CHAPTER 18

I’m flabbergasted. Evelyn Shaw not only got angry, which is something she hasn’t done even when I was pissing the hell out of her, but she raised her voice. And she swore. She actually swore.

She’s the calmest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know if it’s because she’s been putting up a front for Maya, or she just got used to it for her benefit, but seeing her like this… close to disheveled, wakes up a primal urge within me.

“You and your goddamn line! I’m done with this.” She turns on her heels and storms out of the room, leaving me all alone with her words lingering in the air.

This is for the best. She has to be done with this. As I rake my fingers through my already messy hair, I can’t help but wonder if I’m done with this at all.

I’m not. Not even fucking close.

On the contrary. Knowing that Bartiste was responsible for her kidnapping as well, changed the game for me. I refuse to let that asshole take another person from me. Evelyn might not be mine the way Hanna was, but she is… something else.

Don’t make me say it, Finnigan… Her words echo through my thoughts. The bastard touched her. He raped her. He raped my Evelyn when he didn’t even have the right to fucking gaze upon her.

Did I just call her…?Yeah, I did—I called her my Evelyn. Christ, I’m so screwed. It’s not even the first time I thought of her as mine, yet I tell her she can’t cross the line. Hypocrisy looks like shit on me.

But she really is something else, something to cherish. To admire. I know she’s been going to therapy, Katya mentioned it, but living every day with all that sorrow and pain is unfathomable. Her life is a series of tragic events, and no sane person would have come out on the other side the way she did. She’s a force of nature.

Evelyn appears in my line of sight out in the garden, squatting to speak with Aaro. My nephew. I might just have to punch Carter in the face for doing this to me.

A knock startles me and I turn to the door.

“Can we talk?”

No.

I’m not prepared for this. I doubt I ever will be.

Ronan takes my silence as a yes and walks toward me, taking a seat where Evelyn sat before him.

“I didn’t want to blindside you. I told Carter and Katya, and they convinced me to keep quiet.”

“I’m sorry, Katya knows too?” My brows pull together, a tension drawing a headache through my temples.

“I brought her in the business. Her and I never stopped being friends.”

“But we did.” I end that sentence for him.

“That was not my choice, brother.”

I can’t help but scoff, keeping my gaze toward the garden, on her. “It was. You left.”

“But you banished me.”

“I was in pain, goddamn it! I was fucking broken, and you abandoned me!” I slam my hands on the bed, turning to him. “What did you expect me to do? I never loved before, Ronan. I didn’t know how it felt to have it be ripped away from you… in such a literal sense of the word. I needed you!”

“I know… I’m sorry. You know this. I just couldn’t keep Annika and Aaro in that situation. I couldn’t keep myself. I know I was selfish, believe me, it fucking hurt me too, but I couldn’t see any other choice.”

I say nothing because he’s not wrong, and goddamn it, I hate that.

“You had The Sanctum, Annika had no one who could understand. Her best friend was brutally murdered and died in her arms… I couldn’t just abandon her. Not when she was pregnant with my child—our blood. But don’t ever think my choice was easy. I missed you so goddamn much, Finn.”

Sighing, I clench my fists around the comforter. So many years have passed, and this explanation makes more sense now. It shouldn’t. It should sound the same, mean the same thing, and feel the same. Yet, it doesn’t. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t have left. But do I really not understand why he made that choice?

I think the reason I’ve been so angry and hurt over these years is exactly the opposite—I do understand. At least I’ve grown to understand. But I have no one else to blame, no one else to be angry at. I’m not admitting that to him, though. Turning, I look at my brother, really look at him. Lines have appeared across his features, smile lines under his cheekbones, crow’s feet around his eyes, faint creases on his forehead. But his eyes are the same. Calm, hopeful, caring.

I want to punch him harder.

Why couldn’t he just be an asshole?

“Come on,” I finally say. “Your wife and son are probably waiting for you.” I rise and walk away before he answers.

I can’t bear to be in this room with him anymore.

“He asks about you, you know,” Ronan says behind me.

I stop, but don’t turn.

“We show him photos.” he continues when I don’t answer, “We tell him about you, but he’s never satisfied.”

“He doesn’t even know me, why isn’t he satisfied?” I ask.

“Because for the first few years he couldn’t understand why he didn’t know you. Why you didn’t want to meet him. We told him your job keeps you away.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I walk away this time, and he follows, passing with me through the hall, then back in the living area.

“He loved the books.”

My steps falter.

“He’s read them all. Several times. They’re his favorites and he keeps them away from all the others.”

I never sent anything to Ronan or Annika. Never spoken with them since they left. Didn’t even text. But… I felt bad that I had a nephew out there who would never know me. I wanted a connection, even a faint one. Every once in a while, when Katya sent them a package or met with them, I gave her a book. I told her not to mention they were from me, and she promised she wouldn’t. It’s possible that she lied… or perhaps Ronan simply knew. Hearing that Aaro loves them makes me feel a certain way.

“There you are.” Annika walks in through the patio door, heading straight to her husband, and wrapping her arms around his middle. “The munchkin might need sleep soon. He’s wired and smitten, it seems.”

Both Ronan and I turn to the patio at the same time. Annika’s right. The way the kid looks at Maya is funny and endearing at the same time—he is indeed smitten. Though, he’s trying to play it cool. Stealing glances when she’s not looking.

“Evelyn said she’s leaving, though, so it would be a good idea for us to head out as well,” Annika continues.

“Actually, Vincent offered us to stay here. It’s safe, there’s security patrolling the woods, and it would be better for you and Aaro,” my brother answers her.

I could offer his old room in the penthouse, but it feels like a step too far. Too quick. I would rather get him in the ring and smash his face in first. It wouldn’t achieve much, but it would certainly make me feel better.

“That’s really nice of him. Okay, sounds good to me. I’ll ask Katya to bring our stuff from her place.”

Katya… I might have to have a word with the woman. I’m not enjoying this secrecy. The fact that she and Carter hid the arrival of my brother doesn’t sit right with me. Actually, thinking about it, both of them have been looking at me funny for a few days now. Particularly at Morrigan’s birthday party.

“When did you decide you were coming back to Queenscove?” I ask.

“A few weeks ago,” Ronan answers.

Huh, okay. “When did you tell Carter about it?”

My brother and his wife exchange brief glances before he answers. “Maybe four days ago.”

Oh yes, that timeline fits perfectly. Goddamn it. Though, I do feel better knowing that Carter and Katya haven’t been keeping this from me for too long.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you too. I didn’t want to risk it,” my brother says.

“Risk what?” I ask.

“Not seeing you, of course.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. Would I have gone away knowing that he was coming specifically to talk to the Sanctum? Maybe. The few times he visited in the past few years, he would go to our parents place and I would make myself busy on missions or going out of town. Any excuse not to be in the same postcode as him.

This was an ambush, and it was the only way for him to see me. I’m bothered that I’m weirdly becoming okay with it.

I nod to my brother. “I understand.”

He gives me a faint smile, like he’s handling a skittish animal, making sure I don’t run away. Christ, have I acted that childish in the last years?

“Excuse me. Nature calls.” I didn’t need to over-share, but I also didn’t want him to think that I’m leaving to end this conversation. Well, I do feel the need to take a break from it, but nature does call.

I walk past the stairs on the narrow corridor to the bathroom, and gentle voices filter through the high, open window—Morrigan and Evelyn.

“It feels… wrong. Dirty.”

Those words stop me dead in my tracks, because Evelyn speaks them and my curiosity doesn’t just peak. It soars. I’m not proud of it, but I stop walking, hoping there’s more to that sentence.

“Have you talked about this with your therapist?” Morrigan asks.

“Not really.”

“Why?”

There is a pause. A long one, before Evelyn answers.

“Because I think something’s wrong with me. How can someone who went through what I went through still have these thoughts? What if she judges me?”

“Do you think you would be more comfortable talking to me about it?” Morrigan gently speaks the question, making sure there is no demand or expectation.

What the hell are they talking about?

“Oh god. What if you think I’m… wrong?” Evelyn’s voice is filled with embarrassment and something that sounds a lot like unease.

“I own a fetish club, Evie. I can assure you, you can share anything.”

Wait a damn minute?! What exactly is this conversation about? Evelyn doesn’t want to go there. Does she? A burning sense of possessiveness singes through me, and it takes a minute for my brain to catch up. Of course not, the club hasn’t been reopened yet after the fire Morrigan’s ex started there.

“I guess you’re right,” Evelyn relents. “If I could talk to anyone about this, it’s you and Lulu.”

“Exactly! I would never judge, and no matter what it is, I hope I can make you feel more comfortable.” Morrigan attempts to soothe her.

There is a brief pause, and my breath is caught in my chest waiting for the intimate confession I should definitely not be listening in on. But I can’t help myself, so fuck it. I’m already an asshole.

“After what they did to me, what I feel seems wrong. Inappropriate. Sick. Have you ever felt like you want your partner to just… take? Be at their mercy, sort of? I don’t even know how to explain this. Almost like the only consent you give is how turned on you are, but he’s already there when he discovers this.”

“Yes, Evie, I have. There’s nothing wrong about that. About giving up control with a person you want, a person you’re attracted and connected to.”

“But I was raped, Morri. I was forced and they…” she trails off and a burning lump rises up of my throat. “Someone in my situation should not have these kinds of fantasies. It feels sick. What is wrong with me?”

Christ, I want to gather her up in my arms and hold her there. She’s not sick. She’s so far from that. But it drives me mad thinking that she might end up exploring that kink with someone else. Someone who could take advantage of her and not treat her right.

“Many of us who once had the choice stripped away, find solace in the loss of control with a person we trust. A person we want. It’s like a different type of therapy. I don’t know if it’s because the decision to lose control over our body is ours, or maybe it just feels fucking good. Because, let me tell you, it feels so damn good. Fortunately, as you said, your memories of your attack are sparse, and maybe your need for control over it all is even deeper. However, you shouldn’t let your fantasies revolve around what happened to you. Let them be. Sometimes a need is just that—a need.”

“I never thought of it in this way. Yes, I feel wrong for having these cravings, but they aren’t my only ones, nor are they new. I’m questioning them now, their morality, my… mental health, only because of what happened to me.”

I am stunned at this conversation. I couldn’t move even if someone caught me listening. This insight makes me feel all kinds of wrong. It’s utterly intimate and Evelyn would lose her shit knowing that I stole her secret. The worst part of this is that this fantasy of hers is being stored in my mind, like I’m building a list of what would make sweet Evelyn whimper. Should I also add this on the list of all that is wrong about me? Like craving a woman who’s barely eighteen?

Yes, I should add it.

“So, it’s something you wanted before all of this happened?” Morrigan asks.

There is no answer, but her next words make me think Evelyn probably agreed in a wordless way.

“Then you think it’s bad that it hasn’t gone away because of the attack.”

“It would be the normal expectation, right? And it’s not just that, but before it all happened, those types of cravings already felt disturbing. I never had sex before, but all my wet dreams were forceful, raw. I can’t believe I just said that.” Evelyn’s tone raises a few octaves.

I can’t either! Jesus, why did she have to say the words wet dream and raw in the same sentence? I know what I’m dreaming of tonight.

“It’s not necessarily the expectation, no. It goes back to the need for control. Fantasizing, living that fantasy in a safe environment gives you your control back. And trust me, Evie, never having sex has nothing to do with what you crave. There are plenty of forty-year-old virgins out there who fantasize about much kinkier things than some dubious consent.” Morrigan explains.

“I guess you’re right. Thanks Morri, this really helped.”

“Do you have someone in mind you would want these fantasies to come to life with?” Morrigan asks her, and I stiffen, eagerly waiting for Evelyn’s response.

“I thought I did, but I think I’m going to be seeking someone else.”

Oh, hell no! She wants to seek someone else?! Over my dead fucking body! And even then, I’ll take the motherfucker down with me.

“Maybe we should do something about it then.” Morrigan giggles and I’m ready to burst through that damn window and give her a piece of my mind.

“Shush, Maya’s coming,” Evelyn alerts her friend, and I take it as my cue to detach myself from this wall.

Through my veins my pulse is rushing so hard, I think my heart’s gonna burst out of my fucking chest. It takes more than a few minutes in the bathroom to compose myself finally before coming back into the living area. Ronan gives me a bit of a look when I return, probably wondering why it took me so long to go to the toilet, but I ignore it.

“Say goodbye, Maya.” Evelyn’s soft, melodic tone, mixed with that sweet brown sugar scent weaves around me just as Aaro darts past and sticks himself against his mom.

“Goodbye…” Maya’s little voice sounds shier than usual.

“It was very nice to meet you all. I hope we’ll see each other soon,” Evelyn says.

“We certainly will. Plus, it was such a nice surprise to have someone in his age range here, it couldn’t have worked any better if I planned it.”

“It was getting boring with all these adults around.” Maya gathers more courage and I stifle a laugh.

“Shush. You love us.” Evelyn pats her sister on the top of the head, shaking hers. “We’ll see you later then.” She moves, now only a few steps away from the front door.

“Wait, who’s taking you?” I ask hastily.

She stops but doesn’t turn. Not before she takes a few agonizingly slow, deep breaths. The silence is so awkward, Annika took a few quiet steps backwards to remove herself from this. Before I can say something, Evelyn’s eyes land on me over her shoulder, and I try to swallow through the sudden dryness in my throat, but it doesn’t work. A lump forms, and I swear I can hear her screaming in her mind at me, telling me to mind my own fucking business. Maybe I’m paranoid, maybe I’m just creating fake scenarios in my head, but the annoyance is painted in her furrowed eyebrows.

I deserve this, don’t I? I pushed her away yet again and threw the rejection in her face even though my actions don’t match my words. I craved opening up to her, craved to share, craved to know more of her, know everything, but I don’t deserve to know anything at all. I shouldn’t. Even if her confession to Morrigan weaves like tendrils of fire through my mind.

She opens her mouth to answer, but another voice pops into the room.

“Okay, I’m done. Let’s go.” Morrigan wheezes past me and heads straight for the door.

Evelyn says goodbye to everyone, but refuses to acknowledge me anymore. She leaves without a word.

I have a bad feeling about this.

The sparkle in her eyes looked a lot like revenge.

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