Black Heart

Page 6

“I know, but I should go say hello. Her dad is my boss after all and I haven’t had a chance to say hello to her since I moved back into the neighborhood,” he said, bullshitting them or himself, he really didn’t give a damn.
“Tell her that dinner will be in two hours when Denny gets here.”
“Sure thing,” Tristan said as he walked towards the house, slowing his pace on the off chance that he’d change his mind like the thousand other times before and simply walk away from her.
As he took the front steps two at a time, he realized that something about this time was different.
There would be no turning away this time.
*-*-*-*
Tristan jogged up the stairs, taking them two at a time, but somehow managed to force himself to slow down before he reached his old room. The door was open and he could see Marty sitting on his childhood bed among a pile of books, reading. He stepped into the room and leaned back against the doorframe, content to watch her for a few minutes until even that wasn’t enough, until he needed more than just to watch her from a distance.
“Hey, Marty,” he said quietly when he knew that he should have just walked away.
Startled, Marty let out an adorable squeal as she jumped back. Unfortunately the movement caused her to tilt to the side and fall off the bed. Cursing, he shoved away from the doorframe. His long strides quickly ate up the distance. Before she managed to hit the floor, he was there. He scooped her up into his arms, forcing himself to ignore just how good it felt to touch her, and quickly placed her safely back on the bed. Once she was settled in the middle of the small twin bed, he dropped his hands away from her as if the contact burned him, because it did, and stepped away.
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she pushed her long brown hair out of her face.
“No problem,” he said gruffly, moving away from the bed, hoping to put more distance between them so that he didn’t do something that he’d truly regret later. He moved to the other side of the room and dropped his large frame onto the oversized chair that his father had stuffed in the room a few years ago to keep it from ending up in a yard sale, hoping that he wouldn’t regret doing this later.
*-*-*-*
Marty nervously tapped a pen on her notebook as she frantically searched for something to say to the man that used to be her entire world. “I got locked out,” she blurted, most likely sounding like an idiot.
He gave her a barely there smile. “I heard.”
Not knowing what else to do and in no mood to make an ass out of herself, she began collecting her books. “I must be in your way. I’ll go downstairs and sit at the table.”
She had absolutely no idea how to talk or act around him anymore. It had been years since they’d spent any real time together. Once he’d started college, leaving her behind in high school, they’d quickly become strangers.
Now the only time she saw him was when she stopped by the police station, he came home to visit his parents, or she drove past his house and he was outside. Even then it was only polite nods and greetings. Well, except for that one time when he’d pulled her over for speeding. She was positive that he’d been amused when he gave her that speeding ticket, but she couldn’t tell with him anymore. He’d always acted like ice. Nothing could penetrate his cool exterior. Earning a true smile or laugh from him was like winning the lottery.
She inwardly sighed.
She really missed his laugh.
She really missed him.
“No, please stay. You’re not in my way,” he said softly. “Mom wanted me to tell you that dinner will be done in two hours.”
When she hesitated, he continued. “I also wanted to say hello. It’s been a while since we’ve talked,” he explained as he ran a hand absently over his shoulder. Her eyes followed the movement.
“I heard about what happened. I’m sorry. That must have been awful,” she said, relieved that she managed to talk about one of the worst nights of her life without crying.
She knew that he wouldn’t appreciate it, especially since he had no idea that she’d spent the entire night after he’d had emergency surgery holding his hand in ICU, crying and praying that he got another chance. She’d been too afraid to ask for more than Tristan pulling through the night, terrified that it would be asking too much and that she’d lose him, but now…..
Now she wished that she’d asked for more.
From the moment that she saw him sitting in Tom and Beth’s living room the day they’d picked him up from foster care, she’d felt connected to him. It wasn’t something she’d ever admitted to anyone, not even to Tristan when they were kids and he was her world. It was so strange, still was, but from that moment when she saw him, she’d felt a deep connection with him. Still did even if they hadn’t really spoken in years. It was strange and horrible at the same time.
She wished that she didn’t feel this way about him. She hated this draw to him, couldn’t explain it, and most days she fought against the heartache that being separated from him caused. She’d never hated this strange connection to him more than the day that she got the call from her father and was told that Tristan had been shot and might not make it through the night. Hated it because the impending loss felt powerful, too powerful and so damn familiar. It felt like she’d gone through it a hundred times before and one more time would have been one too many.
He merely shrugged off her comments. “It’s over.” Most men that she knew, including her father, would have taken that as a cue to tell her all about it with the typical embellishments added. Not Tristan. Even as a child he’d hated talking about himself or bringing any attention his way no matter the reason.
“Tell me about school,” he demanded softly. It seemed things really hadn’t changed. He’d always been interested in what she had to say even if the topic was crayons, dresses, or boys picking on her. He’d always been so sweet and patient with her. She didn’t entirely believe his reputation of being a cold bastard. He’d always been kind to her even when she’d acted like a brat.
“It’s going well,” she said quickly. She was really in no mood to talk about school since she was up to her eyeballs in reading just to finish her thesis. Her personal life was out as well since she didn’t really have one. The guy she'd kind of been seeing whenever she wasn’t too busy dumped her today via a text.
Could you dump someone that you hadn’t seen in over a month? She didn’t think so. After not seeing or hearing from someone in over, let’s say a week and a half, a break up should be a mutual understanding. But if Jonathan needed closure he had it now.
Then there was her professional life. The bar she’d worked at for the past year and a half fired her earlier today. The new manager was unhappy that she wouldn’t embrace his new managerial style like the rest of his “good” employees.
In other words, she’d refused to wear the skimpy halter top with “Joe’s Bar” written across her chest and “Come get some” stamped across the back of the skimpy shorts that went along with the shirt. After a five-minute standoff, she was given her last paycheck and a dirty look.
Thankfully nepotism was still alive and thriving. Her father, the Chief of the State Police in their area, decided to give her part of the job that she was supposed to start when she graduated, early. Since she was a few months shy of having her master’s degree in forensic criminology, she couldn’t very well start that job yet. So, her father was creating a position for her even though he swore up and down that it was needed. She was going to act as a personal assistant to one of the detectives. That way she would get more hands on experience. Whatever, she just hoped whoever it was didn’t expect her to fetch coffee.