Page 28 of The Irish Reaper

I jolt when Finn moves closer, and he doesn’t stop until the bottom of his knees are touching mine.

The hairs on my arms stand on ends as I wait for him to say something, anything, to give me some sort of reprieve.

“How will you leave?” It sounds as though now he’s taunting me and I wish to look away from those crystal blue eyes but I refuse to cower to this man anymore.

His family killed my father.

And I don’t know what that looks like in the grand scheme of things, but I don’t want to be here when I find out.

“I don’t know,” I mutter, my voice barely making it out of my throat now when, just seconds ago, they were doing just fine. “But there is always a way. And I’m going to find it.”

A ghost of a smirk plays off Finn’s perfect lips, but it’s gone before my next blink.

I’m sure it’s amusing to him, but I’m desperate at this moment. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

“I guess you’re right,” Finn utters, bending forward to align his gaze with mine.

My spine presses further into the wooden chair I’m in. My hands are bound together behind my back and around my torso and chest, but I’m not going anywhere. My skin is already beginning to feel raw with how I’ve been trying to pry my hands free, but I know it’s useless.

I’m a sitting duck for Finn’s whims, and I can’t do anything about it.

“I guess I should fix that.” A blinding pain penetrates through the side of my left thigh, and I cry out. Shards of purples and pinks edge my vision while my next inhale of air is a gasp, almost desolate, as the almost unbearable ache begins to take over my whole leg.

Glancing down, I’m absolutely horrified at what I find. How someone could think of an idea like this and act on it without remorse.

Aknifeis currently sticking out of my body.

My leg.

Bile rises into my throat as a broken sob escapes my lips. I want it out. Pure fear rampages through my body because I pushed too far, and he’s going to torture me like this until I escape him.

He doesn’t care for me. He won’t honor or protect me.

My father just signed my death sentence when he made this arrangement with the O’Clerys just to save himself, and now look at where we are.

He’s gone, and I’m still alive to suffer from his actions.

“Looks like you won’t be escaping now.”

Slowly, I raise my chin to look up at my new captor, finding nothing in those lucid blue eyes again before he rips the blade from my poor limb.

A strangled cry that sounds like that of a wounded animal leaves my lips as the first tear of mine hits my cheek.

Finn straightens his spine and then strides toward the door, inflicting what he believes he needs to in order to keep me in line.

I hate him.

If this is what I have to endure first, there’s only one outcome to this solution. It’s definitely not one I want to perform, but I’m left with no other choice.

I’m going to have to kill him.

10

FINN

“Da,if you don’t keep Mama out of my room, I swear to God…” Arlo is laid up in his bedroom, a sour expression plastered on his face because he doesn’t enjoy being coddled, and that’s all Mama has been doing since the doctor came and left.

There are so many white pillows on his bed that I didn’t even know the house held that many. He suffered a bullet that got lodged in his shoulder and one that went straight through his side. And the only reason why he’s sitting up in his bed right now is because Mama refuses to allow him out of it.

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