Page 106 of Manacled Hearts

EVELYN

I’m startled awake by another nightmare. The same memory, the same words spewed by Frankie and Vassallo, or Bartiste, the same slimy sensation lingering. I look around, but Maya is sleeping soundly next to me.

Annika and Aaro took the other bedroom as we waited for the guys to finish the raid. I waited for as long as I could, but in the end, sleep took me. I was hoping, but sleep hasn’t settled my anxiety. The guys said that it’s likely neither Frankie nor Bartiste will be at the three locations, but I still hope.

More so, I hope Finnigan’s okay.

A rumble sounds outside the bedroom, and I hold my breath, listening. It might have been the front door.

Is that him? Is he back?

I slide out of bed, rushing to the door and stepping out, closing it as soft as I can behind me, so as not to wake Maya. The anxiety rushes through my blood and I rush to the living area.

It is him!

“Oh my god, Finnigan!” I slap my hand over my mouth when he turns, and I get a full view of him.

For such a preppy type, the rich, surfer boy looks a lot like a ruthless warrior right now. Blood streaks his blonde curls, his T-shirt is splattered like a Pollock painting, and his knuckles are red, the skin broken on some of them. I might be sick, because this does something so wonderful and insane to me, warmth pooling between my thighs. He looks… vicious. Deliciously so as he beams at me, as happy to see me as I am to see him.

“Are you okay?” I finally reach him, ignoring both Ronan and Carter’s raised eyebrows and faint amusement.

“All good, sugar.”

“But…” I take his hands in mine, unable to stop myself. “You’re hurt.”

He removes one hand from mine and brings it up, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and lifting my gaze to his. “Nothing but scratches.”

I nod slowly but can’t breathe easier as I imagine how this must look to the others. Awkwardly, I clear my throat and drop his hand, taking a little step back. I’m rewarded with his cheekiest grin, because I know he sees the flush in my cheeks, no way he doesn’t when they feel like they’re burning.

God, this man’s going to ruin me.

“You didn’t find him, did you?” I ask, swiping my gaze over to the others.

“No.” Ronan’s the one who answers.

“It was still productive. We have leads now.” Carter shuts the lid to his laptop and tucks it in a bag along with a lot of other technical gear he brought with him.

“Not long. He’ll be ours soon enough,” Finn adds.

For some odd reason I feel a bit of jealousy. I want to be there when Frankie is caught. I want to be there when he dies. But most of all, I want to be the one who steals his last breath. The Sanctum might be brushing off on me because none of that sounds remotely wrong.

“I’m gonna go wash and crawl in bed with my family. Night!” Ronan says, a satisfied tone in his voice.

“Good night.” We all wish him, and my gaze is finally drawn to the window. It’s still night, and now I’m so wired up, not sure I can fall back asleep.

“I’m going to take Ronan’s old room. It’s too late to drive home and still rest.” Carter tucks away his gear, so it’s not in the way, and waves us good night.

Then there’s just me, and my bloodied warrior.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I ask again.

“Yes, but I’m tempted to get hurt just so I can have the privilege of being welcomed home like that all over again, with that worried and hungry look in your eyes.”

“Um… hungry?” Here’s that damn blush again.

“Oh yes. You’re looking at me like you want to rip my clothes off and touch every inch of my body to make sure I’m whole. Every. Single. Hard. Inch.”

Sweet Mary Mother of Jesus. He did not just say that. And I should definitely not like the sound of it as much as I do.

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