Page 139 of Manacled Hearts

“The old Dalton Pier isn’t exactly populated, as you know. The beach is too close to the industrial area, so he probably thinks he has plenty of privacy there, and it’s easy to see someone coming,” Carter answers.

Dalton Pier, where he told me to meet him.

Confidence blooms in my veins at the image of the bastard walking calmly on the dark beach, hand in hand with his date. Though, I believe in the victim theory much more. This is a curveball. But I can catch it. I have to catch it, because this is so much better than the alternative. The result might be the same, and I will probably still end up in his clutches, but… what if I don’t? I’ll have the element of surprise on my side.

A door closes and snaps me back into the present. Slowly, I open this one to find the corridor empty, and muffled voices coming from Vincent’s office. I sneak to the door and listen.

“For what he did to Evelyn he will pay tonight.”

“What if it’s a trap?” someone asks.

It must be!

It would be perfect timing, taking The Sanctum out before my meeting with him. That way, no one would come to my rescue. And if it isn’t a trap, I’m still not willing to take the risk.

I’m rushing in the opposite direction before the decision made it into my consciousness. There will be no trap. I refuse to allow these men to fall into one because of me. Even if I have doubts. it is because Frankie just seems like the type of man to have far too much confidence for his own good, I will not risk Finnigan and his Sanctum. I won’t risk anyone.

The house is still quiet, voices and laughter only filtering from outside, everyone huddled around the fire pit. My sister too. She’s cuddled up on a chair, laughter all gone as she lays there half asleep watching the flame with Aaro. It almost hurts that she looks so at home. So settled.

I want to scream for her, yell my love, but they can’t know what I’m about to do. Passing through all of Vincent’s security will be hard enough. But they’re all distracted now, maybe they won’t notice. Or at least not yet, and I’ll have a head start.

My bag is still by the front door, and I open it to double check all is still there. Between my wallet, tissue pack, snacks, and random crap, there are two weapons I received as a gift for my protection. Hopefully all this training will mean something and I won’t be as vulnerable as last time. I grab the bag and head to the closest room that has windows toward the front, because I know the front door triggers the security system and alerts them. The windows won’t. Maybe it’s because there is physically no way to open them from the outside, I don’t know anything beyond the fact that whenever I’ve seen someone open a window, nothing has been triggered.

Slowly, I close the door behind me, and head straight to the window, unlatching it. My heart is in my throat as I slowly turn the handle and push it open, listening for the repercussions. None come. So I open it wider, and climb over, dropping outside the house.

I don’t waste any time, swing my bag over my shoulder, and bolt through the trees, right at the edge of the road that leads back to the main street. I know there’s security patrolling around here, so I stay in the shadows of the trees and run. There is no burn in my lungs, no strain in my muscles, only tension inside of me, questioning my actions tonight. But all I can think about is Maya. My sweet Maya threatened by this revolting asshole. The reservations, insecurities, the fear I had is slowly being replaced by rage. Pure, untapped rage for the man who took so much from me.

I refuse to let him take more.

I have been living in fear that he could be anywhere, lurking, watching, ready to ruin everything for me all over again. So I didn’t quite live. His photos are confirmation that he was indeed out there, watching us.

Stopping for a moment, I pull my phone out and book a ride to meet me at the end of this road, beyond the last security camera Vincent has installed here, then I run again. I don’t have long before the guys will set off too.

If not for the risk they would fall in a trap, I would let them deal with it. But I refuse to allow anyone to get hurt because of me. And Frankie isn’t expecting me so early.

By the time I reach the main road and see the ride waiting for me, the soles of my feet burn from the uneven forest floor, but the adrenaline is keeping me from caring. The older driver gives me a reluctant look when he double checks the destination, but I don’t dwell on whatever train of thought he’s going through. I have my own to deal with. And currently, my brain is working on a plan for how to go through three men and reach Frankie B.

Fire rushes through my veins, fueling the anger and fear that mixed in a dangerous concoction and are breathing new life into me. My past is about to meet my present, and I pray that the anger will dominate the fear in the end.

I wonder if these men were one of the ones who were with him that night… if they were the ones holding me down when Frankie was sticking the needle in my arm? When he pulled my jeans down. Were they the ones who watched? Who laughed? Who cheered him on?

My skin prickles with nerves as the car approaches the destination. There is no going back.

Tonight will end in destruction… and it’s likely to be mine.

CHAPTER 34

EVELYN

I’m hiding behind some crumbling parapet of an old industrial yard, peering over the ledge down to the beach. I agree with Finnigan—what a ridiculous amount of confidence Frankie B must have to think he is safe here. It’s quiet, deserted, no soul in sight on the moonlit sand, or beyond. It didn’t take long to spot him, even as he is further down the beach now, closer to the pier. From Carter’s words I thought he was already at Dalton Pier, but he is actually walking toward it.

Toward our meeting spot, though it’s technically supposed to happen in just over an hour.

My fists clench, teeth grinding as I watch him walk with a ridiculous swagger like he owns this beach. This is the man who broke me… how unbearably pathetic. More anger filters through my mind, my body too, fueling my muscles like it’s priming them.

He took my sister! He took me! Used me… then passed me right over to his boss.

That anger hits the soles of my feet, my hands clenching around the strap of my small bag I crossed over my body to keep close. Red hot rage fills my vision, my steps quickening with the adrenaline it brings, and not even the constant rumble of the surf soothes me. Before I round the corner I grab my phone and open the text I already wrote on the car ride here—it’s short, maybe heartbreaking—but it must be done. I’m ducking behind the parapet, right where it ends and beach sand begins to soften my steps, and I have a clear view of the man who will dictate my fate.

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