Page 54 of Shattered Hearts
Grunts come from the den, as if Finn is lifting something heavy. Exactly what is he doing in there?
I rummage in my bathroom closet for a thin beach towel.
“Wake up.” Finn’s tone shoots a bolt of fear through me.
Dread twists my stomach like a pretzel.
I don’t want to think about it, but Finn was trained to be an enforcer by Shane Gallagher and my father. That can only mean one thing. He’s capable of inflicting unimaginable pain on his enemies. And unless I stay right here in the safety of my bathroom, I’m going to get a ringside seat.
After my time in the tub, my panic has receded considerably, so I decide to brave it. But when I return to the den with the towel and the full can, nausea crashes over me.
Finn has moved Troy onto my modified coffee table and retied him. His legs bend over the standing side, and his headis reclined at the bottom of the slanted tabletop. Shock liquefies my insides.
I have a strong stomach. That’s a job requirement for people who work in shelters. But being able to stand stories as they’re told to me is very different from watching torture take place right before my eyes.
He’s about to waterboard my ex in the middle of my living room.
There’s a sentence I wasn’t expecting to mull over today.
All hints of the man who called me “angel”a little while ago have disappeared. I somehow forgot that the man who leaves me lost and breathless with his kisses also tears people to pieces with his bare hands.
Finn’s back to his brooding, calm self when he removes a small liquor bottle from his pocket. He looms over Troy’s unrecognizable face.
“I said,wake up.” From above, Finn empties the miniature vodka bottle on Troy’s face, causing all his lacerations to fizz. The violent sting yanks Troy out of his stupor. My already-twisted stomach knots tighter as Troy writhes against his restraints.
I clamp my mouth shut and stare at my feet to keep the nausea down. This is…horrifying. Troy deserves it, but it’s still a lot.
I make my way back to the den, each step taking me closer to Troy’s mangled form and Finn’s stony gaze.
When Troy sees me coming, he spits blood on my carpet.
His eyes, framed by the split skin and bloody gouges on his face, are even more terrifying. Finn takes the towel and watering can from me.
“Fuck you,” Troy rasps from below us. “Both of you are going to pay.” He rolls his head to one side, glaring at Finn. “For laying a hand on me…consider yourself dead. Andyou.” Hiseyes narrow on me. “After disrespecting me and my family, you didn’t really think I’d let you move on with someone else?—”
I lunge over the coffee table and punch Troy in the face, surprised by my own speed. But there’s a reason bullies sit on top of their already-horizontal victimsbeforepunching them. Naturally, according to the laws of physics, when I throw my fist down at Troy’s face, the rest of me follows, my balance disappearing. I nearly topple onto him.
Finn hooks me around the waist and pulls me against him to keep me from falling. His hard chest against me sends my pulse flying like a frisbee.
“Riley.”
Finn’s low, coarse voice launches a heatwave between my thighs.
I lick my lips. “Yeah?”
“The plan was to interrogate him.”
With great difficulty, I pry my eyes away from Finn long enough to glance at Troy.
Out cold. How hard did I hit him?
As if in answer, pain blossoms through my knuckles, now sticky with vodka and Troy’s blood. I wince, extending and contracting my fingers.
I’m gonna need some ice.
Finn gives me a hard look, his dark eyes broiling my face.
“Troy knows our secret.” My right hand is really starting to throb.