; “That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

I stared at the ground, shuffling the pebbles from our path to give my feet something to do. I heard her huff and I looked up at her. She was doing that thing again where she wrapped her arms around herself like she needed a hug but knew she’d get nothing from me, so she took care of herself. I didn’t like that. It made me feel guilty for being such an emotional fuck-up. So, I decided to give her something else to loosen the frown lines on her face.

“I’ve been working on a new piece at the asylum chapel. I thought maybe you’d like to come and see it one day?”

The asylum chapel was an abandoned building in Sandland that Ryan had claimed for himself. I knew it held a special meaning for him and Emily, but for some reason, he’d let me use it too. He was quite happy to let me loose with my imagination, to turn the drab grey, flaking plaster on the old walls into something magical, mythical, ethereal.

Watching her face light up, I knew my words had done the trick. Straight away her shoulders dropped and she smiled a full, genuine smile that made my stomach flip over.

“I’d love to. I love your art.”

She meant it too. Every time I saw her when I was working, she’d look at my art like it was something that’d come from heaven above just to make the world a better place. She’d listen to me when I told her what’d inspired me, and take it all in, letting my work affect her in a way most artists can only dream of. It was as if it touched her on a deeper level, a level similar to my own. That was one of the many reasons I loved this girl. She saw me even when I was trying to hide.

“It’s a bit darker than my other stuff, but I think you’ll get it.”

You always do.

“I think I will too.” She nodded and started to kick the stones on the path like I’d done only moments ago.

“I was kind of going for a dystopian fairy tale. A whole twisted Alice in Wonderland. Not Wonderland though.” My words made her snort out a laugh.

“God forbid.”

“I like to make art with an edge.” I grinned, knowing I didn’t need to explain that to her. This was the girl who said my industrial wasteland graffiti, with spiked flowers, mechanical trees and a dark, desolate landscape was awe-inspiring. She’d see the positive in anything.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. I like your edge.”

Just then, a gust of wind blew her hair up, covering her face and making her struggle to get it under control. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching forward to help her, tucking stray strands behind her ears. Feeling my touch, she froze, and I could tell she was holding her breath. The way her eyes shone with longing, glancing up at me through her long lashes, made me brush my thumb gently down her left cheek. Her skin was as soft as velvet and I took a step forward. I wanted to know if her lips were that soft too. Would she taste as good as I’d imagined? Better probably.

“Well, well… What do we have here? Has little Finn got himself a girlfriend?”

I stopped.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention and the yearning I’d felt only moments ago was replaced by total and utter revulsion.

What the fuck was he doing here?

I dropped my hand from Effy’s cheek and glared over her shoulder at the devil who lurked behind her. Was he destined to destroy everything for me? For a split second, I had a glimpse of what a normal life could be like. The girl, the feelings, the kiss. But no. I couldn’t have that, could I? Not when he was hell-bent on maintaining my place in the pit of despair he wanted me to frequent for all eternity.

He stood at the gate, dominating everything with his presence and turning what was a perfect moment into something twisted and vile. As always, he haunted me like a fucking demon. He always would. But I’d be damned if I let him within an inch of my Effy.

The moment Finn heard the voice coming from behind me, he froze and then backed away like I’d given him an electric shock. Fear and tension rolled off of him in waves, and I knew whoever stood at the foot of the path was bad news. Finn was always nervous and guarded, but not like this. This was another level of terror and alarm in the many facets that made up Finn Knowles.

One minute, he was brushing my hair out of my face, and I felt sure he was about to kiss me. The way he’d stroked my cheek felt so intimate, so tender, that I couldn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach from flying free and taking control of every part of me. But then that husky, gravelled voice had broken through our moment like a hammer crashing down and breaking the already thin ice of our relationship. And now, the Finn my soul had wrapped itself around only moments ago was locked away behind those high walls of his. Walls that felt impenetrable to a five-foot-four clumsy girl like me who was scared of heights. Who was I kidding? I liked a challenge, and if I had to climb Mount Everest to help him, I would.

In spite of Finn’s adverse reaction, I turned around and smiled at the unwelcome visitor. He was tall and so well-built that the buttons on his thick overcoat were bursting at the seams, trying to break free. His face was ruddy from the cold, and his dark hair was slicked back and greying slightly at his temples. If he had a dog by the side of him, which he didn’t, I’d have imagined a British bulldog called Bullseye standing faithful to his master with a string for a lead. In short, he did not look friendly. His eyes crinkled with wicked intent and his smile was crooked and insincere. I went to hold my hand out and introduce myself to him, but Finn cut me off.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” His words dripped with venom and harsh brutality, taking me from elated to gutted in a nanosecond. “She was here to see Alice, but Alice is gone. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

I dropped my hand before this man could take it in his and glanced back to where Finn stood, furrowing my brow in confusion.

What was going on?

I could sense Finn was agitated, panicked even, but why was he letting this man have such an effect on him?

Tags: Nikki J. Summers Rebels of Sandland Romance
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