Page 124 of Inflict

Evelyn’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand, Connor.”

“You do, you understand perfectly well. You don’t have to wait for me by the door, like some lost puppy dog who misses their owner. You know this.”

“Sure, but—”

“It’s comfortable,” he interrupted smoothly. “It took me a bit—because I’m a feckin’ dumb shite—but I get it, now. When you’re not doing well in here …” He pointed to her head, and then waved his finger around them, adding, “That’s when you revert back to doing nonsense like this, because you understand it, and it’s a way to control. Will you tell me I’m wrong?”

Evelyn blinked, her frown growing more prominent. “I just … this is easier, Connor.”

He shook his head. “I don’t give a feck about easy, love. This isn’t supposed to be easy, all right? It’s going to take work. I don’t own you, and you need to stop behaving like I do. Figure out who you want to be, Evelyn, because you’ve got all the time in the world now. So, who is it going to be, the slave or the free woman?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right—I don’t. But you don’t explain, either.”

Evelyn wet her lips, and blew out a soft breath. “You’re gone a lot lately.”

“I can’t help that right now, Evelyn. I made a mess, and I have to clean it up before it gets worse.”

Understatement of the year.

“But,” he added just as fast, “that doesn’t mean you need to revolve around me and my nonsense like it’s the only thing you’ve got to keep you going. I already told you that I don’t own you, lass. You can be mine, but it’s not the same.”

Evelyn glanced down at her hands, refusing to meet his gaze again. “What if I don’t know how to do that, Connor?”

“Then I suppose it’s time to learn. And you’ve got lots of time.”

If she asked him to help, then he would.

If she wanted to do it alone, he would understand.

Connor just needed Evelyn to figure it out.

He couldn’t do that for her.

• • •

Connor found Evelyn in the kitchen when he finally got back to the brownstone a hell of a lot later than he expected to be home on a Saturday night. Whether he liked it or not, he was getting to the point where he knew living in Brooklyn was not going to be manageable while being a boss.

He didn’t want to move, but traveling back and forth to Jersey day in and day out to take care of business and handle the nonsense of men was eating precious hours out of every day. Hours he would much rather spend with Evelyn, though she seemed to be slightly better since their talk earlier in the week.

Looks were also deceiving.

He heard noise in the kitchen, and thought maybe she was trying to cook—not that she knew how to, apparently—or cleaning. Although, he didn’t expect her to do that, either.

Instead, what he found was … none of those things.

“What …” Connor’s brow furrowed as he stared at the image taking shape on the wall. “What in the feck are you doing, lass?”

Evelyn didn’t even turn around. “Making something.”

“Drawing, you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“On the wall,” Connor muttered.

“Yeah.”