Manacled Hearts: an Age Gap Mafia Romance (The Sanctum Syndicate Book 3)

CHAPTER 24

I’m startled awake by another nightmare. The same memory, the same words spewed by Frankie and Vassallo, or Bartiste, the same slimy sensation lingering. I look around, but Maya is sleeping soundly next to me.

Annika and Aaro took the other bedroom as we waited for the guys to finish the raid. I waited for as long as I could, but in the end, sleep took me. I was hoping, but sleep hasn’t settled my anxiety. The guys said that it’s likely neither Frankie nor Bartiste will be at the three locations, but I still hope.

More so, I hope Finnigan’s okay.

A rumble sounds outside the bedroom, and I hold my breath, listening. It might have been the front door.

Is that him? Is he back?

I slide out of bed, rushing to the door and stepping out, closing it as soft as I can behind me, so as not to wake Maya. The anxiety rushes through my blood and I rush to the living area.

It is him!

“Oh my god, Finnigan!” I slap my hand over my mouth when he turns, and I get a full view of him.

For such a preppy type, the rich, surfer boy looks a lot like a ruthless warrior right now. Blood streaks his blonde curls, his T-shirt is splattered like a Pollock painting, and his knuckles are red, the skin broken on some of them. I might be sick, because this does something so wonderful and insane to me, warmth pooling between my thighs. He looks… vicious. Deliciously so as he beams at me, as happy to see me as I am to see him.

“Are you okay?” I finally reach him, ignoring both Ronan and Carter’s raised eyebrows and faint amusement.

“All good, sugar.”

“But…” I take his hands in mine, unable to stop myself. “You’re hurt.”

He removes one hand from mine and brings it up, pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and lifting my gaze to his. “Nothing but scratches.”

I nod slowly but can’t breathe easier as I imagine how this must look to the others. Awkwardly, I clear my throat and drop his hand, taking a little step back. I’m rewarded with his cheekiest grin, because I know he sees the flush in my cheeks, no way he doesn’t when they feel like they’re burning.

God, this man’s going to ruin me.

“You didn’t find him, did you?” I ask, swiping my gaze over to the others.

“No.” Ronan’s the one who answers.

“It was still productive. We have leads now.” Carter shuts the lid to his laptop and tucks it in a bag along with a lot of other technical gear he brought with him.

“Not long. He’ll be ours soon enough,” Finn adds.

For some odd reason I feel a bit of jealousy. I want to be there when Frankie is caught. I want to be there when he dies. But most of all, I want to be the one who steals his last breath. The Sanctum might be brushing off on me because none of that sounds remotely wrong.

“I’m gonna go wash and crawl in bed with my family. Night!” Ronan says, a satisfied tone in his voice.

“Good night.” We all wish him, and my gaze is finally drawn to the window. It’s still night, and now I’m so wired up, not sure I can fall back asleep.

“I’m going to take Ronan’s old room. It’s too late to drive home and still rest.” Carter tucks away his gear, so it’s not in the way, and waves us good night.

Then there’s just me, and my bloodied warrior.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I ask again.

“Yes, but I’m tempted to get hurt just so I can have the privilege of being welcomed home like that all over again, with that worried and hungry look in your eyes.”

“Um… hungry?” Here’s that damn blush again.

“Oh yes. You’re looking at me like you want to rip my clothes off and touch every inch of my body to make sure I’m whole. Every. Single. Hard. Inch.”

Sweet Mary Mother of Jesus. He did not just say that. And I should definitely not like the sound of it as much as I do.

“Finnigan, I—”

“You should go to bed, Evie darling.” His fingers are on my chin again, but only for a brief second, because in the next one, his hand is on the back of my neck, and I’m pulled into the most brutal, demanding, and hungry kiss.

I fist his bloody T-shirt, holding him to me like I’m scared he’ll dare break this kiss, but Finnigan has other ideas. His other hand goes to the small of my back, pulling me flush to his body, before his fingers snake further down, pressing into my ass. I moan into his mouth, following the vibrations with the frantic swipes of my tongue against his, and when his clear hard on presses into my lower belly, the urge to climb him like a tree threatens to make a fool out of me.

His previous rejections still stain my memory, but Christ… this starving kiss might just wipe it clean.

With one last bruising press of his lips against mine, he pulls away, that sly grin once again tugging at his lips.

“I wish this wouldn’t feel so right.”

I frown and open my mouth to spit back at him, but what would I say? Because I wish for the same thing.

“We can allow ourselves to feel right. We deserve as much. Even if there’s a time limit on it.”

“Time limit?” he asks.

I nod. “You know of my father. I like it here, but this is not about me.”

He doesn’t look too pleased with my answer, but doesn’t argue. “You may be right, we deserve at least a bit of rightness.”

He pulls me back to him, kissing me again, only this time the hunger is different. It begs and demands at the same time, it’s soft, warm, and intimate, and I find that I like this kiss even more than the one before.

* * *

Three hours I spent in the gym and training ring today. Madds pushed me so much harder, at my request, and taught me some more moves and techniques. Every muscle in my body aches, but it feels so good. I may not be ready to take on Frankie again, but boy do I feel like I could stand against the asshole.

Madds is still upset I jumped out of the car to get the guy who almost shot him, but he hugged me so hard the other day at dinner, I know he’s thankful. He’s just not the type to spell it out. And the fact that he’s eager to train me harder and show me more fighting moves and techniques says a lot. Moreover, I finally regained control of myself. Of my fate. I no longer feel so useless. Madds, The Sanctum, gave me something I never had before—strength. Not just physical, but mental and emotional. I’m more myself than I ever have been before.

“Is it my turn now?” Maya squeals from her seat on the wooden bench far against the back wall.

“You wanna train too?” Maddox asks, amused.

“Yup!” She drops her book and sprints to us. She tries to climb in the ring, but keeps falling on her ass, much to our amusement. She’s determined though, and Maddox chuckles as he goes and pulls her up.

“Alright then. While your sister goes and rests, I’ll train you.”

This man takes his role so serious, and sometimes I just want to cry at how amazing he is with her, with us. I never wished for another sibling, and even if I did, they would have paled in comparison to Madds.

He drops to his knees at her level since he’s so damn tall. “Show me how you make a fist.”

I chuckle and climb out of the ring, starting to unwrap my hands as I head to my gym bag. I don’t bother changing, I just pull a pair of joggers over my shorts and stay in my sports bra since I’m too hot. I’ll pull a sweatshirt over when we’re on our way to Vincent’s house. The guys are so worried about me, they keep an eye on me at all times and avoid keeping me in public places for longer than necessary. It’s a bit annoying, but then again, I’ve never felt so protected in my life. I can’t complain, not when all that matters is the fact that Maya is safe. Granted, The Fightclub is not a public place, but even the drive from here to the penthouse or Vincent’s forest house could be dangerous.

It’s been five days since the three raids, and they’ve all been the same—Finnigan’s, baking, gym, worry, sleep.

I could use a drink.

From what I understand, Carter’s been baiting the hell out of Frankie and Bartiste. Screwing up their operations, destroying leads and connections, and making sure those assholes aren’t welcomed in the underground of Queenscove. This is Sanctum territory, yet those assholes think they can just swoop in and do business here. They’ll soon get angry enough that they’ll come out and make a mistake. Bloody cowards.

“Hey, Madds? Is Midnight open now?” I raise my voice over Maya’s funny grunts as she hits his open palms.

“No. But Carter and Jian or Tina might be there. A bartender, too.”

Jian and Tina are two of the hackers from Carter’s team. They’ve been part of it and The Sanctum for years. Brendan is the other, but I rarely see him. He’s a proper recluse.

“I’m going to head up there. I need a drink,” I let him know as I head toward the stairs that lead up in the secure corridor.

A few weeks ago, Carter set my fingerprint on the access pads and gave me a code so I can go up whenever I felt like having a drink after workouts. He did make sure to tell me to only go if it’s not open, though. I didn’t ask why, but one can guess.

I swing my bag over my shoulder, and run my fingers through my sweaty, messy bob to make it look a little more decent as I climb the stairs and pass through all the secure doors.

“Hey Carter, is it okay if I come in?” I ask as I peak through the back door and notice him standing at the bar, a laptop in front of him. As always.

“Hi Evelyn. Yes, of course. Actually, can you tell me if you’ve seen this guy before?” he gestures toward his laptop and waits.

“Oh!” I don’t bother hiding the grimace when I see the picture on the screen—a man slumped on the ground in what seems like a dark street of some kind, with a bullet hole in his forehead, his eyes open, but blank.

I swallow a couple of times and take a step closer.

“Actually, yes. He was one of the ones who ushered us into that warehouse or whatever it was. He didn’t strike me as a low-ranking guy, but not as important as Frankie. I never heard his name though.”

“This helps. I have his phone and can track all his past whereabouts now, and at least I know that I’m not wasting my time. Thank you, Evelyn.”

I smile and nod. Once again Carter speaks with me more than just the polite hello or do you want a drink, and I find it hard to get used to it. Maybe he’s not quite as bad as I thought he was.

“Drink?” he asks, and I chuckle to myself as I drop my bag on a chair.

“Yes, please. A strong one, but sweet if possible.”

He nods and goes behind the bar himself.

“Oh, sorry, I thought a bartender might be here. I don’t want to bother you when you’re busy.”

“It’s no bother. I’m getting one myself too.”

I still feel awkward though, but I nod and smile either way.

“Trust me, he’ll eat out of the palm of your hand if you do that.”

That sweet voice…

When I turn, Finnigan walks in from the back, Tina next to him, and when his eyes land on me, I feel naked. I may be wearing loose joggers and a sports bra, but he watches me with startled hunger, drawing his gaze over me so slowly, I want to spread myself wide for him right here, on this wooden floor. No matter who watches.

“Evie…” he says on a breathy voice, his eyes lingering a bit too long on my breasts before they find my eyes.

Tina walks away and gives me a little wave before she takes a seat at the bar, next to Carter’s laptop.

“I was just… I trained downstairs.”

Oh my god, I’m mumbling. Keep it together, Evelyn!

“Yeah… you did.”

Hungry, so very, very hungry.

“Carter’s making me a drink.”

“You should ask Severin to take you back to the penthouse.” He takes a step closer, his heated gaze suggesting he doesn’t mean those words.

And I don’t want to go yet. “I want a drink first.”

“There’s alcohol at home.”

Home.That sounds awfully familiar, like it’s not just his home. I’m not going straight there anyway. Maya has an overnight play-date since Annika proposed that the kids should spend as much time together as they can before they’ll inevitably have to return home when this whole thing ends.

“I’m getting cabin fever. I’m having a drink here.”

Before he can give me another comeback, I move to the bar and climb onto one of the stools, my ass sliding back a bit too far in my attempt to be cocky. But I own it and brace my forearms on the bar, watching Carter’s curious gaze over us, a cocked eyebrow showing his amusement as he makes the drinks.

Finnigan shows up to my right, facing me instead of sitting on the stool, and his gaze spreads fire over my body. I dare a peak, and he’s watching my arched back, my ass, like he’s about to tackle me to the floor and feast on it.

Please, please feast on it!

And I realize, utterly horrified, that I’m going to leave a damp patch on this leather barstool. I have no idea how I’m going to hide it from him. Or the others.

There’s no going back now.

“One drink,” he says on a low rumble, his tone laced with whiskey and fire, “then I’m getting you home.”

My gaze shoots to him, drowning in the promise in his voice, and I know he doesn’t miss the hitch in my breath, nor the shift in my thighs as I press them together. I have no drink to fiddle with, only my fingers that are getting increasingly damper, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. Not when he doesn’t stop looking at me with azure eyes heavy with unspoken promises, his wide, thick shoulders tensing as he holds himself unusually still. A trickle of sweat runs from beneath my sports bra tickling down my spine, and I shiver at the sensation, my back arching slightly in response. His gaze shoots right there, and I think his hand was about to follow too, but he stops himself, flexing his fist as he follows that drop of sweat disappear in the seam of my leggings.

His eyes are still there, unmoving and tense. “Where’s Maya?”

“Downstairs with Maddox. She has a sleepover planned with Aaro after,” I say it all in one breath. One hot, heavy breath.

“Where?”

“Vincent’s.”

He only grunts in response, his gaze still fixed on my skin. Or my ass. Whichever it is, I curse the clothes covering the area, and I curse the company even more.

“Here you go, Evelyn.”

My eyes snap toward Carter who gives me such a suggestive look, there is no mistaking the fact that he wants me to know that he can tell what’s going on. My skin prickles yet again, because yes, Finnigan has eaten my pussy with such hunger, the ghost of his tongue is still there when I close my eyes, and he fingered me with enough expertise, I’m ready to beg him for more. But we haven’t spoken about it. He hasn’t said a word to me about what we have done. He’s giving me enough suggestive looks and considering how hung up he’s been on the forbidden side of things, I can certainly call this progress. Even without the verbal acknowledgment.

Where is this going?

How far is he going to allow it to go?

And where will I stop?

Because being here, in Queenscove, among people who have done nothing but protect me and root for me, has been gold dust for my growth. I’m a waitress in a café, but on the inside, I feel like I can take over the damn world.

Only, right now it’s not the world I’m craving to tackle, but Finnigan Hennessey. The man with a sharp jaw, an even sharper tongue, and forbidden desire painted vividly in his bright blue eyes. I should care about his previous rejections, they should stir me in the opposite direction, and this might make me stupid, but I crave his acceptance more.

Not because I’m a sucker for punishment, not because I’m a doormat, but because the moment he looked into my eyes when I walked out of that container, I saw a soul drowning in the same pain as mine. A person who couldn’t bear to scream his loneliness out loud, their mind breaking with the harrowing noise of it. I saw a man with a broken heart and a broken soul who wanted nothing more than kindred company. And I never said it, never even allowed it to touch on my inner monologue, but deep down I knew that person had to be me.

There are shackles around our hearts, binding our souls in catatonic states of silent despair—and we need each other to break them.

Even if I do leave this beautiful place that gave me my life back, at least I’ll leave unshackled. I’ll even leave my heart with him if I have to, because at least I’ll know that for a moment, I was free. And I’ll know that he is too.

I take the glass Carter carefully poured for me, and the first taste warms me with such decadent sweetness, I down three more big sips one after the other, on a groan deep in my throat.

Finnigan’s eyes widen, looking at the glass like it offended him somehow. I get only a swift growl in warning as he grabs it and downs it in one go, slamming it back on the bar. One drop glimmers at the corner of his mouth, and when the tip of his tongue reaches to lick it, I’m back in his bedroom, his head between my legs, my cries covered by his hand on my mouth.

God help me…

“Time to go.” He grabs my hand in his much larger one and pulls me down from the chair.

“Excuse me?” My protest lands on deaf ears, because he fully ignores me as he drags me back toward the back door.

I barely get to say goodbye as he grabs my back without even stopping, and ushers me through the corridor I came through. I try to pry myself out of his grip but fail.

“You don’t get to say what I do or don’t do, Finnigan. If I want to enjoy a drink, I can enjoy a damn—”I run into Finnigan’s back as he briefly stops at the top of the stairs.

Warm, wide, strong back I’m dying to rake my nails over. Christ, what is happening with me?

“Yo, Severin!” Finnigan calls out for his friend, ignoring me, and then sets off again, walking down the stairs.

“What’s up?”

“Are you ready to go now?”

“Yeah, we were just coming up for Evie,” he says with a narrowing gaze that drifts to me, then to our joined hands. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

I force my hand out of Finnigan’s hold, furious at his manhandling, because I’m getting tired of his hot and cold behavior. He’s reluctant to let go, but I don’t give him a choice, then I storm right past him and down the stairs, until I reach Maya quietly lacing one of her shoes.

“Come, sweet girl, let’s go see your new friend,” I tell her, moving her little hands away and doing up her laces myself so we can get the heck out of here.

“See you later?” Maddox asks, and I know he’s addressing Finn.

“Not likely. Busy tonight. See you tomorrow.”

He mutters a bye to me, and Maya too, but I let my sister answer, because busy tonight for Finnigan Hennessey can only mean one thing—he’s going to screw the life out of some random girl tonight.

Something stings behind my eyes, because maybe I was wrong this whole time, maybe I am an idiot, and this man is happy with the manacles binding him. And maybe he doesn’t give a shit about me after all.

I twitch when the door slams, and I know he’s gone. I thought he was done with his harem of women, even Morri and Madds thought so too, and I wish I wouldn’t have read so much into it, because clearly, we were all wrong.

I’m just half a notch on his headboard, the goth girl box he probably needed to check off.

I’m just another mark in Finnigan’s black book.