It wasn’t happening. No f**king way. A year ago, he might not have cared what happened to him, but things were different now. Now he had Marty in his life and they were expecting a baby. She was pretty pissed at him right now, but he was an ass**le and used to pissing people off so he knew that it was only a matter of time and groveling before she forgave him.

No, he definitely wasn’t worried about his wife forgiving him, but he was worried about her. He didn’t know what these men wanted from them, besides killing him apparently, and he wasn’t taking the chance that they had the same plans for his wife. The first chance he got, he was sending Marty away and Shayne, the betraying bastard, was going to keep her safe until he could come for her.

Money was going to be a major obstacle in getting Marty somewhere safe. He had a little over twenty grand left in the bank, the money that he’d planned on spending on their honeymoon, but he doubted that would last them very long, not with a baby on the way. They were going to have to be prepared to move at a moment’s notice and hope that these men didn’t have the same connection with him that Shayne had. If they did…..

Well, he’d worry about that later. Right now he needed to get some answers and figure a way out of this without having to screw up their lives.

“We need to explain a few things before we-“ Liam began, but Tristan was done playing these games. He was going to get his answers and then he was going to do whatever it took to send these bastards packing.

“And I need to know why my wife is suddenly caught up in this bullshit,” he said in a bored tone, cutting the man off as a shot of stabbing pain went through his shoulder while he did his best not to react.

It hurt, it really f**king hurt. Granted, not all of his arm and shoulder hurt. Some of it was numb like the tips of his fingers, but the parts that hurt more than made up for it. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he didn’t think that it had hurt this much after he’d been shot. Not screaming in agony when his shoulder brushed up against the back of the couch when he sat down took some effort, but he managed it.

He wasn’t about to let any of them know just how bad his arm was. It was something that could be used against him and right now he needed every advantage that he could get. The only one of them that he had to worry about was Shayne. He’d never regretted his connection to the man more than he did right now. If Shayne opened his big f**king mouth and let them know that he was at a disadvantage, they’d probably put more men on Marty, thinking that he wasn’t much of a threat. That’s exactly what he would have done if Marty hadn’t been pregnant.

“She’s always been involved, Tadgh,” Liam said quietly as he sat down in Shayne’s favorite chair.

“Bullshit,” Tristan snapped back, in too much pain to pretend to play along.

How in the f**k could something hurt this much?

“This was always the tricky part,” Shayne said on a sigh as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall.

“At least he always handles this part better than Declean does,” the man standing guard at the double doors said with a chuckle.

“It’s a very emotional time for me, ye son of a bitch!” the man standing near the far left corner of the room, presumably Declean, yelled.

“Hey!” the man in the right corner snapped just as every man in the room’s expression turned murderous.

“Watch yer f**king mouth!” Shayne snapped, shaking his head in disgust.

“Call Ma’ that again, lad, and ye’ll be able to taste yer balls in the back of yer throat,” Liam said with a glare.

“I didn’t mean it like that and ye know it!” Declean muttered defensively as he continued to pout in the corner, reminding him so much of Shayne at the moment and confirming an earlier suspicion.

“You’re all brothers,” he said hollowly, the over-the-top pout confirming it. They all looked similar with their black hair, green eyes, large builds and similar mannerisms and expressions.

“Yes,” Liam said with an approving nod.

He felt a little lightheaded, a mixture of the pain and the fear that what Shayne said earlier was true. He wasn’t sure what it meant or how it was possible, but he needed to know. He needed to know for himself, for Marty and for their baby. Christ, a baby. What if their child was as f**ked up as he was? His stomach twisted at the thought of his child going through the bullshit that he’d gone through growing up.

Was never going to f**king happen.

“And yer our little brother, lad,” Shayne explained softly with the same smile that used to help him get through the day when he didn’t think that it was humanly possible. Now it just left him feeling terrified.

What did this mean for his baby and for-

“How exactly is he your brother?” Marty asked as she walked around the couch and took the empty spot on the couch to his right out of habit. She was always careful of his left arm, taking great care to avoid touching it most of the time.

She had no clue how f**ked up his left arm was right now and he had no plans on making her worried by telling her. They had enough to deal with without bothering over something that could be fixed with a bag of ice.

“You need to go back upstairs,” he said, hoping that for once in their lives that she would just listen to him. But of course she didn’t.

“Nope, not going to happen,” she said as she glanced around the room.

“How did you get past Finn?” Liam asked with a frown.

“You mean the big crybaby upstairs?” Marty asked, looking thoughtful.

“Why would you call him a crybaby?” Liam asked, looking confused while Shayne looked quite amused and for good reason.

“Probably because she left him crying on the floor curled up in the fetal position,” Tristan said with a sigh, knowing his wife’s temper well enough by now to know what she was capable of.

Three weeks later and Tristan was still cringing on behalf of the dumb bastard that had made the mistake of shooting his mouth off about how the Chief’s daughter had f**ked her way into having permanent job security. If the man had known that Marty had been standing right behind him, he probably wouldn’t have called her a whore. Then again, if he had known that she was behind him, he probably would have been prepared for Marty when she decided to show him exactly how qualified she was to work for a police department.

Personally, he thought the guy got off easy for calling her a slut and insinuating that she did her best work on her knees. She’d only stolen his club, dropped him to his knees and kept him there until he was crying and apologizing for being an ass**le. Hank, after he’d had time to cool off, had suspended the young officer for violating several sexual harassment rules and sent the bastard home.

Tristan had kind of felt bad for the guy, being made to cry like that in front of the whole squad. He’d made sure to catch up with the man in the parking lot and shared that thought as he beat the shit out of him. He’d probably still be explaining things to the young officer if his father and brother hadn’t arrived to rush the man to the hospital to have his jaw wired shut.

“You might want to go check on him,” Marty said with a careless shrug that had Shayne chuckling.

Several of the men cursed as their forms began to fade, but before any of them could leave, Finn appeared on the living room floor, curled up tightly in a ball and gasping for air which was a bit odd since he didn’t need to breathe.