Page 41 of The Irish Reaper


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We begin to circle the room as I get closer to the door.

He’s not stupid.

There’s something up Finn’s sleeve that he’s not giving away because he’s baiting me closer to where I want to be.

“C’mon,” he goads me. “Let’s see what you Kincaids got.”

It’s the way he says it that shoots my temper to the top of my rationality.

As if my family is so beneath his that I couldn’t possibly do any harm or gain any ground here.

The lamp launches in the air before I can think better of keeping it handled, and Finn immediately evades it.

Now, I’m left with nothing.

And it doesn’t take long for that notion to register because I’m already spinning on my heel, and he’s already moving.

He’s going to do what he did before.

And that’s pinning me to the door, so I have no room to move or do anything but what he wants.

How he plans to make me suffer.

Surprisingly graceful on my feet, I spin back around again, and this time, I think I shock him again. My elbow cocks back for another blow, and my fist slams into the side of his head.

I expect—or maybe wish—that it knocks him back or out, but it does nothing but stop him for a split second.

Not enough time to even back away a step before Finn’s dark gaze freezes me to my spot.

He doesn’t appear angry or exasperated.

He doesn’t even look slightly bothered as a small trail of blood descends down one of his nostrils.

“My future wife can hit,” he muses as his thumb reaches up to brush away the crimson liquid. “I can’t say that I’m not slightly impressed.”

“Finn, you have to—” He’s on me the moment I speak. Thick fingers wrap around my throat as he hurls me backward.

I almost trip from the force on my injured leg, but Finn’s free arm wraps around my waist to keep me up before my spine hits the wall.

“Is there where you were trying to go?”

I avert my entire face from him which he gives me. I expect him to turn it so I can look at him with his next threat because I know it’s coming.

It’s evident and always present when he’s near.

“My love,” he practically goads me with a light tone. “You summoned me here. Do you want to get it over with and marry me now? Or do you want me to fuck—”

“No,” I leer through my clenched teeth. “I’m not—” Finn’s mouth presses into my cheek, and I cringe in fear at his closeness.

“Youwill,” he argues with a slight growl to his tone. “You will, and you’ll wear my name until I don’t need you anymore. And if you want to fight me every night, Haven…” His wet tongue runs up my flushed skin, and I jerk my head back to get away from him.

Then my temper speaks for me, and I wish it wouldn’t.

My forehead slams into his already injured nose, and he backs up this time. Allowing me the space that I so desperately need from him right now.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he grounds out as if he cares about the throbbing pain currently in my skull. “AndI’mthe only one that gets to hurt you, little bird. You’re never going to fly or get free of me. The best thing for you is to—”

“Don’t try to offer me sound advice when you sound like a complete psycho,” I clip back, stopping myself from rubbing my head. “I don’t listen to crazy people.”

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