CHAPTER 7
It’s lunchtime when I get back to Katya’s place with three large bags and a shiny new black card that Morrigan threw in one of them. She gave me a warning glare that told me she was gonna bite me if I dared return it, then said it’s not hers, anyway. I haven’t touched it. It’s Maddox’s for sure. It looks exactly the same as the one he tried to give me at the ice cream place.
Jay helps me with the bags as I walk in, opening the door for me, but I stagger when the living room comes into view. It’s not Katya I find sitting on the couch with Maya.
What the hell is Finnigan doing here with my sister?
My steps toward them quicken, but I stagger when I see Katya in the kitchen, calm as she potters about. Feigning a relaxed wave to her takes effort, but it’s the strained smile she puts on in response that confuses me. I don’t stop to ask her about it, because I’m curious about the intense conversation my seven-year-old sister is engaged in with a man twenty years her senior. The back of the sofa faces me, and they don’t appear to see me coming.
“Evie told me that some of the other books are for older kids, but I still want to read them.” I hear Maya’s little voice.
“I may be in favor of breaking the rules once in a while, but she’s right with this one, sugar. I read them when I was older than you.” His gaze drifts to me. He knew I was here all along.
I’m sorry, what? Finnigan Hennessey is talking books with my sister?
My sister turns too and jumps and squeaks when she sees me, rushing toward me with yet another great big smile on her face that I didn’t put there.
“You’re not going to believe it, Evie! Finnigan likes Jules Verne, too. We’ve been talking about the one I’m reading now, and he said there’s another one I will love when I finish this one—Treasure Island. Can you get it for me, Evie? Please? It has pirates!”
My eyes widen, lips parting as I creep back to the entryway on uneasy steps, pulling out of one of the bags I came with exactly that—Treasure Island—a second-hand copy I bought from that little bookstore.
I’m still wrapped tight in disbelief as I return to her and hand her the paperback. Her eyes bulge when the title sinks in, then with an ear-piercing shriek, she throws her arms around me. It only lasts a second before she whips around and jumps back on the sofa, showing the man who looks like he just came from a beach photo shoot. He looks just as stunned as I am.
“Look, look!” She jumps on the sofa next to him. “It’s the same one. It’s like you talked!”
He only manages a nod before he straightens his surprise and gives her a quick smile before rising.
I want to ask him what he’s doing here, but it’s not my house. He probably comes here for Katya all the time.
It doesn’t explain why he’s watching me like that, though. His focus heats my skin and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. It was the same at Vincent’s house—every time he looked at me, I felt exposed down to my soul.
Tiny electric shocks flourish down my back, wrapping around my waist, and I move before they can reach the area that threatens deeply inappropriate thoughts.
“Could we talk for a moment?”
His voice stops me dead in my tracks. On a slow inhale, I turn, breathing in through the tightness gripping my chest. Katya walks over, a cold annoyance in her gaze directed straight at him. She obviously knows what this is about, and I’m not loving her expression.
“Evelyn, you—” she begins.
“Katya,” Finnigan warns, and her nostrils flare in response.
She wants to but doesn’t argue. I cross my arms against my chest, tightening them ever so slightly, as I cock my head.
“Maya, could you come with me for a moment?” Katya shifts toward my sister, and a moment later they are both out of the room.
This is only the second time Finnigan and I have been alone, and the first one did not go well at all. I suspect this one won’t be any different.
“You can’t tell me to leave again.” I begin because I’m can’t stand this silence, not when that prickle is back on my spine, “I live here. You’ll have to be the one to go.”
He drops his gaze for a second and my heart follows the moment realization strikes. That’s exactly what he’s about to do. I take a step back, eyes widening as I force my composure.
“I’m going to give you money so you can go back home. I know this is the only reason you’re not going back yet, and I want to make it happen. I will provide transport or a car, a place to stay when you get there, and enough money for you and your sister to be comfortable for a long while.”
Excuse me?
“You’re messing with me, right?” My arms drop, fists tightening as I force my anger into them rather than my tone.
“I’m happy to do it this week. I have a number in mind, you tell me if it’s enough or if this is gonna cost more.”
“Cost?” I choke on the word. “You’re actually being serious?”
This is not help, this is borderline bribery. The fact that my voice stayed at an almost calm level is nothing short of a miracle.
“Yes, I am.” His tone is cool, so matter-of-fact something tightens in my chest in response. “You need money to leave, and I have money to make it happen.”
Taking an involuntary step toward him as heat fills my chest, I let his words sink in along with their implication. Conflict flickered in his eyes for a split second, but I don’t care to unpack that right now. We’re two steps away from each other, too close, yet not close enough for me to slap him. And God, how my palm twitches to slap his handsome face.
“How dare you?!” The disdain bleeds through my voice, but I’m keeping my tone low since Maya’s in the other room.
“Excuse me?” he says with a scowl.
“You heard me. How dare you pay me off to leave Queenscove? Do you really think I’m that type of person?”
“It’s not any different from us helping to return all those kids to their parents or to whomever they were taken from.” He shrugs, the gesture irritating me further.
“Is that what you tell yourself to justify this? It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the other night?” I take another step toward him, flexing my hands at my sides as the itch intensifies.
The man sneers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The conflict is way clearer in his eyes now. The ire too.
“Prove it, then. Because I’ve been trying to make sense of your attitude toward me, Finnigan.”
His eyes flicker at the sound of his name and nostrils flare.
“From the first moment I saw you, when you found me in that container, you looked at me like I broke something of yours I didn’t know existed. And you had such… revulsion for me. I understood it then—I’m a poor, dirty, uneducated homeless girl who screwed up and got herself in trouble. But you still have not stopped watching me. You’re doing a better job at hiding the revulsion, but now it’s like you’re demanding I fix whatever you think it is I broke.” Where did I get the guts to call this man out on his attitude?
This is going to bite me right in the ass, judging by his darkening expression.
“You’re crossing a line, girl.” His tone turns to a low rumble, and my palm whips against his cheek on a loud crack.
“Do not call me girl!”
I freeze, eyes widening as if what I did only just sinks in. His eyes widen in shock, his lips are pursed in annoyance, but the man is too stunned to speak. Or act.
Nope, I was wrong. So, so wrong. On rushed steps, my back is pressed against the wall, the hand I slapped him with pinned by the wrist above my head, as his other slams against the wall next my head. I’m caged in. His chest rises and falls on strained, heavy breaths that sizzle against my skin. He’s so… so close, yet his hand around my wrist is the only part of him touching me.
I have to crane my neck to look him in the eyes, but the intensity in them presses against my soul. My breath is trapped somewhere in my lungs as I await the impending punishment. All the courage I had a moment ago has stalled, simmering beyond this painful anticipation.
But something else seeps in through it all. Through the closeness of our bodies, in the heat radiating between us, amongst the heavy breaths and the touch of his powerful grip, invisible threads sizzle. They start over my lips, sliding down and wrapping around my throat, turning to goosebumps as they fall over my chest. They graze my breasts before they drop to my belly and my gaze widens on a slight gasp when I realize I can’t stop where the sizzling sensation is heading to.
This is so wrong. The man just insulted me down to my bones, and yet my body has no reservations. I expected punishment, but he looks at me like he’s the one being punished. I may be seeing things, but I swear he looks just as I feel—charged with a heated tension we can’t control.
“Evelyn,” he whispers my name like it’s too heavy on his tongue. “I need you to go.”
“Why?” It comes out like something between a breath and a whimper.
“Leave Queenscove.” He ignores my question.
“No.”
“Goddamn it, woman!” His hand flexes around my wrist and my free hand shoots up before me instinctively.
His muscles tense when I grab onto his side yet he doesn’t let go. Doesn’t even move an inch. But his bright blue eyes darken, and a few curly strands I itch to wrap around my finger fall around his face as he leans in further.
Christ, no man should ever be allowed to look this good.
“You can’t do it, can you?” I whisper, my gaze straining to stay on his eyes and not move further down. “You can’t prove that you’re not chasing me away because of the other night. What are you afraid of, Finnigan? Why do you want to get rid of me so badly?”
“You’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I reading too much into this too?” I look between us, at the closeness of our bodies, before returning to his azure eyes.
His nostrils flare again, and his gaze drops to my lips for a heavy moment before it comes back to my eyes. A raging fire burns through the blue.
“Yes. You’re just a—”
“Don’t you dare say it again.” I seethe. God, the way I despise being called a girl.
“Too young. Far, far too young.”
“For what?” I challenge.
He sighs, too many seconds passing without an answer.
“Stop being fucking stubborn. I’m offering you money with no strings attached. An easy way out,” he deflects again, but this time I’m absolutely done with it.
“No strings attached?” I scoff. “I don’t believe that for a second. Your kind doesn’t operate like that, and we both know it. There’s always a price to pay with the mafia,”—I throw the word to see how it lands, if he’s going to deny it—“and I’ve had enough taken away by your world. I will never, ever accept your blood money.”
That, he did not like.
He releases me in a split second and takes a step back.
“Blood money?” he says, raising his voice. “We saved you, Evelyn. When the hell did you get up on your high horse and forget about that fact? This fucking blood money made it possible!”
He doesn’t deny the name I called them by. Anger seeps through my veins like liquid fire, throbbing in my temples.
No. I refuse to entertain this. I had no choice in any of this. His world took everything from mine. Even if he didn’t wield the hand who did it.
“I’m not taking your money, and I refuse to be chased away. You know very well why I can’t return to Fleeton yet. But don’t worry, I will gladly leave you and this place once I earn my way back.”
“Looking forward to it!” he spits back with a sneer.
And with those harsh words, he spins on his heels and walks out.