Page 45 of Vicious Hearts

My throat’s making a swallowing motion, but it’s doing nothing to remove the lump caught there. I’m desperately trying to breathe the heat away from my face, too. But that’s not working either.

I wasn’t ready for this.

I wasn’t ready forhim.

Cillian sighs, cracking his neck before those lethally venomous eyes stab into my soul again.

“I’m going to make this easy on you, Una.” I shiver as he leans close again. “Walk away,” he growls thickly into my ear. “Whatever you think I am, however angry you are for what happened to your lunatic of a father—”

I struggle to yank my arms from him, but it’s like fighting a brick wall. Or the force of gravity.

“I can assure you, he deservedeverythingthat came his way. So, for the very last time, little girl…” Cillian hisses, eyes narrowing to slits as they bore into mine. “Walk. Away. Or I promise you, this willnotend well for you. Walking away is the easy way, by a long shot.”

Finally, I manage to swallow the lump in my throat.

“And the hard way?”

His lips curl at the corners. “I’dverymuch suggest not finding out.”

Suddenly, he’s gone. His grip drops from my wrist and my hip, he turns, and he vanishes into the crowd of police officers, leaving me shaking and numb standing there on the dance floor.

Feeling like I just ran a marathon.

Swam an ocean.

Went toe-to-toe with the devil himself.

But I’m still here. I’m still standing. And that’ll be the last mistake he ever makes.

Everything in me laser focuses as I shake off the tremors he’s left coursing through me. I think of Finn. I think of everything he did for me for all those years.

I’ve got you, Lunatic…

Well, this time, I’ve gotyou, Finn.

I slip through the crowd, eyes darting about wildly until I spot him. Cillian is moving away from the main ballroom and stepping into a side hallway.

I follow.

The hum of the crowd and the music from the orchestra fade as I walk quickly down the hallway after him. He pauses at the corner at the end, and my heart jumps into my throat as I quickly slip into an alcove. I count to five, then peek my face around the corner.

He’s gone.

I slip off my heels, not wanting the click-clacking to give me away. I sprint down the hall, pause at the corner, and then cautiously peek around it…

…just in time to see Cillian glance left and right before slipping through a door at the end of the hallway and closing it behind him.

I smile to myself.

Should have stayed in your ballroom full of cops.

I unsling my bag and open it, peeling back the inner lining and pulling out the lightweight knife, still lethally sharp despite being made of plastic, with an edge and a point honed to surgical precision.

This is really happening this time. And after this, I’m just once step closer to saving my brother.

Barefoot, I pad down the hallway until I’m right in front of the door he went through. I have no idea what’s on the other side, but I can see it’s dark in there from the crack under the door. Taking a breath, I set my heels and bag down, curl my fingers tightly around the handle of the blade, and twist the doorknob.

The door opens silently. My eyes dart around, searching for him, or a trap, or an ambush. Then I freeze.

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