“Or maybe you want to explain how you were still a virgin at twenty-nine?” she demanded, taking him off guard and accomplishing the one thing that he’d never thought possible. She’d managed to mortify him more than his mother ever had.

“I’m embarrassed for him,” one of the men said in a loud whisper, earning several chuckles, and erasing any sliver of doubt that he’d ever had that these men were related to Shayne.

“Me too, lad,” another man said.

“Da’s probably rolling over in his grave from shame.”

“Aye, it’s a sad day for the men of our clan.”

“A sad day indeed.”

Just when he thought it was over, he heard the all too familiar long suffering sigh that had him rolling his eyes before the betraying bastard uttered a single syllable of bullshit.

“Now you see what I’ve been dealing with, lads? It hasn’t been easy dealing with a twenty-nine year old virgin with a  p**n  fetish.”

Tristan started to turn his head so that he could tell Shayne to go f**k off when the glare Marty was shooting him turned from murderous to something beyond words that actually frightened him and his poor balls enough for them to pull up tight and further out of her reach.

“Oh? Do we have another secret?” Marty asked mockingly with a hint of pure acid lacing her tone.

“Aw, shit,” one of the men, or him, whispered in fear, but he really wasn’t sure at the moment. The only thing that he was positive of at the moment was that his wife was seriously pissed off at him and whatever the men were here to do to him was suddenly looking better and better with each passing second.

“Let’s see if I’ve got this right so far,” Marty bit out, tightening her hold on the sheet to keep herself covered as she got to her knees and in his face. It took everything he had not to scoot back from her and make a run for it, but common sense kept his ass firmly planted on the bed.

He was in deep shit and there was nowhere to run.

“You’ve kept the reason why you were a virgin all to yourself. You gave me some lame ass excuse for keeping the bedroom down the hall locked up-“

“Ah, that’s my room,” Shayne interrupted her, probably thinking that he was helping.

He wasn’t.

“Stop f**king helping!”

“Another secret!” Marty snapped, moving closer and almost falling off the bed when her legs got tangled in the sheets. He reached out and steadied her, only to have his hands slapped away the second that she was safe.

“I’m sick of the secrets and the lies, Tristan! I want to know what the hell is going on here! I want to know why you pushed me away and broke my heart!” she cried out as the first tear trickled down her cheek, making him feel like the biggest prick on earth.

He tried to reach for her and take her into his arms, but she wasn’t having that.

“I want to know why you were such an ass**le to me one minute and begging me for a chance the next. I want to know who they are!” she said, her voice breaking as she gestured to the men shifting nervously around the room. “And I want to know why you nearly destroyed my heart last month over that woman!”

“What woman?” he found himself asking. He had absolutely no idea who she was talking about. There had never been any other women.

“She means yer ma, lad,” Shayne said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“That was your mother?” Marty demanded tightly before adding, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“She’s not my mother,” he said evenly.

“You should have told me!”

“It was none of your business!” he snapped back, only realizing how badly he’d f**ked up when he saw the other men in the room wince in sympathy and Marty’s expression turned hurt.

“As much fun as this is,” Liam said, pulling Tristan’s attention away from his wife and probably saving his poor balls, “I think that it’s time that we got this over with.”

Chapter 29

“Fine,” 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, she had to wonder if he really knew her at all.

For the past month she’d been battling with fatigue and fears that she was going insane. 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 out of 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 phase 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,” she said, pausing in front of the large man blocking the bathroom.

Something in her expression must have given away the testicle mutilation 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, she 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, she 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 he 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.