Page 52 of Black Heart

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your answer won’t affect your job one way or the other,” her father promised, but the look on Tristan’s face told a completely different story. If she agreed with her father, Tristan would make her life a living hell.

Perhaps she should tactfully excuse herself from this one. Working with him was hard enough. She didn’t want to make things worse. She needed this job and Tristan lived for the job. Maybe it would be best if-

“Do you think that Tristan has an anger management problem?” her father asked, leaving her speechless.

Did she think that Tristan had an anger management problem? For a moment, she actually considered having her father committed for asking something that would be crystal clear to a blind man. Tristan had a short fuse and a temper that would scare the devil.

Then again, it really wasn’t her place and she shouldn’t get involved. She opened her mouth to explain exactly that when she caught Tristan’s eyes and watched as he mouthed the words, “Don’t even think about it.”

So, of course, she did what she thought was right.

“Why yes, yes, I believe that he does have a bit of an anger problem,” Marty said sweetly as she did her best to appear innocent.

Her father smiled triumphantly as Tristan let out a very low, but sexy growl that promised all sorts of revenge, but she didn’t care. The opportunity to put Tristan in his place was just too good to pass up. Right now, he could make her life a living hell and it would be well worth it.

“There you have it. I suggest that you get started on your sessions. There’s a time limit on this and luckily enough for you, there’s a meeting tonight,” her father said as he handed her a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Marty asked, frowning as she looked down at the paper, noting the letterhead from the community center with a list of times and room numbers.

“That would be the schedule for his group meetings. Your new job is to drive him there twice a week for the next month,” he said in a tone that she knew better than to argue with.

Still...

“How exactly do you suggest I go about forcing someone into a car who has at least ten inches and a hundred pounds on me?” she asked, genuinely curious. Was he going to let her carry a stun gun or something? Otherwise, she really didn’t see this plan of his working.

“He’ll go,” her father said with a shrug as he stood up.

“Or what?” Tristan asked as he got to his feet. She couldn’t help but wonder the same thing as she stood up and moved to leave.

“Or else you’ll go back on full medical until you complete all of your therapy sessions,” her father said before looking at her.

“Do you want to speak with me?” Marty asked, glad that she sounded so damn casual about the whole thing. She’d never been comfortable talking to her dad about boys, never mind sex.

Then again, her father had been just as nervous as her during their chats about the birds and the bees. It hadn’t mattered how uncomfortable the whole thing made him, he’d always taken his responsibility to talk with her about sex seriously. Granted, she couldn’t remember a single conversation about sex that hadn’t ended with him hyperventilating and needing a six-pack of beer. When she finally got boobs, he’d pushed that responsibility off onto Beth after Marty interrogated him for an hour and a half about her bra options. He’d tried to answer every single one of them as best as he could, but even she could tell at eleven years old that he’d been in over his head.

“Only if there’s something that you want to talk to me about,” Hank said as he looked pointedly at Tristan.

Was there? She followed her father’s gaze and wasn’t surprised to find Tristan watching her. If they hadn’t screwed each other over, she might have said yes, but Tristan clearly didn’t want to be with her and she’d have to be a moron to keep ignoring the signs.

“No, there’s nothing to talk about,” Marty said as she turned to leave, wishing that wasn’t the case. She also wished that she wasn’t in love with a man who haunted her dreams and couldn’t seem to care less about her.

CHAPTER19

“Wow, what a bitch,” the blonde airhead, as he now thought of her, said as Marty stormed past him and snatched the keys out of his hand.

She unlocked the car and climbed in, but not before throwing him a look that dared him to bitch about her driving. He bit his tongue as he walked around the car and made his way to the passenger side. Unfortunately, he was forced to walk through the two dead women and received a shock of cold dread that surged through his body and into his bones before it abruptly disappeared.

It was pure terror crawling down his spine and he’d always hated it, especially when he was little. When he was a toddler, he would cry for hours, leaving his birth parents with absolutely no idea what to do. It didn’t help matters that they’d barely been out of high school when they had him. Their story was typical, but the results weren’t.

They weren’t ready to handle a kid, never mind a kid like him. He couldn’t imagine dealing with a young child who cried for hours on end, would freak out over everything and flip out if they went anywhere near a cemetery, nursing home, or a hospital. If that wasn’t bad enough, he was constantly getting hurt. Living with him must have been stressful and he couldn’t say that he blamed his parents for what they did.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be helping us?” the brunette demanded as she tried to climb into the car only to discover that her foot went through the floor.

“What the hell?” the blonde gasped.

Tristan sighed with satisfaction as he got comfortable in his seat. Driving provided him with a much-needed break. It was the reason why he’d always loved going for long drives. It was the one place where he could find some peace. The only spirit that could accompany him was Shayne, but then again, he wasn’t really a spirit.

“I need to make a quick stop before we go deal with your anger issues,” Marty said distractedly as she pulled out of the parking lot.

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