Page 91 of Manacled Hearts

“Evelyn, they could take you again!” Morri holds me in place as we watch Madds grab Frankie and throw him ten feet away like he’s nothing but a sack of potatoes, taking two other guys down.

Maddox has blood coming from the back of his head, but ignores it, the look in his eyes feral. In the next moment one of the guys who jumps him is nothing but a crumpled mess on the ground, his head facing the wrong direction, his eyes empty of life.

He expertly beats the shit out of the rest of the men, moving swifter than a man his size should, and just when I think it’s all under control, one of the men who was unconscious gets his bearings and rises a few feet behind Madds. He doesn’t see him, though, too focused on fighting two of the, surprisingly well trained, men who still stand.

Lulu gasps at the same time I notice the man behind Madds pulling something from his hip as he staggers toward my friend. The scene runs in slow-motion and my stomach drops.

Oh, God, it’s a gun!

“Fuck this! Go, go, go!” Morri yells, and I rip open the car door, jumping out as the adrenaline surges through my nerves.

I run as fast as I can toward the man who’s about to shoot Madds, my throat aching from a scream I didn’t realize is ripping through my throat. He turns to me, an annoyed and confused look in his eyes, but before he can act, I tackle him to the ground.

One single gunshot is fired into the air as his back slams against the concrete on a pain-filled grunt. He grabs me to push me away, but I smash my fist into his face, and he falters.

Then I punch him again. Harder, faster, the crunch of bones cracking the armor I so carefully constructed around myself, holding at bay the person I pretend not to be.

Over and over, I slam my fists in his face.

There is no skill in my hits, only volatile frenzy. My knuckles ache, but adrenaline surges with each strike, urging me on.

Tires screech in the distance, someone curses, but I don’t turn. I certainly don’t stop. On the contrary, I try to hit harder, wrapping my fist in my palm and smashing the sides in his face until he goes limp beneath me.

Something grips my shoulders attempting to tug me away, but I resist. I don’t stop. I can’t. I won’t. The grip lowers, sliding under my armpits to lift me off the limp man, but I fight back.

“Evelyn!”

My fists pause midair when the warmth and urgency in that sweet, sweet voice penetrate the frenzy. It’s not his touch around my middle though, I would recognize it.

I turn just as Finnigan slams the car door behind him. Strong hands lift me and settle me back on my feet, but I don’t move as I watch his curly hair, as wild as the look in his eyes, bounce as he rushes to me.

“Evelyn.” He says my name again, but this time there is longing in his voice too, and I want to sink in the warmth of it.

He reaches me with panic in his wide eyes, breaking through my frenzied state completely, his breathing quick and shallow as he pats all over my body.

“Are you hurt?” he asks in a desperate tone as he continues the rapid inspection.

I shake my head, because I don’t think I can open my mouth without sobs breaking out.

“Evie, does anything hurt? There’s too much blood, I can’t tell.” The desperation grows in his tone, meeting my eyes, and I realize he didn’t see my previous, silent response.

There’s blood?

Of course… the man on the ground.

I shake my head again, but my lips quiver.

Something breaks in him then and there, clutching the sides of my head in his warm hands, as he steps even closer, his body lining up with mine. I seize his forearms, holding onto him, this intensity, his fierce gaze with its longing and pain, to his hidden need and demand, like he might run away from me once he realizes what he’s doing. What he’s revealing.

“Never again.” He growls.

I don’t know what he means by that, but I feed on each syllable like it gives me life.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, Evelyn. Ever.”

I don’t get a chance to agree or protest, because he crushes me against his warm, hard chest, his arms circling my body and wrapping himself around me. The weight I was holding onto, the panic and fear, leave my body in this tight, comforting hold.

“Madds, is Madds okay?”

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