Page 163 of Manacled Hearts

Vin is reloading god knows which number magazine into his gun, a devious tug at the corner of his lips. His thing is making people talk with his intimidating demeanor, with secrets and well-chosen words. But as it is with all of us… violence puts such a big fucking smile on his face.

Then there’s Carter. His two guns are still fixed in his leather holster, but he’s been doing a heck of a lot of damage with his knives. Blood is splattered all over him, and though I can clearly see the disgust contorting his features at the mess, he’s fucking relishing in the violence.

But there’s still no sign of Bartiste.

“Are you scared, Bartiste? Scared that you’re finally going to pay for your sins?” I taunt, my laugh echoing through the vast space.

Goddamn it! Two more men are once again going up the fucking stairs. I aim my weapon but before I can pull the trigger, they’re down.

“Take out the ones at the top!” someone shouts the order, and my blood runs cold.

“Where are you, you bastard?”

“Is she up there, boy? Is that why you keep taking out everyone who steps up those stairs?”

Oh, that’s Bartiste alright. The way he says boy brings me back to all those years before, when he kidnapped Annika and Hanna and fucking taunted us. Now he wants Evelyn too? Over my dead-fucking-body and not even then. I’ll come out of the goddamn grave and pull him down with me.

“It’s me.” Ronan alerts me as he slides next to me behind the pillar, taking down two more men. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“I’m not!” but my tone is snappier than it should be. “Watch out!” I whip my gun over his shoulder and shoot the man who was raising his weapon at him.

“Thanks.”

“You need to go, Ronan. Take cover away from this. You have a wife and son at home.”

“Now you’re getting all protective? I’m not dying today.” He grabs the back of my head and brings me down, kissing the top of it. “Besides, you have plenty to lose, too.”

I shake my head and turn around.

“Oh fuck no!” I lift the gun, but it’s too late. Two of our men stationed at the top fall, the other two take cover as more shots are fired.

Then I catch one more glimpse of Bartiste as he runs from behind one piece of equipment to another, ducking as I let two bullets fly in his direction. The bastard is all the way on the other side of the space, too far for great accuracy, especially since there are no lights there. And I do want to be accurate, since I only want to maim, not kill, just yet.

I go to run, but bullets hit the concrete at my feet and I whip back, crashing against Ronan.

“Goddamn it!” I curse.

But I push away again anyway. And the same thing happens. When my brother tries to move out, bullets fly on his side too.

“They’re trying to keep us here.”

“Yeah, no shit.” I huff out a breath. “Can someone fucking shoot the asshole?” I rage loud enough for the sound to vibrate over the flying bullets.

I can’t shoot blindly, as much as it sounds like a pretty damn good idea right now, but I’m not gonna risk accidentally hitting one of our own. I sneak a look, and just as a bullet hits the concrete next to my shoulder, I see a group of Bartiste’s men climb up those stairs again. Ice fills my veins as their steps get too close to the top and no one is stopping them. Two finally go down, but the rest turn out of my line of sight and shoot.

My ears ring, and a lump in my throat chokes me. I lunge, but arms catch me in a vice around my middle, pulling me back just as a sharp burn hisses against my forearm.

“They’re gonna get to her!” I rage at Ronan’s grip.

“You almost got shot, brother! You’re no good to her dead.”

“Someone go after her!” I shout and hope someone hears me.

I look down at the blood trickling off my forearm—it’s just a graze.

A maniacal laugh bounces off the metal walls and I grit my teeth at the sound.

“I’m gonna have her soon!” Bartiste shouts, “Again!” Then the bastard laughs once more.

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