Page 60 of Destroy Me
Deacon’s protest was echoed by Mack, but Lyse zeroed in on Fionn, ignoring the other two. Intensity shone from her eyes, burning into him, slamming his mouth shut when he normally would’ve shot down the idea as ridiculous. Deacon and Mack were stumbling over each other in their objections, but Lyse didn’t answer. She didn’t look away, and he found he couldn’t either.
“Gentlemen,” he finally said, cutting them off, “could you be waiting in the hall?”
The words broke the moment, and Lyse’s gaze dropped to the hands twisting together in her lap.
He waited for the door to close behind Deacon, who gave him an unreadable look through the narrowing space, then clicked it shut. Fionn took a deep, calming breath.
It didn’t help.
“Fionn.” Lyse looked up again, and he could see her fear, her need to help. Sometimes he wondered if Lyse hadn’t come to love his mam almost as much as he and Mack did. “I’m going with you. Think about it—you can’t search the entire house and grounds on your own. The acreage alone… You need the extra set of eyes. And you need me to monitor Ferrina’s response. His movements. Send the second message. Keep up communications with the team. I can do all of that from anywhere on the estate. We’ll know where the gold is, where you need to meet by then. I’ll stay far away from any fighting.”
Damn right she would.
She stood, easing closer as if he was a wild animal she needed to tame. “I can help you.”
He stood for a few minutes, arms crossed over his chest, thumb stroking the rough stubble on his chin over and over. Thinking. Weighing the odds. She was right, in a way. If things went as they expected, there would be time to move Lyse well before the meet up. But when do things ever go as expected?
And yet he found he was wantin’ her with him. Something deep inside ached at the thought of leaving her behind. Was that what he’d have to do when this was all over, leave her behind? His original intent had been to bring her back to the States for prosecution, but now… He stared into the deep, pleading well of her hazel eyes. Now he knew what it was to hold her, to have her beneath him. He knew what it was to share his very breath with her.
And he knew that, when the time came, when this was all over, he would be letting her go. His heart couldn’t take the thought of anything else.
His heart. That’s what she was.
He opened his arms. Lyse flew into them, her impact rocking him on his heels even as he pulled her close to the warmth of his body. She was so slight against him, yet too strong for him to break, in bed or out of it. She was unique. His.
He clenched his jaw, determined to keep the feelings inside, to keep focus on the mission. One thing he did know, though—if this ended tomorrow, as they all hoped it would, then tonight was his last night with Lyse. The last night before he let her disappear. Now that the moment was here, it settled like a chain around his neck, choking him, hurting him, refusing to let him live past it. He needed her like he’d never needed another woman, and he didn’t know how he was going to keep breathing when it was all said and done and he watched her walk away.
And no matter how much his mind told him not to put her in danger, his heart needed the chance to say goodbye. To be whole for just a little longer before half of it was torn out and left him behind.
“All right,” he said into the sweet pile of hair on top of her head. “Get packed.”
Lyse ripped herself away and rushed out the door, leaving two men staring from the hall, their accusing gazes telling him he’d just lost his mind. He stared right back. “I’ll make sure she’s safely away before Ferrina shows up.”
Deacon just shook his head. Mack glared a little longer, but Fionn could also see understanding in his eyes, however reluctant.
“We need to get packed too,” Mack finally said. “Any word from your friend on the Continent?”
“Yeah.” He moved to join the men in the hall. “He’ll be there.” Fionn never trusted anyone but his team, but in this case, the incentive for the man to show up was strong. “Let’s be moving out.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Siobhan cried when they left. The sight of the woman Lyse had come to care about hugging her son, face red with tears, had been like a kick to the gut. She wanted to promise that Fionn would come back safe, that everything would be fine, but she knew better than most that there were no guarantees. So she’d stood back and watched the two of them silently before getting in the car with Fionn and driving away.
That had been a half hour ago. Fionn hadn’t spoken since.
She felt like she was walking a tightrope, not sure if the next step, the next breath, would be the one sending her over a hundred-yard drop. But she wanted to take that step, to reach out to him in some way, however small. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she laid her palm carefully over Fionn’s fisted hand on the console between them.
He threw her a look. She was relieved to see it was one of surprise and not anger. Some men didn’t like their emotions acknowledged. Her foster father had been like that, but Fionn seemed okay with it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothin’ for you to be sorry about, love.”
A literal melting sensation went through her when he called her that. How could one word have so much power over her?
“Not sorry as in ‘I did something wrong.’ Just”—she shrugged, tightening her grip on Fionn’s hand—“upset that something hurts you.”
Silence fell between them again. It stretched the limits of her nerves, her courage, but she refused to let it win. “I guess there are some things I need to say I’m sorry for, things I did wrong that need to be made right.” Things that, through all the sex and fighting and tenderness, they hadn’t brought up.
