Shackled Hearts (Chained Hearts Duet 4)

“Get in the car… please. I need to get you both checked out.” Looking back to the car, I shiver as the cold air assaults me. When I turn back to Lucas, I glance at his trousers before locking my eyes to his.

“Give me your gun, and I’ll get in.”

He wants to say no.

I can see it written all over his face.

But if he doesn’t give me that gun, I will be going absolutely nowhere with him. Not a hope in hell.

“No one touches my gun,” he states plainly.

“Well, guess I’m not getting in that car with you then,” I tell him and try to move around him, but he sidesteps me and blocks my path yet again. “Move, Lucas. I am not getting in that car with you ever again unless I have a weapon. And right now, I want it to be your gun.”

“No one touches my gun,” he repeats, his gaze boring into mine, willing me to concede.

“Fucking move, then.” This time I push around him, and he lets me. I take a few steps before he’s back in front of me with his gun in hand. He isn’t looking at me, though. He’s looking at his gun.

“I’ve killed for less.” He holds the weapon out for me to take.

“Big bad Lucas,” I say with another eye roll.

“Do you want the gun or not?” he growls out.

With one hand, I take it from him, and he heads back to the car. I contemplate lifting it, shooting him in the back of the head, then stealing his car, but I am unsure if I would be remorseful at all with my actions.

But right now, he has a doctor, and doctors here are hell expensive.

“Even think about shooting me, I’ll kill your brother.” He opens the passenger door for me, and I walk over and climb in as he hovers. “You smell…” he comments as I get in, then he shuts the door behind me without finishing.

Or does he actually mean I smell?

Of course, I fucking smell.

I’ve been trapped in some asshole’s house for two days without a shower.

The dickhead.

Lucas starts the car, and I turn to the back seat. Brody is trying to calm a crying Merci, who’s in obvious agony as she lies across the seat. Facing Lucas again, I hold his gun up and aim at him.

“If you pull that trigger, we all die,” he grumbles.

“I’m not that stupid,” I tell him, then smirk. “I would at least wait until you come to a full stop.”

His head turns toward me, and those eyes that haunt and are in my fantasies lock on to mine. “You would be wise not to do that.”

“Why? What’s the worst you can do? Give me to your father again?” I laugh, throwing my head back. It hurts, but I don’t let him see the agony on my face.

“That was an error in judgment.”

“No takebacks, Lucas,” I say.

This man thinks he can just say it was an error, and I will what? Forgive him?

Yeah, how about hell to the fucking no.

That will never happen.

“When I look at you now, I see him. That’s disgusting to me on so many levels.”