Page 16 of Black Heart

Shayne pressed a finger to his lips. “Just out of curiosity, Patricia. When ye were alive, where did ye think ye’d end up when ye died? Heaven or hell?”

Patrick shifted nervously. “I didn’t really think about it.”

“What do ye think, lad? Where do ye think he’ll end up?” Shayne asked Tristan, never taking his eyes away from the man fidgeting nervously in front of him.

Tristan studied Patrick for a long moment, taking in the pipe sticking out of his neck and guessed that it didn’t land there by accident. “I’d say hell,” Tristan said with a shrug.

“What? No way! I’ve led a good life.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” Shayne said as he placed his hand over Patrick’s heart.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Patrick demanded, only to groan as his eyes widened in terror when a black light emanated from his chest.

“Well, I guess ye were right, lad,” Shayne murmured as they watched the darkness quickly spread.

“Wait, what are you do-” Patrick started to ask only to disappear in a puff of black smoke before he could finish. The smoke quickly disappeared as though it had never been, taking all evidence of their unwanted guest along with it.

Tristan picked up the second controller and tossed it to Shayne. “Why the hell did you wait so long? He was getting on my fucking nerves.”

“He entertained me for a bit there,” he explained, shrugging it off.

“Well, as long as you were entertained,” Tristan said dryly.

Shayne’s gaze shot towards the front door before he grinned.

“What?” Tristan asked, not liking that gleam of anticipation in the bastard’s eyes.

Just as quickly as the smile came, it was gone. Shayne cleared his throat. “Nothing, lad.” Then, with a flick of his hand, he sent Tristan’s drink flying off the arm of the chair and onto Tristan’s lap, soaking him.

CHAPTER6

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tristan snapped as he jumped to his feet.

“Ye might want to take that off,” Shayne said as Tristan yanked off his shirt.

Tristan shook his head in disgust as he snapped, “Let me guess. It entertained you to do that.”

Shayne’s lips twitched. “Ye could say that,” he said as Tristan used his tee-shirt to dry his chest.

Before Tristan could retaliate, a knock sounded at the door.

“Ye better get that, lad,” Shayne drawled.

Tristan shot him a glare before he tossed the shirt on the coffee table and stormed off towards the door. Whoever was waiting started to pound on the door before he reached the foyer.

“Calm the hell down! I’m coming!”

He was in absolutely no fucking mood for this tonight.

Between his mother’s constant nagging, Shayne fucking with his head, and being stuck on medical leave with nothing to do, he was pissed. Top that all off with seeing Marty today and being chased off by that prick, and he was in the mood to kill someone. Well, unless it was a Girl Scout. He might let one of them live if they had some of those caramel cookies that he was addicted to.

The pounding started again. “Un-fucking real,” Tristan muttered as he unlocked the door and yanked it open. His brows shot up as he took in Marty struggling beneath the weight of his mother’s largest wicker picnic basket on his front step.

* * *

“A little helphere would be nice,” Marty said as she stumbled to the side, only to sigh in relief when Tristan reached over and grabbed the basket and-

She may have whimpered.

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