Page 81 of Manacled Hearts

God, I want to hug him. I may not have my parents anymore, or at least my mom, but the memories I have of them… of my mom teaching me to bake cookies, making pink meringues with my dad, our little adventures through the woods collecting pinecones, or at the beach gathering all the pretty pebbles, and so many more. I would be lost without those memories. Especially now that our photos no longer exist. Well, technically they do, in my old car that’s probably in a dump somewhere.

“Mamaw June truly is incredible.”

“She’s good with Maya,” he agrees.

“She’s good with me too,” I admit.

At my words he tightens his hold around my hands. This means something to both of us. A strange common ground born out of two different situations, different needs, different wants.

“With everything you went through, you fucking prevailed. Look at you now. You’re surrounded by people who care.”

“Do you?” I turn, my gaze pinned onto the azure of his. “Do you care about me, Finnigan?”

He flinches, his lips parting, but only unspoken words pass through that slight gap.

Damn it! We’ve opened up. I’ve opened up! I thought this was going somewhere, that he was finally going to acknowledge… this. Whatever this is. I’m such a fool.

“I’m not good for you, Evelyn. This”—he points between us, releasing my hands,—“can’t go anywhere. We can’t cross this line.”

“Jesus, Finnigan. You’re the one with the chalk in hand drawing lines only you care about.” I rise, clenching my fists, trying to rein in my anger, but for the first time in a long time, I fail. “Just… just fucking stop it!”

CHAPTER 18

FINNIGAN

I’m flabbergasted. Evelyn Shaw not only got angry, which is something she hasn’t done even when I was pissing the hell out of her, but she raised her voice. And she swore. She actually swore.

She’s the calmest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know if it’s because she’s been putting up a front for Maya, or she just got used to it for her benefit, but seeing her like this… close to disheveled, wakes up a primal urge within me.

“You and your goddamn line! I’m done with this.” She turns on her heels and storms out of the room, leaving me all alone with her words lingering in the air.

This is for the best. She has to be done with this. As I rake my fingers through my already messy hair, I can’t help but wonder if I’m done with this at all.

I’m not. Not even fucking close.

On the contrary. Knowing that Bartiste was responsible for her kidnapping as well, changed the game for me. I refuse to let that asshole take another person from me. Evelyn might not be mine the way Hanna was, but she is… something else.

Don’t make me say it, Finnigan… Her words echo through my thoughts. The bastard touched her. He raped her. He raped my Evelyn when he didn’t even have the right to fucking gaze upon her.

Did I just call her…? Yeah, I did—I called her my Evelyn. Christ, I’m so screwed. It’s not even the first time I thought of her as mine, yet I tell her she can’t cross the line. Hypocrisy looks like shit on me.

But she really is something else, something to cherish. To admire. I know she’s been going to therapy, Katya mentioned it, but living every day with all that sorrow and pain is unfathomable. Her life is a series of tragic events, and no sane person would have come out on the other side the way she did. She’s a force of nature.

Evelyn appears in my line of sight out in the garden, squatting to speak with Aaro. My nephew. I might just have to punch Carter in the face for doing this to me.

A knock startles me and I turn to the door.

“Can we talk?”

No.

I’m not prepared for this. I doubt I ever will be.

Ronan takes my silence as a yes and walks toward me, taking a seat where Evelyn sat before him.

“I didn’t want to blindside you. I told Carter and Katya, and they convinced me to keep quiet.”

“I’m sorry, Katya knows too?” My brows pull together, a tension drawing a headache through my temples.

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