Page 22 of Vengeful Union

His lips twitch. “Come on, we’re going outside.”

Just the mere mention of being out of these four walls has my anger diminishing. I can refuel the anger later. Right now, I want fresh air and sunlight. I gesture for him to go ahead of me, and he smiles. God, I hate that my heart skips a beat at the sight of it. I need to figure out a way to stop this madness. Finn Gallagher is a monster. He has no qualms about killing anyone, let alone me. He owns me—at least, he thinks he does. But I’ll make sure he never owns my heart.

Stepping outside, I inhale sharply. The scent of freshly cut grass, along with the warmth of the sun, makes me feel alive. It’s been too long since I’ve experienced this. Far too long. Something that is taken for granted by so many makes me feel as though I want to sink to my knees and cry; savor it; cherish it; take it all in and lock it inside a vault in my mind.

I follow Finn’s lead as he walks around the back of the house, his footsteps slow and steady, and I know he’s going at this pace for me. I’m still not completely back to full health.

“Where are we?”

I’m surprised when he answers me. “I needed to be as close to my men as I could be, while also keeping you hidden. We’re in the suburbs of Philadelphia. We’re surrounded by trees and fields. The nearest neighbors are just across that field and the home belongs to Jacob. The other side is Alex’s property.”

I nod, pleased he’s told me. While I hate that he’s kidnapped me and plans to do only God knows what, I’m relieved he’s taken me away from my father. I’m not sure how I would have reacted if my father had hurt me any more than he already had.

“It’s a beautiful place,” I tell him. It’s quiet and peaceful. Somewhere that would be nice to get away from everything and everyone, to take some time to gather your thoughts and find yourself again. “Have you owned it long?”

“When I was shot, I needed somewhere to recover without my men hovering, or my sister, for that matter. I found this property and wanted it. Having the other two properties on either side is a huge bonus.”

“You mean, after you made the neighbors aware of just who was living beside them.”

He glances back at me, his lips twitching in amusement. “I made it worth their while to move on. They were compensated nicely.”

“I bet they were,” I retort.

His house is enormous, almost as big as my mom’s childhood home. The house that now belongs to me. I had plans on moving into it before Dad captured me and kept me locked up in my room.

Finn leads us toward an outhouse that has been converted into a smaller house. One that would be perfect for a couple or small family.

“We’re going to spend the next few hours out here. You may as well get comfortable,” he says, and I look at him in confusion. Comfortable? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I follow him inside the house and see it’s fully furnished. An open plan layout. He takes my hand and leads me toward the back of the house. Opening a door, he gestures for me to go in. “Get changed. The clothes on the bed should fit.” He turns and leaves as soon as I walk in, closing the door behind him.

I stare at the ‘clothes’ he has left on the bed for me and realize he really needs to get a dictionary. Bikini doesn’t equate to clothes. It’s swimwear. Rather than argue with the bastard, I dress in the skimpy bikini. When I turn to the door, I gasp as my gaze collides with the reflection of myself. God, I didn’t realize just how bad I had gotten. I knew I was weak and frail but seeing my collarbones protruding from my skin makes my stomach churn. My wrists are still red and puffy but nowhere near as bad as they were. They’re getting better, and I have Finn to thank for that. Even though I’d never admit to it out loud.

The door opens and I glare at him. “Knock much?” I ask tartly.

He just smiles. “Why would I knock? I had hoped you were naked. Oh well, there’s always later.”

“Nice,” I hiss at him. Damn, he’s such a pig.

He holds out his hand for me to take and my stupid heart races. I glare at it as though it’s offending me. “I’m dressed—or rather, undressed. What’s next?”

He gives me a panty-dropping smile, his eyes going half-mast. I know he uses that smile a lot. No doubt it’s a hit with the ladies—if the way my stomach clenches at the sight is anything to go by.

“Follow me,” he says, and once again holds his hand out for me to take.

He leads me out the back, and it feels as though my heart stops when I see what he's bringing me to. The pool. God, why didn’t I think that we’d be going to the pool? I should have realized. The swimsuit was a huge clue. My mind was on other things.

He turns back and looks at me. “What’s wrong?” he questions, but I can’t answer. I’m struggling to breathe, to think, to even see anything beyond the pool. “Destiny?” His voice is cold and hard.

My breathing becomes shallow. The blue water is just there, taunting me. Memories flood through me as the water laps against the side of the pool. The burning sensation returns to my lungs. The pain of the water entering my swelling throat is back. Dread fills me and I close my eyes, praying I can stop these phantom pains from returning. That the memories will fade, and I can breathe easy once again.

A hand snaps around my neck, tightening as the view of the pool disappears behind a wall of muscle. The towering man stands before me, pulling my head so that I’m looking up at him. “Look at me,” he rumbles, and that command from his throat is one I cannot deny.

Looking at him, I see the tightness in his jaw. His hand flexes around my throat. “What the fuck was that?” he questions with a snarl.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” I tell him, my heartrate finally returning to normal. As I focus on him, the buzzing in my ears fades, and my body stops trembling. I haven’t allowed myself to be around water in a long time. I thought I could one day confront my fear, but that day is yet to arrive. I’ll never willingly get into a body of water. Never again.

Few people know about my fear. I hate that I have a weakness, something that has me rooted to the spot at the mere sight of it. My father knows, my uncle knows, and my cousin knows. That’s three people too many. Everyone else who knows is dead. If it ever got out that I’m deathly afraid of water, it would be an easy way to get me to comply with someone’s wishes.

“You’re afraid of the pool.” It’s a statement rather than a question.

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