Page 147 of Manacled Hearts

But I guess later means he still wants to have me in his line of sight.

A warm hand wraps around mine just as Madds releases me, and I’m pulled away.

“We’re going upstairs. Now.”

“But—”

“I swear to god, woman.” He growls deep in his throat as we hurry over to the elevator, where one of his men is currently waiting, holding it open.

“They’re gonna know… about us, now,” I whisper.

“That ship fucking sailed, Evelyn,” he spits back as the doors close, sealing us in.

I’m left with questions I have no right to demand answers to, and the rest of the ride up to the penthouse is quiet, sizzling with tension, all wrong and right, heavy and soothing. But the anticipation of what’s coming is killing me, because no matter what, it’s not going to be good.

The ding comes too soon, and when the doors open and he steps out, I almost hope he’ll leave me in here. But he plants a hand on the frame, and pierces me with his gaze. The order is silent, but I follow it anyway.

The penthouse is bathed in moonlight and the faint glow of two distant lamps, but they’re enough to see the tensed, slow rise and fall of Finnigan’s shoulder.

“Finnigan, I—”

“I don’t care?!” He whips around, rage rolling out of his mouth like a shattering storm as he pins me in place with nothing but his menacing eyes. “You think I don’t fucking care about you, Evelyn? Look at me, goddamn it!”

I don’t understand, I am looking right at him.

He steps closer, the glow showing him in such an eerie light, he’s godlike. Strong. Beautiful. Broken.

Broken.

His heaving breaths, tensed shoulders, fisted hands… oh god, the pain in his features, brimming his eyes, threatens to knock me on my knees.

“You think I’m not upset? Jesus Christ, Evelyn, how could you even say that I don’t care?” His steps echo through the vast space as he nears me, and I tense when he grabs the side of my throat, tipping my head back with his thumbs under my chin, forcing my gaze to him. “Is that all you learned in the last few weeks? Hell, in the last few months?! I care, Evelyn. More than I’ve ever cared for anyone. Ever. I can’t fucking breathe knowing I could have lost you before I realized… before I told you that I—I—”

With bruising pressure his lips crush my own, the kiss hungry, demanding, pained, forcing out of me solace and life-force to soothe his own.

I grip his waist, but the moment my fingers sink in, he pushes me away, holding me at arm’s length.

“I can’t believe you left me. Us. Your sister.”

Tears return to my eyes as I gaze back into that pain that I put in his.

“I thought it was the only way. He threatened her. He had her under surveillance.”

He shakes his head, releasing my neck, and grabs my hands, holding them between us. “You should have trusted me to help you. To make this right and kill that asshole. Now it’s you who carries his blood on your hands.”

Literally. As I glance down, my hands and arms are stained with blood, now dry and itchy.

“It will wash off.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s not what I mean. This kind of violence is something that stains your soul. You shouldn’t have been the one to carry something like this. This was intentional, willing, premeditated, not like when you protected Madds.”

I shake my head, tightening my grip on his fingers as I chew on my lip, the words too heavy to be spoken.

“Evie?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I take a deep breath and brace myself.

“My soul was stained long before I came to Queenscove.”

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