Chained Hands (Chained Hearts Duet 1)

The apartment has a large open-plan style kitchen, dining, living room area. The apartment is cool, classic, and sophisticated with its Hamptons-style beach vibes. Chic blues, off-whites, and paneled walls complement the timber flooring. The lighting is soft and modern. The kitchen has an island bench, a dishwasher, and all the modern appliances you could ever need.

The bedrooms are off to the side, and each has its own en suite bathroom, which is decorated beautifully. Honestly, I can’t wait to plop down on the gorgeous king-size bed, with its high sides and pillows everywhere.

The only problem I see is I will need to get a second job in order to save as much as possible, so when my time here is up, I can afford to stay on and continue to rent at the high price tag it would normally bring.

Joey helped me to move in, grunting as he went.

I didn’t see Keir, and my parents are thankful for that. They don’t like him at all. I don’t like him either. I think.

I haven’t seen either Keir or Joey for over a week now. After Joey helped me move in, that was it. He doesn’t follow me anymore, and when I go out, he isn’t there, so all good.

No one is around now, it’s just me.

My parents left to keep on traveling, and Ellie moved in with a friend—didn’t even know she had one of those. Took a while to get her out. She insisted when I first moved that she stay with me. I declined.

Grabbing my bag, I pull the strap up and head toward the door. I have two job interviews today, and I’m hoping and praying I get one of them. It isn’t much, but it’s a start in the right direction.

When I pull the door open, Keir’s standing there, fist raised ready to knock. He looks good, dressed as usual in his suit and a face of stone to match.

Everything is business to this man. Typical.

“Keir.” I say his name with a soft smile, not wanting to be rude. I shouldn’t be seeing him, he’s got his money, and that should be the last of our interactions.

“You going out?”

“Interview, actually. Just leaving now so I’m not late,” I tell him, adjusting my bag strap a little higher on my shoulder.

“Interview? What for? You already have a job.”

Stepping past him, I shut the door and make sure to lock it. “It’s only me now, and I like it here, so I would like to be able to afford to stay after the year is up.”

“Oh, yes, Joey mentioned your agreement.”

I turn back to him. It feels like the first real conversation I’ve had with him. The others all felt demanding—him demanding and me pushing back most of the time.

“Yeah, so I’m going to get another job. Hopefully, then I can have enough saved to be able to live here for another year.”

He steps to the side so I can move, and I head to the elevator. When the door opens, he gets in with me, then I push the lobby button.

“Why are you here?” I don’t look at him as I ask. I’ve discovered I am terrible around him—he, without a doubt, can make my legs spread without me taking one drink.

“I’m having a party for Joey, and he asked that I invite you. It’s in a month’s time.”

Oh, wow.

“I didn’t realize he liked me,” I state, confused. Usually, he grunts or nods at my words and then walks out. I don’t think he’s ever said a full sentence to me.

“Joey is … complicated.”

“Must run in the family.” I smirk as we get out of the elevator.

He chuckles next to me. “Yes, it does.” I pull my jacket tighter as we step outside, it’s crisp and the last thing I need is to get sick. “But you didn’t answer.”

His car is parked at the curb and so I stop and ask, “Do you really want me there? I mean, we’re done, right? I paid you back. I don’t owe you anything?” I clarify.

“Correct.” His nod is clipped, and his lips are thinned when he answers.

“So, why are you asking?” I stare at him.

Keir does not like people, that much has been obvious since I met him.

Well, since he kidnapped me.

Or whatever.

“Joey asked.”

I shake my head at his words.

“If that’s the best you can give me.” I turn and start walking away having had enough of this conversation or lack thereof.

“I want you there. It’s better when you’re there,” he says gruffly, making my heels stop on the pavement. I turn back to look at him, my hair whipping me in the face from the cool breeze as I smile.

“You killed my husband, Keir.” My smile drops. “He’s been dead less than two weeks. Stay away from me.”

Then my feet manage to move.