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Authors: R.L. Mathewson

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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 porn fetish.”

Tristan started to turn his head so that he could tell Shayne to go fuck 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 fucking 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 asshole 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 fucked

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.

It wasn’t happening. No fucking 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 asshole 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 fucking 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

fucking 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 fuck 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 fucking 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 fucked 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 fucking 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 fucked 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.

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