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

CHAPTER 38

Fucking finally!

This bastard evaded us for too long, and no matter how much of his operation we have destroyed so far, the satisfaction is never going to come until Roberto Bartiste is dead.

“Perfect!” I exclaim, stealing a glance at Evelyn who frowns at my reaction, her gaze switching between the phone screen, the paperwork, and me.

“Okay, I’m turning around.”

“Morrigan and Loreley are joining Maya.” Vin’s avoiding saying where. I wonder if he thinks someone could be listening.

“I’m taking her too. Text me where to meet you.”

“No!” Evelyn’s words rush out as I end the call.

“There’s no time to debate this.”

She’s pressed back into the seat as I turn the car around, earning some angry honks from other drivers. I speed up, weaving through the evening traffic, and I head back toward the edge of town.

“Exactly. There is no time. Do not waste it by driving back to Mamaw June’s.” She shoves the paperwork back in the envelope and pops it back in the glove box.

I clench my fist around the steering wheel and press harder on the gas as I force myself not to raise my tone at her. “That’s the best place where you can be right now—safe. With your sister.”

“I appreciate that, but it makes no sense. Let’s just go meet the others.”

“You heard Vin, the others are going there as well,” I retort.

“You know I meant Vincent and the others, not the girls! Why are you being like this?”

“I’m not discussing this anymore. There are loads of security around the forest and Mamaw June’s, it’s safe there.”

“Security? I managed to sneak past them.”

“Trust me, Vincent almost chopped a few heads because of that. No one goes through anymore.”

“Oh, god,” she whispers to herself, probably wondering if anyone’s hurt because of her, then shakes the thought away. “It’s too far, Finn. Please, we have to go after Bartiste.” She wraps her small hand around my thigh as her eyes plead with me.

“No, I have to go after him. Me, not you!” Holding my tone back didn’t last long, not when she insists on being so damn stubborn.

“Finn, plea—”

“Listen to me, Evelyn!” I roar, tires screeching as I pull over, turn in my seat, and grip her sweet face in my hands. “I will not risk your life! Over and over, you underestimate just how much you mean to me. What I’m willing to do to keep you safe. I can’t lose you, damn it. Don’t you understand? I fucking love you, Evelyn!”

Her plump lips part on a soft gasp, and her eyes are like saucers as she takes in my words.

“You mean too much. So fucking much…” I whisper now, brushing the tip of my nose to hers, and lean my forehead against hers.

“Yo—you love me?”

Pulling back, it’s my turn for my eyes to bulge. I did say that, didn’t I? Holy shit… I do. I love her.

Fuck me.

“I didn’t stand a chance against you, Evie darling. You’re a bright fucking star in a soulless world, and you burned right through the shackles that held me back.”

Her gaze softens, the words sinking in slowly, caressing her soul as she clutches the back of my head and pulls me in. We kiss feverishly, allowing ourselves these stolen moments before the very thing that brought us together will end.

When we break apart, her eyes seem to sparkle even through this darkness. They spell overwhelming emotions I’m not going to make her put into words right now.

“We have to go, Finn. We have to get him. Please don’t waste this shot. If he escapes again—”

“Is this why you’re insisting? Evie, darling, he’s not getting away. I promise you.”

“I want… I have to—damn it!” the struggle is vivid in her features. “I need to be there.”

Does she not trust me to do this? Or maybe, like me, she needs the visual confirmation that the bastard is dead.

I shake my head, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Trust me to do this for us, Evie. Bartiste will die at my hands. I’ll get you all the proof you want, just don’t ask me to put you in danger.”

Her chest rises on a slow, thoughtful breath, and after her eyes drift off for a moment, she finally nods.

“I trust you.”

But no sooner she speaks the words, our world explodes into chaos, splintering pops hitting the trunk of the car.

“Down on the floor!” I shout as I put the car back into gear and drive off, the acceleration pressing me back into the seat.

In the rear-view mirror, headlights approach at dangerous speed. More bullets hit us and the shattering of glass sounds behind us as Evie slides as far down in the foot-well as she can.

“Finn!” she yelps, pleading but unsure for what.

“Goddamn it!” I swear as the passenger of the car following us holds a gun out of the side window. “Stay down!”

Another bullet pierces the back window, but this one passes through the front, too close to my head, and I floor it as I speed through the industrial estate. This is gonna be a shitshow. There are still civilians driving on these streets. Granted, not many, but it’s enough for one to call the fucking police.

I press a few buttons on the car screen, and after two rings, Carter answers.

“We’re taking fire in fucking traffic! Call the Chief to manage this bullshit!”

“Done. Where are you?”

“Edge of the business park in the industrial estate.”

“Are you hit?” Carter asks.

“Only the car. I’ll get rid of them.”

“The plan is in motion, that’s why they came for you.”

“Shit, I thought I had time to drop her off.” Another shot pierces the car body and I swerve, narrowly missing the curb.

“It’s sooner than expected, but we’re ready.”

“Send the feed to my car. I’ll meet you as agreed. And Carter…”

No answer comes as he waits.

“Bartiste’s head is mine!” I warn.

He chuckles then disconnects the call.

“We’re not going to June’s then?” Evie asks as more bullets snap through the air, grazing the car.

“A bit fucking late now!” I shout over the roar of the engine.

We can’t attract attention to Vincent’s mom’s house. We’ll put everyone in danger.

“Where’s your gun? I’ll try to shoot them.” My Evie is brave, but this is not the time.

“Stay down!” CCTV footage shows up on the car screen when I accept the notification that showed up there.

The warehouse is still empty, but not for long.

Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I take a sharp turn on a high-pitched screech of the tires and Evelyn’s yelp, and put my foot down once again, speeding through the quiet street lit by old, yellow lamps. The car behind us follows, but the bullets have paused, and they’re further behind.

“Come on you bastard, come on,” I mutter under my breath, my gaze snapping between the road ahead and the mirror.

“We’re supposed to evade them, not will them closer!” Evelyn shouts from her makeshift hiding place.

“Evade them? I’m not running, darling, I’m fucking hunting!” I roar.

I lift the foot off the gas enough that they’re starting to catch up. A few more bullets fly and I know they hit the back seat from the muffled sound.

“What’s the plan?” she shouts.

“When I tell you, get up and hold the fuck on!”

She doesn’t answer, but from the corner of my eye I can see how she’s bracing herself. The road is quieter the deeper we drive into the estate and my gut is beaming with anticipation.

“Now!” I scream.

Evelyn whips out of her hiding place, plants herself in her seat, and manages to strap herself in as I swerve slightly to the left, and plant my foot on the brake. With a shriek, we’re right next to the car that followed us, only I let us fall back just enough that my front lines up with their back, and pull a sharp right, catching their back with a crashing jolt.

“Gun in arm rest!” I shout as their car turns perpendicular to ours and I accelerate to carry them forward. The noise of blocked tires against the asphalt grits my eardrums, and I wiggle the steering wheel around to keep them in front of me.

Evelyn complies, and without further instruction, she cocks the weapon, lines it up out the window, and pulls the trigger on a loud pop.

“Good girl!” She hit the driver, and the shooter looks angry now. “Hold on!”

I press the foot on the gas and turn the wheel a few inches to the left, guiding them exactly where I want them, then slam my foot on the brake, screeching to a halt. Their car shifts straight into a concrete wall, windows smashing as it jolts.

Wasting no time, I grab the gun out of Evelyn’s hand, and step out. On hurried, unfaltering steps, I reach their car illuminated by my headlights. The shooter attempts to pull himself out through the driver’s seat, climbing over the man who’s grunting in pain. Not dead yet, then.

Anger-driven adrenaline courses through my veins at the thought that the bastards could have fucking killed Evelyn. On echoing pops, I let two shots fly one after the other, and the men take their last breaths as blood trickles down their foreheads. Without a second thought, I whip around and go right back inside the car.

“What’s happening, Finnigan? What are those?” Evelyn asks, eyes fixed on the car screen.

A smirk pulls at my lips as the infrared camera feed shifts between different locations inside the warehouse. Men are strewn all over, standing, sitting, laid down. A small army invades the space through the back entrance, arms drawn. Another group sneaks in through the back, trying to ambush the people already waiting there.

“Seriously, what is this?!”

“Bartiste’s men. Coming for us,” I answer, a calm quality to my tone.

“No! Finnigan, oh my god! We have to do something!” She shifts in her seat, hands trembling as she presses them to the sides of her head, brows drawn up.

She claims she might want to leave, but she cares so much about men she never met, men she only knows as being part of The Sanctum.

“Watch, darling.” I nod toward the screen.

Bright green light flares on the feed as shots are fired, and Evelyn shrieks when the bullets hit the men, one by one caught in a frenzied attack.

“Wait, why aren’t they fighting back?” she asks, her tone slow as she stops listening to her emotions and reads the scene before her. “Are they…?”

“Dead,” I confirm before the question is asked. “They’re shooting their own men. Ones we killed earlier.”

“Bait,” she whispers.

I nod watching the scene as it calms and confusion sets in. Putting the car back into gear I set off again, and Evelyn gasps just as the camera feed turns white with the flames that engulf the warehouse. Then it all goes black.

“What was that?”

“A culling,” I answer. “We planted a seed that we have Frankie B.”

“But he’s dead.”

“Aye. But his dear father has no reason to believe that. The beach was spotless clean within the hour. No bodies, no crime. All he would have known is that he stupidly came to get you, and disappeared. There’s not much of a stretch from there to believing we protected you. But this was just a ruse, and we knew Bartiste would know that his son wouldn’t be there. He thought he was going to kill us in our own ambush, but we used it to relieve him of some of his army. Sloan’s men are in the perimeter, cleaning out the leftovers.”

Sirens wail as we turn into another side street on our way out of Queenscove. It sounds like a fire engine, likely going toward the explosion we just caused, but I still don’t want to attract attention with all these bullet holes piercing the car and the busted front.

“When we devised the plan, we were worried Bartiste wouldn’t give a shit about his son. We didn’t know anything about him until you told us. We thought he just popped up in the picture, like some bastard son. If that was the case, his emotional connection to the kid wouldn’t have been strong enough. But one of our more recent captives shed some light on the situation after we tempted him with his family’s demise. We wouldn’t kill innocents unless attacked, but the poor idiot didn’t know that.”

“Jesus… is he still alive? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know.” She exhales a heavy breath and shakes her head. “So what about Frankie?”

“His mother was Bartiste’s ex. Not married, but a long-time partner. Abusive relationship from the sounds of it, and she took a page out of her baby daddy’s book and disappeared, along with little Frankie. But it turns out that some evil is inherited, because in his early teens, the son forced them out of hiding. He sought his dad and swore his allegiance to him. Bartiste took the mom captive, but apparently was reluctant to trust him. Though, he was also desperate to have his kid back. After all, he was the heir to his disgusting kingdom, and already he showed signs to be as cruel as his daddy. He also became Bartiste’s weakness, so he kept him hidden for a long time. This was still happening at the time Bartiste came to Queenscove last time.”

She knows which time I mean now, I don’t need to explain. Evelyn doesn’t say a word, simply waits for me to continue, and I find that, after all I confessed to her, those memories from eight years ago feel… a little more distant. Not like fresh wounds any longer.

“The guy said that Frankie himself told some of his story. He saw what happened to his dad, what we did to him. He was the one who tracked him down in the hospital, he probably knew of the alias his dad would use. That’s when the son nursed his broken father back to health, and stepped up in the business. He proved himself to his father, and to cement his commitment to the cause he killed his own mother. Stabbed her.”

“Christ, that’s personal. I mean—” Evelyn sighs. “A gun is quicker.”

“Agreed. Frankie didn’t just prove himself, he showed his father he’s just like him. Which is how we were quite sure our plan would work.”

“Rather ironic that Frankie died the same way he killed his mother.” There’s a tinge of amusement curling her lips. “Why wouldn’t Bartiste just think his son is dead, since you captured him?”

“Carter. After planting the seed, Bartiste, or rather one of his men, contacted us. Proof of life was requested, and our resident genius created a deep fake using AI technology, and gave him the proof.”

I chuckle at the memory. I saw it. It was fucking good. I didn’t even try to understand how Carter did it.

“He can do that? Why does Carter know how to mess with artificial intelligence tech?”

“Amongst other things, for the exact reason why he used it. In case someone does this, or other things, to us, he can learn how to spot it. Reverse the process. Fight back.”

“Jesus… I must admit, he does scare me a little.” she says running her fingers through her deep violet hair, “I guess we’re lucky the man is on our side.”

“Yeah. We’re all well aware. We’re even luckier The Carver is on our side.”

“That’s his nickname, right? What do you mean?”

“The man studies medieval torture methods as light reading. You’ve seen how brutal, how dangerous Madds can be. Carter is… different. He’s silent in his brutality, a different kind of predator, but he feeds on life-force. On screams. On pain. And tears. And as the name suggests… he carves.”

She grimaces at the mental image.

“Would he ever betray you since he’s so… cold?”

“Never. I’m not sure if he can love. Maybe in his own way. But loyalty is important to him.”

“Most times loyalty is better than love… So the agreed location mentioned to him was not this warehouse?” Evelyn asks, pointing to the now black screen.

“No. Different one. We’re going there right now.”

I grab my phone and shoot a text to Carter.

Still alone?

The response comes within five seconds.

On his way.

Bartiste is nearing. The adrenaline that has been slowly leaving my body as we’ve been driving, is returning. We were only a few minutes away, but I was anxious that more of Bartiste’s men could have followed us. I really wish I could have taken Evelyn to Mamaw June, but it’s too late. Too dangerous.

“When we get there, I’m hiding you in a room and you have to stay there. I’m being serious, Evelyn. You cannot. Fucking. Move. Got it?”

I’m focused on the narrowing road as we pass through the old, wrought-iron gates of the abandoned sugar factory, and pull in by an old shed next to another one of our cars. She hasn’t answered me.

“You got it, Evie?”

“Yes, yes. Stay hidden. Do not move. Got it.” Her tone carries a bit too much stubbornness. I hope it’s not a lie. “Why are we parking basically at the front, in plain view?”

I get out of the car and go to grab her. One kiss I steal before I usher her toward the looming, creaky building that hasn’t seen much life in the last thirty years.

“Because Carter planted another seed that this is our hiding spot, a temporary center of operations. And also that we’re under the impression we’ve successfully killed Bartiste,” I answer with a chuckle.

“He thinks he’s ambushing us.”

“Exactly.”

We pass through a secondary door since we’ve soldered shut the main one, and after a couple of corridors, we’re in the main space of the factory. A projector screen lights up the space and its old machinery, as our men find their positions in the shadows.

“What is that?” Evelyn exclaims, pointing at the video playing on the screen.

I steer her in the other direction, toward the stairs, before she can see the gruesome scene projected there.

“Best not to look at that, Evie.”

“This is a fucking bad idea!” Madds rushes to us, Jay, one of our men in tow.

“Trust me, brother. I know. There was no other choice. Jay, take her up to the archive room. It’s far enough away, but still in decent reach. Take two more men with you. Protect her at all costs.”

“Of course, sir.”

Another one of our guys comes over with bulletproof vests for both of us, and I quickly strap Evelyn into hers, then throw mine on.

“No! Finnigan—”

But Maddox pulls her in a crushing hug, his lips a tight line as he looks at me. Yeah buddy, I’m fucking worried out of my mind too. She turns to me once she’s released out of his grip.

“I want to stay with you, please Finnigan, I can’t… what if something happens?”

I guide her pretty face to mine and press a deep kiss to her lips. When I move away, tears brim her eyes, squeezing my chest. I hope nothing happens to me so I can see her gorgeous face again.

“Jay will keep you safe while I deal with the bastard who wronged you.”

“No, I mean what if something happens to you? To Madds?”

God, I love her. She’s more worried about our safety. Leave it to Evelyn to think of everyone but herself.

“Then you’ll nurse me back to health. We’ll take Severin to a hospital.” I grin, peppering kisses to the tears that are now flowing down her pretty face.

Finally she chuckles. “I’ll be very angry and annoying in that case.”

“I don’t expect any less from you, Evie darling.” I pull her in my arms one more time, then reluctantly let go of her. “Now go! Hide! And stay there.”

She nods and slowly backs away, giving a chaste smile to Madds as she finally leaves with Jay up the creaky, metal stairs and disappears behind a wall.

“He’s passed the gates!” someone’s shout echoes through the factory.

We all disperse, hiding in the best spots we’ve already scouted when we assessed the place. Mine is next to Ronan. All but two access routes have been sealed shut, and blasting through those metal doors will be too much hassle, so we know exactly where Bartiste is coming from. We have the best view of the asshole’s face as he’ll walk into this space and see exactly what he came here to retrieve.

Maybe the anguish we’re hoping for won’t mar his features. But if it does, I don’t want to miss it.

When the creek of the metal door echoes through the vast space, I know—it’s finally time.