Black Heart (19 page)

right.

“What about me?” a familiar deep voice asked right next to her freaking ear!

Oh no, the man she’d been avoiding since Friday night had found her. This could not be

good. Not at all. She’d publically humiliated him. Actually, according to the web hits, it was

more like globally humiliated him. Looked like it was her turn to become a web sensation.

She turned her head slowly, too frightened to force this moment. She would not cry or

scream or run and scream and cry for her daddy. She would not! Mostly because he wasn’t

cuffed and naked this time and he would most definitely catch her. Still……

Before she could entertain any real escape plans he was kissing her. Tristan Black was

kissing her! In public! Like he had every right in the world to do it no less. She moaned

against his lips and nearly whimpered when he pulled away.

“Did you miss me, baby?”

“Er…”

“I just wanted to return these,” he said as he made a show of reaching into his pocket.

Oh no, he wouldn’t do that would he….he did! He placed the silver handcuffs in the middle

of table. It seemed like the entire bar went quiet except for the occasional gasp.

“Next time it’s my turn,” he said with a wink before he stood up and strolled out of the

bar.

Her face burned as every pair of eyes moved between her and the cuffs. It didn’t take a

genius to put two and two together.

Shit.

“You slut!” her three friends said in unison. It would have been funny if she wasn’t sure

that was the new consensus in the bar.

-
-
-

“Oh, lad, ye really shouldn’t have done that to her,” Shayne said from the passenger seat

of his truck.

Tristan kept his eyes locked on the front door of the bar as he drove away. If he knew

Marty, and he was pretty sure that he knew her better than anyone else, she’d be storming

out that door to kick his ass any minute now.

“Ye need to go back in there and apologize, maybe tell the people in there that ye were

joking,” Shayne said.

“Not happening,” Tristan said distractedly.

“Lad, if ye don’t fix this I…I think whatever chances ye had with the lass will be good

and buried. Are ye ready to finally be rid of her forever?”

He gave a casual shrug that he wasn’t feeling and said, “It’s going to happen sooner or

later. Might as well get it over with now.” Before the words were out of his mouth, his

stomach gave a violent twist at the idea of never seeing Marty again.

She aggravated him, pissed him off, got on his last nerve, but he’d be damned if she

didn’t make him smile, laugh and made him glad to be alive. Without her, his life was going

to amount to absolutely nothing.

He shifted in his seat as he pressed on the gas. “I need a drink.”

Chapter
14

“Tristan, I have to be honest. I’m a little surprised to see you here today,” Dr. Bryne

said, picking up a pen and a legal pad. He watched as Tristan added a sugar packet to his

coffee and pulled out a large apple fritter from a small white pastry bag. “Well, besides

having breakfast in my office that is.”

“Didn’t we have an appointment?” Tristan asked as he took a bite out of his fritter,

careful not to spill any of the apple filling on his tie or shirt.

“No.”

“Are you sure? I could have sworn that we had a meeting first thing this morning,”

Tristan said in a thoughtful tone as he added another packet of sugar to his coffee.

Dr. Bryne narrowed his eyes on Tristan. “You know that we didn’t have a meeting. The

fact that you told my eight o’clock appointment to sit down and shut up when he

complained about you taking his time slot, because you said and I quote, ‘the voices in my

head are taking over and it's every man for himself’ lets me know that you’re well aware

that we didn’t have an appointment.”

Tristan’s lips twitched as Dr. Bryne continued to glare at him. “Oh, come on, Doc! You

know that you’re happy to see me.”

“Tristan,” he sighed. “You’ve been skipping our appointments for the last couple of

weeks even though it’s a condition for returning to work. Then out of the blue you storm in

here and scare the hell out of all of my patients and secretary and you expect me to be

happy about this?”

“Yes,” Tristan simply said. “So, what do you want to talk about, Doc?” Tristan asked as

he sipped his coffee. He hoped this damn meeting went as planned. He needed it to go well.

“Well, since you’re here and all I guess we could talk about a certain video that made its

way onto the internet this weekend,” Dr. Bryne said casually, too casually.

Tristan tried not to wince at the reminder of that video. “That was nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

Tristan sighed as he put down his coffee and leaned back against the leather couch. “It

was just someone getting back at me for being me.”

“Meaning?”

He shrugged. “I’m an asshole, plain and simple.”

“That doesn’t seem to bother you.”

Tristan pursed his lips, thinking it over. “It’s a character flaw.”

“I see,” Dr. Bryne said and Tristan could tell the man was struggling not to smile.

“I’m glad that you do.”

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something, but since you've been

skipping our sessions lately I haven’t had the chance.”

Tristan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy with the voices in my

head and all. Plus those damn pink bunnies are really demanding.”

Dr. Bryne gave him a stern look, but continued. “I wanted to ask how things were

working out with Marty. I know that the two of you used be childhood friends and drifted

apart for a while there. It must be nice catching up after all this time.”

Well, that was unexpected. “It’s fine,” he answered quickly. He hadn’t come here to talk

about Marty. Hell, he’d spent most of the night working and trying to forget about her. Not

that it actually worked, but at least he got a lot of work done.

“Is there something in particular that you wanted to talk about, Tristan?”

“Well, I was wondering if you would sign off on my sheet so that I could be released

from medical.”

Dr. Bryne frowned. “From what I’ve been told, you’re already working as if you’re off

medical. You’re driving, responding to calls and making arrests. Why do you suddenly care

about a piece of paper?”

“Careful, lad. He’s a tricky bastard,” Shayne said from his spot behind Dr. Bryne’s desk.

Tristan’s gaze automatically shot to Shayne. Dr. Bryne followed the movement and

frowned.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” Tristan said as he turned his attention back to the doctor. “Now, about that

signature. You’re right. I have been working, however, as long as I have that medical

restriction hanging over my head, I have to bring Marty along and that’s putting her in

danger.”

“So, don’t do anything dangerous.”

Tristan barely stopped himself from swearing. He took a calming breath before he

continued. “That’s not really a choice for me, Doc. We’re not a very large department and

as a supervisor I have to respond to a lot of regular calls.”

“I see.”

Tristan sure as hell hoped that he did. If he could get off medical, he would only have to

worry about dealing with Marty in their office. He’d stick around until she got serious with

another guy. Then he’d leave and never come back. He would never chance seeing her

married to another man. It would destroy him.

“Were you able to get your doctor to sign off on your shoulder?”

“Yes, they signed off last week.” Mostly because they wanted to make sure that they

never had to see him again. The terms may have been along the lines of him never ever

returning there even if he was dying. It was an easy promise to make. So what if he now

had to drive two hours to the nearest medical office if he needed an exam? It was well

worth it.

“Okay, then let’s talk about the shooting. How does it make you feel now?”

His eyes shot to Shayne in question. He had to tread carefully and with Shayne reading

through his file behind the good doctor’s back he had the upper hand. He hadn’t missed

Shayne's soft chuckles over the past couple of minutes either.

Shayne’s face scrunched up in distaste. “Well, that’s…that’s just not right.”

Tristan forced himself to remain seated and not walk over there and tear the file away

from Shayne so that he could read it for himself. No doubt the man was just fucking with

his head.

“Tristan?” Dr. Bryne said, drawing his attention.

Oh, that’s right.

He cleared his throat pointedly. “You wanted to know how I feel about the shooting?” he

asked loudly, hoping Shayne would stop laughing his ass off and give him the information

that he needed.

“He has no problem with yer outlook on the shooting, lad. He has other concerns about

ye, so just answer honestly,” Shayne said without looking up from file.

What? That wasn’t right. He was only supposed to be here about the shooting. What else

could there be? He was a freaking paragon of sanity and good sense, goddammit! Okay,

granted he was having a powerful spirit sneak a peek at his file, but that was neither here

nor there.

“I don’t feel much about the shooting, Doc, except regret for those boys. They’re the

ones who are going to have a tough time getting their lives back to normal and accepting

what happened to them. If you want to know if I feel any pity or remorse over killing that

prick, the answer is no. I don’t. It was a clean kill and a necessary one,” he said, using the

same tone he used when talking to the prosecutor.

Dr. Bryne nodded solemnly as he wrote something down on the legal pad resting on his

lap. Tristan shot a look at Shayne, but Shayne was already on it. He leaned over the

doctor’s shoulder and chuckled.

“He’s just writing a reminder to pick up milk, lad,” Shayne said as he returned to the

desk. Almost immediately he began chuckling. Tristan’s hands clenched and unclenched.

What he wouldn’t give to see that damn file.

“So, Doc, do you think that you could sign the release?” Tristan asked, trying to get the

man to focus on the task at hand.

Dr. Bryne sighed heavily. “No, I think you could really benefit from some more

therapy.”

That was it. Tristan shot off the couch. “What the hell does that mean?”

Dr. Bryne jumped back in his chair, almost falling over. He cleared his throat. “Hank

thought you could benefit from….um….”

“Just say it!” Tristan snapped.

“Ah, lad….” Shayne said, trying to get his attention.

Tristan being Tristan, he ignored him. Once his temper snapped, there was usually no

hauling it in.

“I’m sick of this bullshit. You and I both know that there is nothing wrong with me. I’m

not losing sleep over that prick and I’m ready to go back to work. The only reason to hold

me back is if you felt that I was traumatized from that shooting and we both know that I

would not hesitate to pull the trigger again if it was necessary.”

“Lad, it’s not that. It’s-“

Tristan rammed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have patience for this shit or the

time it takes out of my schedule to come here and play touchy feely, Doc. So, do us both a

favor and sign me off so that I can do my fucking job!”

“H-Hank thought you could use some anger therapy,” Dr. Bryne stuttered.

Well…..hell.

He shot a glare at Shayne who was glaring right back. “Next time shut the fuck up, lad,

so I can tell ye that they think ye have an anger problem, ye dumb bastard!”

“Oh,” Tristan said, frowning. He thought it over for a minute before asking, “My

temper’s not that bad, is it?”

His question was met with twin expressions of utter disbelief.

“It’s not,” he bit out.

Dr. Bryne carefully got to his feet and walked over to his desk. He frowned down at

Tristan’s open file. Then shook his head as if he was shaking away a thought and picked up

an appointment card and wrote something on the back. He walked over to Tristan and

handed him the card, careful not to get too close to him.

“I’m not going to require you to come to anymore one on one sessions,” he said,

sounding relieved, really relieved. “But, I am going to recommend that you finish five anger

management group meetings. They meet twice every day. I suggest that you take advantage

of this opportunity and work on your anger.”

Tristan snatched the card away and stormed off towards the door, forgetting his coffee.

“This is bullshit! I have the fucking patience of a saint!” He slammed the door behind him

and faced the waiting room where several very frightened patients noticeably cowered.