Locked Hearts (Chained Hearts Duet 2)

Piper nods and Joey goes straight to the car.

The café ignites, and not long later Romarc’s screams stop.

Dead.

Exactly as he should have been from the beginning—I was too lenient with him.

“You think Paige is okay?” Piper asks.

“I have no doubt she is,” I reply.

That woman is as resilient as a rat in a plague.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sailor

Getting past Phillip is not as easy as I had hoped it would be. Especially now with a baby, it makes the job even harder.

“Phillip!” I scream his name.

I’m sitting on Keir’s toilet. It took me a while to work out my plan. Granted, I don’t have the whole plan figured out yet, but I know what guys hate most, and I plan to use that to my advantage. “Phillip!”

He rushes in, and as soon as he sees me, his gaze drops to the floor, and he turns his head away.

“Gosh, what took you so long?” I whine. “I need you to get something for me.” He nods, not looking my way. “I need tampons, Phillip. Now. Pronto.”

“I can send someone—”

“I need them now. Everyone else is out. Phillip, here, take this.” His hand reaches out and he yelps when he sees what I’ve placed in it. His eyes go wide, and he runs to the sink and turns it on.

“I’m heavy, and I need them. I can’t feed Wren if I can’t move. Please, Phillip.”

‘He nods, washing his hands thoroughly to get the fake blood off. I googled how to make fake blood, and it turns out Keir’s chefs have almost everything I needed—corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food coloring. He washes his hands for far too long before he dries them and backs out of the bathroom. “What about the money?”

His eyes fall to the ten-dollar bill on the floor, and he shivers. “I’ll pay.” And he’s gone.

“Hurry. I can’t move until I get one,” I yell after him.

Giggling internally, I hear the pounding of his feet as he runs, so I get up and tiptoe to the bedroom door until I hear the front door shut and the car start. Quickly pulling out Wren’s and my bags from under the bed, I grab her and hurry to the door, but my path is blocked.

“Where are you going, sweetheart?”

I look up at Keir and sigh. He has splatters of blood on his face, and Joey and Piper are standing on either side of him. His eyes flick to the bags, then to Wren. He reaches for her, and I let him take her straight back to his room. I follow along behind them. He places her in the crib, and I shake my head, angry at him for ruining my getaway. He needs to learn that he can’t control me like this.

“Seems you’re not in need of tampons, after all.” He grins humorlessly. “Poor Phillip, he looked horrified as he got into the car.”

I cross my arms over my chest while listening to him, then I storm out of the room because I’m so mad I don’t even want to look at Keir right now. I feel him behind me, so I spin around, and he locks eyes with me.

“Stop. Following. Me. Why are you following me?”

“You know why.” He smirks, and then in the next moment, he has my face in his hands and my mouth sealed to his. Then he lifts me up and breaks our kiss. “Let’s see how much you are actually bleeding because blood’s never bothered me, lollipop.” I try to push him away and drop my legs, but his hands are there, holding me tight, and I know I’m not going anywhere. He carries me until we get to his room. “Joey,” he calls, and I try to get down, but he refuses to let me go.

Joey pops his head in the room, and Keir nods to Wren. “Take her out and play with her. Her toys are in the living room.”

“Really?” he scoffs out but he reaches for Wren. His eyes flick to us and he shakes his head before he leaves, taking Wren with him.

Keir continues to carry me until we reach the bathroom and then he puts me down. He pulls his shirt off and then drops his pants, giving me a heated look. “Remove your damn clothes.”

“No,” I say, a fake smirk on my face. I try to leave, but his hand snakes around my waist and he pulls me back in.

Keir yanks at my shirt and pops all the buttons. I gasp, and he just continues to tear at my clothes like a caveman, ripping my skirt too. When Keir gets to my underwear, he tears at them, and with absolutely no shame inspects the scrap of fabric.

Then those dark eyes lock on mine and he says, “I see no blood.”

“No blood.”

“What did you use?” he asks curiously.