Page 27 of Manacled Hearts

Their whole dynamic is peculiar. I didn’t ask, but it looks like they’ve known each other for a long time. It sounds like Mamaw June helped raise at least one more of these guys besides her own son. And she’s so warm.

She’s the only thing that made me sad this evening. I saw it in Maya’s eyes too. Passing memories from our once happy life… the woman who gave us more love than we could ever ask for. Something about Vincent’s mother reminds us of ours.

Even that sadness brings a strange sense of comfort.

One thing has distracted me from it this evening—the icy stares of the blue-eyed man sitting across from me. Though, I think his stare only flickered into ice when mine landed on his.

I’m lounging in a comfy outdoor armchair, watching the sun bleed in dark shades of orange just above the tree line, and wonder if I’m getting too comfortable. Not in this chair, not with their support, but with them. With who they are. So far this evening I’ve heard things in passing—something about a fight, meeting a hotelier who has some interesting information for the guys, and there was something about money. But I must have heard that one wrong because the number mentioned didn’t sound real with all those zeros at the end.

“You need to put some meat on your bones, little lady. It will help with the chills.”

I shudder as Morrigan drops a soft throw on my lap. Some meat on my bones would be great indeed, but it hasn’t been in the cards for me. I did, however, notice a slight difference since staying at Katya’s. Folding my legs under me, I wrap the blanket around my shoulders. It smells divine, like pine needles and sugar.

“How are you doing?” she asks as she sits on her husband’s lap at the dining table to my left.

“We’re doing well, thanks to Katya. And all of you.” I haven’t been told who’s actually contributing to helping us, yet one can assume. “But my sister and I will have to move on soon; we can’t take advantage of your hospitality for so long.”

A brief, throaty sound pulls my attention to the armchair across from me. Finnigan has a bottle of Corona stuck to his lips, and his eyes fixed on me. Did he just mockingly clear his throat?

What is his problem?

I’ve been trying to ignore him all evening, but this time I hold his gaze, challenging him.

“Don’t worry,” I hear Maddox say, but don’t turn to him. “All in good time. There’s no reason to rush this. No one is kicking you out.”

Finnigan raises an eyebrow, and I narrow both of mine. I bet he wants to kick me out. I just can’t quite figure out why.

“You’re uncomfortable with us.”

I turn without sparing a breath, the gorgeous, blonde woman with mile-high legs pulling my attention to her. The others look like they want to argue with her for her daring, yet they bite their tongues. Finnigan rests the bottle on his knee and straightens.

What am I supposed to say? It wasn’t a question, and it’s not an untrue statement.

This evening has been peculiarly comfortable. The complete opposite from what I was expecting from, what I’m further inclined to believe is, a criminal organization. This is what I’m uncomfortable with. It took me by surprise.

“It’s okay,” Loreley says, continuing without my answer. “We’re a bit desensitized to it all. But I want you to understand that no one here is going to put a mask on for your sake.”

Excuse me, what? My eyebrows shoot up, but I refrain from saying anything.

“Lulu!” Morrigan says with slight shock in her tone.

“What I mean to say, Evelyn, is that what you’ve seen so far is exactly who we are. We’re not putting a pretty face on just for you, and we don’t have any pretenses for this evening. I understand how you came to be here with us, and I just want to make sure you know that you’re not being deceived into seeing something we want you to believe.”

“You’re telling me that you really are this… family.” The word tastes strange on my tongue.

“The guys are a family. I’m Morri’s friend, and my involvement in this little group of theirs has been reluctant at best.”

I don’t miss the scoff from Maddox. Loreley doesn’t either and shoots him a piercing gaze with eyes that almost match his in color.

“But I didn’t want you to think that anyone was putting on a show for you. Maybe you’ll find some comfort in that.”

Oddly, I do.

I nod, but my gaze drifts toward the inside of the house, to Mamaw June and Maya fiddling with something on the kitchen island. My sister has a great big smile on her face, and Vincent’s mom is beaming, fully focused on her, clearly enjoying the young company. Even if I know Maya has been happy and content all evening, what bothers me is the fact that I felt in my gut that we’ve been safe all this time. I wasn’t uneasy, I wasn’t on edge, and after an hour or so, I stopped looking over to her every minute to make sure she was okay.

I relaxed. And I’m terrified of this feeling. Truly and utterly terrified.

Back in Fleeton, when those scum tried to take her away from me, I was relaxed as well. I was comfortable in our situation, and it caused our downfall.

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