish. She laid back in the tub and just started to relax when she heard movement in the bedroom.

"Tristan?" she said, wondering what was wrong with her and why she was reacting so strongly to a dream.

"Sorry it took so long. Mom called and wanted to know if we wanted her to bring over some food," he said, chuckling while he walked into the room, carrying two longneck bottles of beer as self-preservation kicked in and made her forget all about the strange dream.

"You told her no, right?" she asked, already moving to climb out of the tub and make a run for it just in case. She really didn't think that she could take anymore of Beth's meddling tonight.

"I did," he said, sighing as he handed her a beer. "It took a while and my father's help to get her to listen," he explained as he pulled his holster off his belt and placed it on the counter.

"So, she's not coming here?" Marty clarified, knowing the woman would probably embarrass the living hell out of them with more questions and suggestions.

"No, but you should probably know that Denny tried screwing us over by sending her over here so that he could make his escape," he said, chuckling as he toed off his shoes.