CHAPTER 20
Against my better judgment, I freeze in place, his voice snaking around my body and holding me pinned. I should run. I have to run. But my mind and body are not in sync, and no matter my internal screams, my legs can’t move. My lungs are blocked with ice and no breath seems to penetrate.
“Evelyn!” Someone’s bellow pushes through the terror and yanks at me. My instincts kick in and I start fighting against the hold, blinded by the memories.
“It’s me, it’s Morri! Run, Evelyn, run!”
I faintly register the words and my vision clears enough to see her flaming locks, and air starts to fill my lungs again, pushing through the frost that stalled it. My feet feel like my own again and I push against the asphalt, letting Morri pull me away. The sound of the world explodes around me, and I hear Maddox’s rage, the violent commotion, grunts of pain and cracking bones.
Maddox!
I falter for a split moment, turning to see if he’s safe, and my nightmares come to life all at once.
“Hello, gorgeous. I like your new hair.” Frankie’s sleazy face is too close to mine, and his bruising grip circles around my middle.
“Nooo!” The scream rips from the bottom of my lungs as I thrash against him.
“That’s it. You know I like it when you fight me.”
His lisp makes the memories too real, and thorned vines wrap around my spine, spreading around every bone of my body on a violent tremble, until they reach my fingertips.
But somewhere through the bone-choking panic, Maddox’s training comes back to me.
“Get the fuck away from me!” I can hardly believe those words left my mouth, but I’m proud of the confidence in them.
Grabbing one of his fingers splayed over my belly, I twist back until the crunch tears a scream out of the man who raped me. I don’t let him dwell on it, whipping my head back until it makes contact. I have no idea what I hit, but the pain in my skull and his curses are enough to tell me my aim was good. His grip falters enough for me to pull out of it, and I swing my elbow back, slamming into his middle, before I whirl and swing my foot at his dick.
I smirk when he doubles over in pain, proud that my actions took him by surprise. I take advantage of the distraction, and uppercut him under his chin while he’s bent over his precious balls, then sidekick him to the chest. He lands against one of his men who staggers on his feet, a limp look in his bloody eye, and they both fall to the ground.
My training is still fresh, my body only starting to become stronger, and without the element of surprise, I don’t think my moves would have worked this well. Though, a kick in the balls will always work.
I don’t dwell. Madds screams at me to get in the car, and I run before he finishes the sentence. Morri shoves me in the back, and we watch as he fights six, crap, no—eight guys. Including Frankie now, who got his bearings and rose. Only, he turns his attention to our car, distracting Madds from the men he’s fighting off. Some go down, but—
“Behind you!” I yell, but he can’t hear me from the car, and I bang my fists against the window, hoping it will work.
Madds catches Frankie in a headlock, and I take momentary pleasure from his bulging eyes, the pressure in his head likely growing. But in this moment of distraction, another guy punches Madds on the side of his head and Lulu’s fear-stricken wail makes me flinch as I suck in a breath.
“I have to help him!” I shout and grab the door handle.
“Evelyn, they could take you again!” Morri holds me in place as we watch Madds grab Frankie and throw him ten feet away like he’s nothing but a sack of potatoes, taking two other guys down.
Maddox has blood coming from the back of his head, but ignores it, the look in his eyes feral. In the next moment one of the guys who jumps him is nothing but a crumpled mess on the ground, his head facing the wrong direction, his eyes empty of life.
He expertly beats the shit out of the rest of the men, moving swifter than a man his size should, and just when I think it’s all under control, one of the men who was unconscious gets his bearings and rises a few feet behind Madds. He doesn’t see him, though, too focused on fighting two of the, surprisingly well trained, men who still stand.
Lulu gasps at the same time I notice the man behind Madds pulling something from his hip as he staggers toward my friend. The scene runs in slow-motion and my stomach drops.
Oh, God, it’s a gun!
“Fuck this! Go, go, go!” Morri yells, and I rip open the car door, jumping out as the adrenaline surges through my nerves.
I run as fast as I can toward the man who’s about to shoot Madds, my throat aching from a scream I didn’t realize is ripping through my throat. He turns to me, an annoyed and confused look in his eyes, but before he can act, I tackle him to the ground.
One single gunshot is fired into the air as his back slams against the concrete on a pain-filled grunt. He grabs me to push me away, but I smash my fist into his face, and he falters.
Then I punch him again. Harder, faster, the crunch of bones cracking the armor I so carefully constructed around myself, holding at bay the person I pretend not to be.
Over and over, I slam my fists in his face.
There is no skill in my hits, only volatile frenzy. My knuckles ache, but adrenaline surges with each strike, urging me on.
Tires screech in the distance, someone curses, but I don’t turn. I certainly don’t stop. On the contrary, I try to hit harder, wrapping my fist in my palm and smashing the sides in his face until he goes limp beneath me.
Something grips my shoulders attempting to tug me away, but I resist. I don’t stop. I can’t. I won’t. The grip lowers, sliding under my armpits to lift me off the limp man, but I fight back.
“Evelyn!”
My fists pause midair when the warmth and urgency in that sweet, sweet voice penetrate the frenzy. It’s not his touch around my middle though, I would recognize it.
I turn just as Finnigan slams the car door behind him. Strong hands lift me and settle me back on my feet, but I don’t move as I watch his curly hair, as wild as the look in his eyes, bounce as he rushes to me.
“Evelyn.” He says my name again, but this time there is longing in his voice too, and I want to sink in the warmth of it.
He reaches me with panic in his wide eyes, breaking through my frenzied state completely, his breathing quick and shallow as he pats all over my body.
“Are you hurt?” he asks in a desperate tone as he continues the rapid inspection.
I shake my head, because I don’t think I can open my mouth without sobs breaking out.
“Evie, does anything hurt? There’s too much blood, I can’t tell.” The desperation grows in his tone, meeting my eyes, and I realize he didn’t see my previous, silent response.
There’s blood?
Of course… the man on the ground.
I shake my head again, but my lips quiver.
Something breaks in him then and there, clutching the sides of my head in his warm hands, as he steps even closer, his body lining up with mine. I seize his forearms, holding onto him, this intensity, his fierce gaze with its longing and pain, to his hidden need and demand, like he might run away from me once he realizes what he’s doing. What he’s revealing.
“Never again.” He growls.
I don’t know what he means by that, but I feed on each syllable like it gives me life.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight, Evelyn. Ever.”
I don’t get a chance to agree or protest, because he crushes me against his warm, hard chest, his arms circling my body and wrapping himself around me. The weight I was holding onto, the panic and fear, leave my body in this tight, comforting hold.
“Madds, is Madds okay?”
He doesn’t answer, but he tenses against me.
“That guy was about to shoot me from behind. She…” Madds trails off as he explains to Finnigan, and his hold relaxes once more. “I’m okay, Evie.”
The safety of him draws my shock to the surface and every bit of my body shakes all at once. I don’t realize my fingers are digging into his skin until I feel his touch on my back, rubbing soothingly.
“It’s okay, Evie darling, you’re safe.”
Then the tears come, the damn just at the edge of breaking, but only a few slip through the cracks. I can’t allow myself to break, not this hard. I can’t be this weak.
“You’re safe. I’m here.”
He holds me to him, ignoring the pain I’m probably causing with my sharp nails as I force myself to unload the adrenaline without bursting completely.
I’m okay. I’m okay.
It registers in my subconscious that the man I was hitting stopped moving at one point. Yet, I can’t bring myself to care that I might have killed him. I should. Right? There’s a strong chance I took a life, and it should feel a certain way.
It doesn’t.
It never has before.
Not the first time, only months after I became homeless, when a seedy guy accosted me on the street after my dinner shift was over. I lived and worked in the wrong side of town, I knew it was going to happen eventually. He wanted what I was not offering or willing to give. I was easy prey. But he didn’t expect the random slat of wood I found on the ground to be smashed in his guts. And I didn’t expect the smile that creeped on my lips at the satisfaction I got when he cursed in pain. I hit him until he gave up on me and ran away.
If only I could have done that when Frankie B took my sister.
Wait.
I pull my face away from the comfort of Finnigan’s chest and look around. “Where is he?! Where’s Frankie?”
“He’s gone,” Maddox grunts somewhere behind me. “He slid in his car and drove away when the last of his men was going down. I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry.”
He’s still out there, and he wants me. The thought brings a shudder back into my bones and Finnigan tightens his hold around me once again.
“We’re going home. Now.” His tone is sharp and low, pulling back to look at me, one hand possessive on the small of my back.
Then he confuses the pants out of me when he pulls his shirt out of his trousers, and brings the bottom of it to my face, wiping it.
“What the… what are you doing?!” If that doesn’t wake me out of my stupor, I don’t know what would do the job.
“Maya is in the car. I don’t want her to see you like this.”
“She’s here?” I try to break away, but his hold on my back keeps me grounded as he keeps swiping at my face.
“You don’t think I would have left her alone with June, don’t you? She needs to be kept safe, with us.”
Delicious warmth spills through my soul at his words, and I feel it deep in my belly. I can’t believe he would think of her, of us, like that. When he stops rubbing at my face, his action finally registers as I see his now dirty shirt—blood. A lot of it. Then I dare look down at the man I pummeled as I straddled him, and I fail to recognize any features on his face under all the blood.
Christ, what have I done?
“We’ll wash the rest of it at home. You’re sure you’re not hurt?” he asks, and I give him a quick nod.
Once again, he tugs me against his chest, pressing me against him, like he wants me embedded in his soul. But that warmth leaves me too soon as he steps away and takes my hand instead.
Morri, Lulu, and Madds stand close by, curious looks on all their faces. Maddox raises an eyebrow, but Finnigan warns him off with a growl as he pulls me toward his car.
“Not a fucking word.”
His friend doesn’t respond, but Morri’s features look lighter, amused in a knowing kind of way, and a flush heats my cheeks. How inappropriate of me, considering I just punched a guy to death.
“Call the cleaning crew,” Finnigan tells his friend.
“Done. I’ll take Morri and Mamaw to Vin.”
Just on cue Mamaw June climbs out of the car we’re heading to, giving me a kind, worried smile. I mirror that smile in hopes of providing her with a bit of comfort and confirmation that I’m okay. “Thank you for looking after Maya.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. Call me later, okay?” God this woman is an angel.
“Keep Lulu with you!” Finnigan turns to Madds as he puts me in the car and straps me in, refusing to let me do it myself.
“The fuck he will!” I hear Lulu’s protests.
“Shush, woman. We’re not risking any of you,” Madds says, and I would laugh if small hands weren’t wrapping around my neck from behind, and the car door shuts.
“Evie!” there’s such an innocent enthusiasm in Maya’s voice.
“Hi honey! Are you okay?”
I avoid turning to her in case there’s still blood on my face. She’s not going to see the splatters on my blouse, since it’s luckily a dark burgundy.
“Yes! I spent the evening with Finnigan. He read to me!” She sounds calm, unaffected. Mamaw June must have shielded her.
“He did?” My gaze wanders to the man in question, who climbed into the driver’s seat and slams the door.
He nods as he turns his attention to the road and drives off.
“Yes. He’s so good at reading with… what do you call it? Intonation? Can he read me to bed tonight? Will you let him, Evie? Pleaaase?”
“Oh, honey, I don’t think Finnigan—”
“Of course I will.” He cuts me off and answers my demanding sister.
“Thank you!” she squeals, excited.
So, I guess he intends to stay over at my apartment until Maya falls asleep. Right, well, that’s going to be interesting. Though, the idea makes me feel a lot safer, especially as Frankie B might know where I live, now that he’s made his intentions pretty damn clear. We knew he was pissed about his shipments being screwed with, but we didn’t know I was even on his radar. There’s security in Lulu’s building, but I’ll stay up tonight just in case. There’s no way I can sleep, anyway.
I had hopes that I could fake my way through the system and enroll Maya in school, but that is fully squashed now. Not until Frankie is out of the picture and into a grave.
“So, what happened out there? Mamaw June was hugging me, and I couldn’t see a thing,” my sister asks.
Oh, thank God. Okay, I need to bake Mamaw June the biggest cake ever. The woman is a saint.
“We just needed a little help to go home. Car trouble,” I lie to her as I gaze out the window at the pretty streets of Queenscove.
Only, the bar we went to was quite close to our apartment building, and we just drove past it.
“Wait. Finnigan that was—we just passed my street.”
He doesn’t look at me, his gaze running over all the mirrors, on high alert. It makes me look too, but I don’t notice anything out of place. He’s probably just checking to make sure we’re not being followed.
“We’re going to my apartment.” He grunts.
“What?” I exclaim but lower my voice so my sister doesn’t catch onto my surprise. “Why? We’ll be perfectly fine at mine.”
“You will be alone,” he says with another grunt. “I told you, Evelyn. Never. Again.” He punctuates each word with such finality, I’m left with parted lips, unspoken words hanging between them, and a new, burning ache between my legs.
Not again.
Why does this always happen in the most inappropriate moments?
If he notices how I clench my thighs together, or my quickening breaths, he doesn’t say a thing. I shut my mouth and settle back in the soft suede seat of his SUV, silently thankful that it’s not the normal leather that sticks uncomfortably to my bare skin and wait for this annoying and disturbingly attractive man to take me to his home.
Should I protest more? Probably.
My hands, achy and marked with too much drying blood, tremble, and my legs do the same, for an entirely different reason.
I’m startled when his hand moves from the center console and hovers so close to my thigh. I watch it, silently urging it to drop over my flesh, to clutch it, hold it, anything. Instead, he moves to press a button on the dashboard and warm air blows into the car. I look at him and he steals one short glance at me before occupying himself with the road ahead.
“You looked cold,” he explains himself. When I don’t answer, he continues, “You’re shivering. You should have not worn such a short skirt.”
I’m about to say I’m not cold, but I stop myself.
“It’s not that short.”
Way to make it awkward Evelyn. You could have just said thanks. It’s not like you’re not silently imagining your sister not being in the car, his hand on your thigh, rubbing down until he finds the seam of your skirt, then runs upward until another seam touches his fingers, and then, without no notice at all, he—
“Are we there yet?”
My sister’s excited, high-pitched tone makes me straighten in the seat. This time it doesn’t escape Finnigan’s notice how I squeeze my thighs together, biting my bottom lip to suppress the need from spilling from my mouth.
Christ, we better be there soon, because this car is starting to feel too small, the air too hot, his proximity too much.
“In a minute.”
He takes a familiar turn and there we are, in front of the apartment building where I used to live with Katya. Considering that I was face to face with Frankie B not even an hour ago, it feels like no time has passed at all since I first lived here.
But it has. I’m not the same weak person I was then, and if Frankie B dares to come after me or my sister again, I will be ready.
He will pay.