Page 107 of Shattered Hearts

Without meeting my gaze, he tangles his fingers with mine once again and leads me toward his living room. Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach. I don’t know how to read hissilence. The only reassurance I have that he’s not angry at me for asking is his warm, gentle hand wrapped around mine.

When we reenter his den, the chaotic way we left things hits me. The last time we stood on this carpet, we were locked in a vicious verbal fight. Everything formerly on his coffee table remains scattered all over the floor. My pillow and blanket lay in a heap by his leather sofa, exactly where Finn discarded them earlier.

Sweltering heat blooms inside me when I recall the way he fucked me afterward. His rough hands, hard thrusts, angry eyes, and commanding words sear my memory. Delicate parts of my body still throb, prompting me to cross one ankle over the other and squeeze my legs closed after Finn comes to a stop on the rug.

My face must be red as a ripe strawberry when Finn turns to me.

“Coffee or tea?”

It takes me too long to realize he’s asking me. “Tea, please. I’d like to sleep eventually.”

He flashes me a gentle smile. “What kind?”

“Peppermint.”

“Sit.” He nods toward his sofa and leaves me here, striding toward his kitchenette in the corner by the window. “I’ll be right back.”

I track his movement, watching him make a cup of coffee and lower a tea kettle to his glistening electric stovetop. Even while doing mundane things, he mesmerizes me. There was a time when I used to daydream about this…what Finn’s like away from the eyes of our world.

How could I have known I’d find him dazzling, whether he was kissing me, dominating me, or offering me a blue mug of steaming peppermint tea?

I know I’m in trouble. More trouble than I’ve ever been in. But somehow, I’m starting to think in trouble is exactly where I want to be if it means I get to have him. Even if just for a little while…

Muttering words of gratitude, I take the mug from Finn, and he lowers himself onto the sofa beside me. He sips black coffee from his mug, his eyes far away.

Emotions skate across his face almost too fast for me to catch. Pain, acceptance, concern, frustration. He resolves none of it before he begins speaking.

“Around five years ago, I was sent on an assignment.” Finn settles his mug on the bare coffee table. “Nothing too exciting. Security detail for a Kings’ associate. He took a few meetings on the family’s behalf at a hotel downtown. While guarding him, we had a run-in with Leo De Luca.”

The name rings a faint bell. “Heir to the De Luca family?”

Finn gives a single nod but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know what the beef was about. To this day, I have no idea. I was outside the meeting room when a bullet came through the door behind me. Four inches to the left, and I would’ve been dead.”

My heart drops at the thought. I try to imagine how I would have reacted three years ago if I’d gotten the news that Finn had died.

The thought dumps ice into my blood. I don’t even want to go there.

I’m tempted to reach for his hand again, but I also want to give him space.

“Me and the other guys on the detail busted in there.” He peers at the leather between us, like a picture of the memory he’s describing sits there. “Our associate and Leo were in an open brawl, and when we all got involved, it turned into a shoot-out. Our associate was killed in the skirmish, among others.Cops and paramedics were called to the hotel. Leo De Luca tried to flee, but I refused to let him run off.”

The bitter regret in Finn’s voice sends a pang through my heart.

“What happened?” My voice gets small when I listen hard.

“I roughed him up. That’s my job. On agoodday. But that day wasn’t a good day. Because,” Finn shakes his head, “the paramedics arrived before the cops. And as the emergency responders fanned out through the hotel, tending to the wounded and the dead, they walked in on me…beating on him.”

Dread layers the pit of my stomach like sand at the bottom of the ocean. My nerves worsen because I know we haven’t reached the worst part of this story yet.

“The first responder who found me on the scene was my wife.”

I swallow too fast and cover my mouth to keep from choking. “Yourwife?”

He nods.

“Your wife was a paramedic?” I try to imagine a woman who drives an ambulance throwing her arms around Finn, but the picture doesn’t come together all the way.

“Brianne wanted to become a doctor.” His eyelids lower whenever he speaks about her. “She worked part-time as an EMT while she was finishing medical school, and that day, on a call…she found me.”

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