Page 50 of Manacled Hearts

“It’s my own business,” I answer with a clear edge to my voice.

“To buy fucking heroin!” Finnigan raises his voice over me, and I shoot him a piercing look, seething. “What? Embarrassed?” he taunts.

“I did not just fucking hear that,” Maddox seethes.

“I’m done with this conversation. Thanks for the worry. Finnigan is taking me home.” I end the call before the man who’s making me feel two inches tall can show anymore disappointment in what I was about to do. I can’t stand it.

This car feels too small, even if it’s one of the biggest SUVs I’ve seen, I’m too close to him and the air is too heavy. I pull at the collar of my T-shirt, I fiddle with the sleeves, I do anything and everything to calm me down, but it doesn’t work.

I’m heaving. “Can we go already?”

“Once the crew arrives. A few more minutes.”

I run my fingers through the length of my hair, urging time to pass by faster.

“What the fuck is that?” Finnigan exclaims, and I quickly swipe my gaze out the windows, looking for whatever triggered him.

But tightness bounds my wrist, and he extends my arm toward him. My blood turns cold and before I turn to look, I know exactly where I’ll find his gaze. He lifts the sleeve of my cardigan, looking at the gauze wrapped around my forearm and no matter how hard I try to wrench it out of his grip, it’s futile.

“It’s just one more thing that’s none of your business,” I snap at him.

“Did someone hurt you, Evelyn?” His eyes shine and darken all at once, malice seeping through. He looks too affected by the thought that someone might have.

“No one hurt me.”

“Please tell me you’re not—”

“No.” I cut off his train of thought, knowing where it was going.

I managed to rip my wrist out of his grip, but in the process, he reached over and grabbed the other one, exposing yet another gauze. His gaze shoots to mine and pierces right through my very soul, demanding and ruthless.

“For fuck’s sake, Evelyn. Explain what’s happening.”

“Stop it. Let go of me. I told you it’s none of your business.” I pull the sleeves down, fisting them in my palm, and wrap my arms around my middle, turning to the side window.

I watch as a van drives down the street toward us, but stops in front of the alley, blocking the access and our view. Finnigan starts our car at the same moment, flashes his headlights twice and drives off.

Freaking finally!

“I need to know you’re okay. Safe… even from yourself.” He drops his tone, pulling a sense of calmness in it.

My chest rises with a deep, strained breath, and I drop my head against the headrest on a long exhale.

“Sometimes the nightmares seep into reality and it’s hard to tell the difference.” I let the answer flow out of me without turning, without offering further explanation.

He can do with this what he wishes, because I’m never going to say more of it. But Finnigan doesn’t ask anything else. Silence falls inside the car, and he takes me on one of the most uncomfortable rides of my entire life. Our tension is a palpable, living thing mixing together.

But underneath it all, not as deep as I would like it, there’s something else. A sizzling sensation made of heat and unquenchable thirst.

Even as the car slides to a stop in front of Katya’s building, my breaths aren’t lighter. The tension still there.

“Remember, Evelyn”—Finnigan says as I open the door, and step out—“find another and I’ll fucking kill them too.”

His words crash straight in my gut. He knows what he’s doing, that I’ll be reluctant to try again in case he speaks the truth, and I’ll end up with more blood on my hands. Even if I’m not the one pulling the trigger.

“I’ll kill them all before you ever get your chance to poison your soul,” he adds as I whip around, slamming the door behind me.

Jokes on him… the poison is already in. Though, I’m not sure why the state of my soul is on his mind.

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