Page 73 of Filthy Savage

“Shut the fuck up,” another voice demands, and I swallow past the lump in my throat.

“I told you what would happen if you didn’t pay me what’s owed, right?” The sinister tone in the first man’s voice sends a cold shudder down my spine.

And the more that man speaks, the more it sounds like Fionn. Except he’s different. Cold. More sinister. Not like the man I remember.

It’s not him. It can’t be!

He was sweet and kind. He took care of me. Left me money. He’s not this evil guy who’s clearly hurting someone else.

I refuse to accept it. I refuse to accept that the possible father of my daughter is a monster.

But the more I listen, the more it sounds like him.

Could it really be him?

My legs refuse to move anymore. I don’t want to know. Because once I do, there’s no going back. Not ever.

But I have to look. I need to prove to myself that it isn’t him.

Sucking in a quiet breath, panic pummeling in my gut, I advance toward the bedroom door, only a crack opened just like I left it. My entire body’s riddled with mind-crushing panic, goose bumps spreading across my arms as I pray the floor doesn’t make a sound.

Taking slow, easy steps, I make it to the door, finding four men. Yet I only see the faces of three: two with white dress shirts, while another is on a chair, face bloody, eyes swollen.

The one who sounded like Fionn, whose face I can’t yet see, grabs the injured guy’s t-shirt.

“Where’s my money?” he snaps, like he’s ready to kill him.

Oh my God. I cup my mouth, afraid they’ll hear my exploding exhales.

“I—I don’t have it.” The man’s body shudders.

Please turn around. Let me see you. Prove to me that you’re not him. You’re not Fionn. You can’t be him.

“That’s a shame.” He straightens to full height, and even the way he walks is just like Fionn.

He turns slowly, almost facing my way.

“This is your final chance,” he says, and that’s when I see him.

Nonono!

My pulse bangs in my temples, faster now.

There’s no denying it.

“Fionn,” I whisper, steadying a hand over my erratic heartbeats.

There’s no way.

How can this be? How can he be this man? This awful man, hurting another over money.

Did I ever know him? Of course not!

Oh my God. I can’t let him or those other men see me. Sweat coats my brow the walls closing in on me until I find it hard to breathe.

He still looks the same. But instead of attraction, I’m catapulted into terror.

There’s blood on his knuckles, darkness slicing through his icy gaze. He’s ready to kill this man. But there’s no way he would. Not here.

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