Page 61 of Manacled Hearts

“Alright, alright. Christ, you wouldn’t win any acting prizes,” I tease.

“Fuck you, Finnigan.”

“You wish.” I flash her another wicked smile.

“Do not let Vincent hear that. He’ll fucking scalp you,” she jokes, yet there’s truth in that. “What did you have against me?”

Here goes nothing. “Everything. I don’t think it was you, specifically. Although I was quite skeptical. I didn’t like what you represented… to Vincent.”

“I’m not taking him away from you, Finnigan.” She reaches over and rubs my arm.

My breath hitches at the unexpected, soothing gesture, but her words are heavy enough to make me think she knows exactly what, or better yet, who she is talking about.

“No. I think that’s when those feelings started going away. When I realized you weren’t going to change a thing. Well, obviously, some things have changed.”

“They will, of course. For all of you, eventually,” she says.

“Nah, not for me, darlin’. I’m happy as I am.”

“Fucking everything in sight and never getting attached to anyone?” she insists.

“I have standards, Morrigan. I don’t fuck everything.”

“You’re avoiding the attachment thing, though,” she cocks her head slightly, her green eyes fixed on me.

I swear she stole the look out of Vincent’s book, because I think she’s peering straight into my goddamn soul.

“Avoiding would entail a prospect. I simply make sure there is no prospect. Ever.”

“Whatever works for you, buddy.” She flashes a smirk, and I decide to shut her up, pulling her into a hug.

“Happy Birthday, Morrigan.”

She finally accepts my explanation and smiles warmly. It broadens into an excited one as her gaze flashes past me, and the next word that comes out of her mouth makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand still.

“Evie!” she exclaims before pulling out of my arms and waving.

“Who?” My god, could I have asked a more stupid question?

“Evelyn Shaw. You know her, the girl you rescued.”

Yeah, unfortunately I know exactly who she is. As I slowly turn around, trying to think through the booming pulse getting louder in my head, I vaguely hear Morrigan mumble something about me seeing Evie at her house a few months back. I don’t bother acknowledging the comment, my temples starting to throb as a scowl settles deep between my brows. It dawns on me that Evelyn hasn’t talked about me to Morrigan, since she thinks she has to explain to me who she is. Katya clearly hasn’t said what Evelyn asked of her, not to tell me where she lives now. How very interesting. And somehow fucking annoying too.

“What exactly is she doing here?” I didn’t even bother covering my disdain at her presence.

Though shock weaved through it too. Not the bad kind, unfortunately. Those icicles stabbing through my chest have turned into something else, hot and sharp, and yet so soothing, it feels dangerously close to excitement. I can’t help but look over my shoulder.

Christ, she’s stunning.

She’s walking over, looking like a different woman. Her features are somehow more settled, fuller, still skinny, yet no longer gaunt, and more mature than last time I saw her. Only weeks have passed, and though it’s still Evelyn, she somehow looks different. Comfortable. There’s a confidence in her step that was not there before, and in those ‘fuck me’ leather leggings, she could be walking all over me, and I’d fucking thank her.

I’m so screwed.

“She’s my friend. She also lives in the apartment underneath with her little sister, and works downstairs.”

“In Metamorphosis?!” I whip around so fast, I have to brush away the hair from my eyes.

“No. In the café. Finn, what—”

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