Black Heart
Page 37

"Francis McDonald, you listen to me right now!" the woman snapped, getting good and mad as she stepped in front of him and tried to stop him. "You haul your butt down to the police station and turn yourself in this instant! I swear to God that if you don't, I will haunt you for the rest of your life! If you so much as take one cent from these people, I will slap you silly the moment you die for all this nonsense!"
The man stepped through her as the family ahead of him finally got their order and headed for their table. Tristan watched as the man reached into his jacket as he approached the cashier. She opened her mouth to greet the next customer when her eyes widened in terror.
"Tristan?" Marty said behind him, sounding nervous and making him wish that he could pull her into his arms and protect her from this, but he was already moving.
He pushed the couple in front of him aside, pulled his weapon free and aimed it between the shoulders of the man standing in front of him. "Francis McDonald, put your weapon on the floor slowly and step away," he said in a hard tone of authority that usually worked for him.
Francis, noticeably startled, slowly looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened in shock when he spotted Tristan. For a moment, he stood there, frozen in fear.
"See? Didn't I tell you that you would get caught one day?" the woman demanded. "But would you listen to me? No, you just had to do things your own way."
"Put your weapon down, now!" Tristan shouted.
The man nodded once as he did just that, keeping his eyes locked on Tristan the entire time. As he slowly stood up, he glanced at the exit.
"Don't even think about it, ass**le. Turn around and place your hands on the counter," Tristan said, stepping forward as he kept his gun aimed on him.
"You better not resist arrest this time, mister," the elderly woman haunting his suspect said with a stern expression that she no doubt thought would be obeyed.
Tristan didn't even know the man and he knew what the bastard was going to do. Before Tristan could reach for his cuffs, Francis turned and bolted for the door. With a muttered curse, Tristan quickly holstered his weapon and went after him. Five feet from the door, Tristan managed to tackle him, sending them both sliding across the polished black and white tiled floor. Tristan's left shoulder slammed into the doorway of the double door entrance, sending sharp pain through his shoulder and down his arm. He was barely aware of Marty screaming his name as he wrestled with the bastard struggling to get away.
Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Tristan forced the suspect onto his stomach and yanked both of his arms behind his back and cuffed him. His shoulder was in agony and the bastard wouldn't stop trying to get away. What the hell was wrong with this douche bag? Tristan wondered as he stood up, stumbling slightly from the pain. Francis took that as the signal to get to his feet and try to make a run for it with both his arms handcuffed behind his back.
"Think again, ass**le," Tristan said as he reached out with his good hand and grabbed the short chain of the handcuffs and yanked Francis back.
"You have the right to remain silent," he said, shooting a pointed look at the elderly woman standing next to them when she opened her mouth to start in on the bastard again. The perp couldn't hear her, but Tristan sure as hell could and his patience had shot out the window three minutes ago when the prick had screwed his shoulder up.
She looked surprised, but smartly nodded and kept her mouth shut as Tristan finished reading the man his rights. Tristan picked up the gun on the floor before he hauled Francis out of the restaurant. Biting back a grimace of pain, Tristan placed the suspect in the back of his car. He slammed the car door shut and signaled to a black and white as it pulled into the parking lot with its lights flashing to take care of the perp for him before he returned to the restaurant.
As he walked into the restaurant he found Marty talking to a few children who looked upset. She'd turned into a very kind woman, he thought as he walked up to the counter, noting the three very nervous employees.
"C-c-c-can I h-help you, officer?" the teenager with pink striped hair asked.
"Ice," he said through clenched teeth.
"Ice?" she repeated, sounding confused as she shot her co-workers a questioning look.
"Yes, ice and lots of it," he said as the pain doubled, almost dropping him to his knees. What a f**ked up night. It really couldn't get any worse, he thought as he watched the three anxious employees stumble over each other as they tried to fill his order.
"See! I told you we'd find him!"
"No, I told you! Besides, I'm the one who found him."
"You're such a liar!"
"You're such a slut!"
"Takes one to know one!"
The bimbo twins had found him, he realized with a groan. This really was not his night.
Chapter 18
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Fine," Tristan said distractedly as he opened his car door and carefully climbed out.
With a sigh, she pulled the keys out of the ignition, grabbed her purse and did the same. She was more than ready to put this whole bizarre day behind her. Her day had started with harassing phone calls, Tristan stealing her much needed apple fritter and dealing with his ass**le ways. It hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience. If that wasn't bad enough he decided to end the day by confusing her and acting like he wanted her.
That is until all hell broke loose at her favorite barbeque restaurant. She still couldn't figure out how Tristan not only knew who the guy was from just a look at the man's back, but also knew what he was up to. The whole thing had been scary and admittedly impressive. Tristan had moved with the confidence of a man twice his age and even when it was more than obvious to everyone that he was injured, he still did his job and kept them all safe. It also didn't hurt that the whole thing made him look incredibly sexy and she hadn’t been the only one who’d thought so.
While he'd pointedly ignored the paramedics’ demands that he be seen at the hospital, every single woman there and a few she was pretty sure weren't so single, fussed over him and offered to make him a homemade meal as a thank you. A few of the more forward women had leaned in and whispered something in his ear that seemed to annoy him, which somewhat appeased her since she had a pretty good idea what they were offering him.
She hated not being able to fuss over him and comfort him. She really hated watching other women do it, but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He'd made it very clear that he didn't care about her. He wanted her that much was obvious, but he really didn't care for her. She knew that wouldn't bother some women enough to keep them from giving into years of fantasies, but she just couldn't make love to a man who didn't give a damn about anyone, including her.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning at seven-thirty," she said as she turned to make the short walk home. Since he couldn't make it to tonight’s group therapy session, her father had decided that he would attend the meeting in the morning or he shouldn't bother showing up to work until he was cleared to return to full duty.
"Why don't you come inside?" he suggested, surprising her.
"Why?" she asked, not bothering to hide the suspicion from her tone.
"Because I think we need to have a talk," he said, gesturing for her to come with him.