Page 133 of Inflict

Connor’s only moments of peace came when he was home, in his brownstone, locked away from the world and the men and the nonstop phone calls. Where he could take off the suit jackets he hated, roll up his sleeves, and get lost in a rainbow of colors with Evelyn nearby.

If heaven existed, that was it for Connor.

“What is it?” Connor asked.

Evelyn leaned in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her middle, though she looked swallowed whole in that oversized sweater of his she was wearing. “I need to do something, Connor.”

He tipped his head to the side, confused. “All right. Do what, exactly?”

“I’m not sure … I mean, I know, but I’m not sure you’ll be okay with it. Except, it doesn’t matter if you are okay with it or not, I have to do it now that I can, and I have the chance, because I made a promise.”

Connor didn’t like the sound of any of that at all. “You’re not making any sense, lass.”

Evelyn released a shaky sigh, and when she looked at him again, something frightening stared back at him. Connor thought he’d chased away all her monsters—everything that might hurt her, or take her from him again, he’d put them in a grave one by one. It was just him and her left, now, and they could be together, crazy if they needed, quiet if they wanted, but together.

The look on her face, sadness churned with fear, told him he was wrong.

So wrong.

“Evelyn?”

“Please don’t be mad at me, Connor,” she whispered.

“I’m not—I could never be, love.”

He didn’t get the chance to reassure her with more words before she was moving into the room, crossing the space between the door and his desk, and then resting down at his feet. There, she bent down on her knees, her head lying in his lap, and her hands tangling into his slacks as if to keep them both still.

Connor didn’t understand what was happening, he didn’t know why his usually unemotional, yet happy, lover was suddenly the exact opposite from her normal self. He wanted to push her, to demand she answer his questions if she was so determined something was wrong between them, but instead, he didn’t.

Instead, he stroked her hair, her cheeks, and her back. He let his fingertips glide overtop of the tip of the multi-colored feather of one of her tattooed wings that peeked out of the top of her shirt. He felt her trembling, saw the glimmer of wetness that slid from the corner of her eye before she wiped it away, and he stayed silent.

Because he just didn’t know what to say.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Evelyn repeated. “Not today, tonight, or tomorrow. It’ll be okay, I just can’t tell you when or why.”

“Of course, it’ll be fine,” Connor said, pulling Evelyn up from her knees to make her sit in his lap. There, he was able to make her look at him while he spoke, and she could know each word he said was the absolute truth. He kissed her once, then twice, holding her face in his hands and keeping her still. “Whatever it is, it’ll be grand, love.”

“Keep that in mind when you don’t feel the same as you do right now, okay?”

Connor chuckled, though it came out hollow and dry.

He wanted to agree.

But her voice shook too much.

Her eyes still reflected pain.

She was going to hurt him, he realized.

She just wasn’t going to tell him how.

Connor learned exactly how Evelyn would hurt him by the time morning rolled around, and he woke up alone in bed, without her. At first, he thought she was somewhere in the brownstone, even though she never got out of their bed before he had woken up, too. So, he didn’t panic, at first. He showered, got dressed, and then went looking through silent halls and empty rooms for someone he already knew was gone, but didn’t want to admit it.

In his office, money was missing.

In the closet, a bag was gone.

In her dresser, clothes were emptied out.