The Burnt Heart (Toxic Hearts Book 1)

by Mae Pierce

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here within the next half hour.” I noted Jesse and even Logan had followed me down and were staring at me wordlessly. I heard Jesse sigh and thump his fist on the door frame. “No, princess, you stay here, we’ll go somewhere else,” he insisted, and I leveled a scathing glare at him. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your princess. I’m your fat girlfriend who you’re tired of sharing, right?” As I moved to my lingerie, I was pleased to hear their chorus of chokes.

There was a reason Adelaide was the queen of the Greenich Bay underworld. She forgot no transgression. She hadn’t cried because she wasn’t mourning, she was plotting how to destroy us. I would let her crush me beneath her boot, beg her for it even. But I wouldn’t let her go.

Siren,” Logan demanded, and I narrowed my eyes. “I’m yours, body, soul, heart. If it takes the rest of my life, I’ll prove it to you. Nothing is worth losing you.”

Someone shot at me tonight. Now they were leaving possibly bloody packages on my doorstep. Nobody threatened Adelaide Orazio. They were about to find out why.

“If you and I were socks, we’d make a magnificent pair,” he countered, chest puffing up. A chorus of low groans sounded from behind me. “Please god, tell me you didn’t just use that line on the absolute goddess sitting in front of you?” My mouth fell open as Jesse, Logan and Briar circled the table, glares pinned on my date.

“Oh siren, that was nothing but a red flag to a bull. Three of them, in fact. We accepted the dates with Ray because we all knew they weren’t real. But that guy? You would chew him up and spit him out in seconds. Just look at how he ran the second someone used a tone on him. No, you need more than a clean-cut gentleman. You need three men who can take everything you throw at them and give it back double. If we have to scare off every date who tries to take what’s ours, we will.”

I shook my head, trying to dispel them, when Logan chanced a worried glance. “Did I say you could look at me?” I snapped, exhaling sharply. “Sorry siren.” He was provoking me. But it worked. Stale scent of plants drifted in, my other senses turning back on. “Who am I?” I walked over to a cleaning cloth and tore it into a thin strip. “Master.” Excitement shot through me at his soft tone. He was steadfastly staring at the ground, like the good boy he was.

“I worked out what it is about you.” He cupped my cheeks with roughened hands. “You’re a siren. Designed to destroy men with your beauty, your intelligence, your spirit. I can understand why men used to throw themselves overboard.”

“I will continue doing the work, siren. I’m never losing you again.” “Not even to see the world?” Just once more, I asked. “There is no place in the world that can rival the universe I see in your eyes,” he whispered, and I melted.

Love without secrets, without sacrifices. Love was risking. Hurting. Healing. Hoping.