by Brea Viragh
Finn was a guy with a nasty mouth and a foul temper. I could handle one of those. Easily.
Each step lasted a millennium. My feet felt cast in cement. I stood in front of the four wooden panes with my pep talk fading by the minute.
It was time to put up or shut up.
Finn flashed those icy blue eyes to me when I entered the room, then gave me what he probably thought was a shit-eating grin. He sat up in the bed, arms overlapped on his blankets, sporting day-old stubble. The curtains were drawn.
“Well, well.”
He was dressed in the quintessential hospital gown, with no pants and a built-in ventilator in the back. Who in their right mind would be intimidated by a guy in a gown?
Quietly holds her hand up…
I grunted an incoherent response, closing the door with a snick. Locking us in the room together.
“You’re thirsty for more. I get it. The world is made up of all kinds of sickos, although I didn’t take you for a masochist. More like the kind to whip off the ponytail, ditch the glasses, and show me the lingerie underneath. Are you a bad girl?” He laughed, showing nice teeth.
I curled my lip and shook off my nerves along with the light jacket I’d brought. “Oh look, someone taught a pig how to talk. And I thought miracles didn’t happen.”
I’d worked on the comeback for several hours, I was ashamed to admit. Luckily, it fit the conversation.
A calculating glint came into his eyes. Finn followed my every movement while I made myself comfortable. Funny, the first time I’d met him, he hadn’t been able to look at me. Now he couldn’t break eye contact.
Purse and coat went onto the dresser before I took the empty chair near the window. Legs crossed, I tried to project an air of confidence that would make my father proud.
“Maybe you’re not the vapid bitch I thought at first glance,” Finn responded. “Although the bow was a good touch. I think it’s cute you can still fit into your fifth-grade recital shirt. I didn’t realize people still saved those types of outfits.”
“Ha, ha. You are full of fun,” I responded with a loud sigh. “How about we go for a nice walk? We can grab ice cream, my treat.”
Finn scoffed. “Below the belt, Red.”
“It’s River,” I corrected him. “Not sure if you were paying attention before, when I tried to introduce myself. It’s a pretty simple two-syllable name. Not easy to forget.”
“Nah, I’ll stick with Red.” He settled among the mound of pillows, arms at his sides and fingers twitching with repetitive movement. His eyes were closed when he continued with, “Fits you better.”
I fingered a lock of hair, the burnt brown streaked through with hints of auburn from the spring sunlight. One of the benefits of working outside in my aunt’s garden in my free time. “Because of the hair. How original. It’s not red.”
“Because of your attitude.” Finn cracked his knuckles, making a show of each loud pop. It might work on his cronies, cementing his position as dismissive alpha male. For me it was a trick. A lousy one, too.
“You don’t know squat about me. Now that the introductions are out of the way, let’s get down to business.” I brought two slim paperbacks from behind me and held them for his perusal. “Both of these are self-help, and only one makes you not want to stab your ears until they bleed. You pick.”
He quirked a brow. “Russian roulette?”
“Maybe. Oprah said it helps with stress when someone reads to you. I only want to help, so I grabbed these from the library yesterday,” I said. “They came highly recommended by an Internet psychiatrist.”
“Yeah, you want to help. Help me right out the window. Listen, Red, don’t think I’m not appreciative, because I am. You’re the first person since the accident who’s taken the time to talk to me like a human being. But that’s as far as it goes.” Finn settled and closed his eyes once again. Letting me know in no uncertain terms that my presence was neither appreciated nor required.
Like I didn’t have something better to do than babysit.
“If I wanted to gouge out my eardrums, I’d do it myself. I don’t need your help,” he continued.
I tossed one of the books aside at random and cracked the other one. Picking a paragraph in the middle of the page, I read with an affected tone: “When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall? wrote Henry David Thoreau. Experts say when the black mood comes upon you, it’s best to surround oneself with nature. Tune in to the universal energy at the core of all humanity. The thin red string of fate binding us not only to each other, but to nature. Turn to the majesty of the trees—”
“Gag me,” Finn interrupted. He re-situated himself and winced, face paling, lines etched into the skin around his eyes.
I stopped reading. “Are you okay?”
“Stop acting like you give a shit about me,” he hissed. “I know you’re only here because you were forced to be. The mayor’s girlfriend making nice with the poor lower class. There’s no such thing as a good deed anymore. You’re out for yourself, despite the good intentions.”
I wondered how he’d found out I was dating the mayor. News did make its way around to the strangest places—namely, a man who’d been confined to his bed for the better part of my relationship.
“Maybe I’m here because I can’t resist the allure of a person in need,” I countered. “You think about that?”
“Your idea of helping the needy is buying second-hand. Don’t think I can’t smell the polish on you. Your outfit alone must have cost one month’s paycheck for some of the people in this hick town. What is it? Silk?” He cringed and reached a hand down to his knee, rubbing slightly.
To keep myself busy, I stood, crossing to my bag for a bottle of water. Fiddling with the cap took the attention off of me for a moment. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’m pretty good at reading people.”
Caught mid-drink, I struggled to swallow while he watched me. Now it was my turn. “Don’t care.”
Finn let out a bark of laughter. “Playing at being the big dog. Can’t say it sits well on you.”
“What is your problem with me?” I slapped the bottle down with a resounding fwap and crunch of plastic. “I mean, you have no clue who I am or where I come from, and you still insist on being a total jackass.”
“You’re not special, trust me,” he said sharply. “I’m a jackass to everyone. You’re just the latest pity-seeker looking to feel better when you’re around the less fortunate.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Is it?”
“I think you owe me an explanation.”
“Your sense of entitlement is talking,” he retorted.
I jutted my chin forward. “You’re a dick.”
“And you’re a bitch. You don’t see me complaining.”
“All I’ve seen you do is complain. We’re going to see a lot of each other and it’s best if we settle things. You be honest with me, and I’ll give you the same courtesy.”
“Courtesy?” Finn gestured toward the sheet masking his legs. “I’m in a fucking bed with a pair of bum walking sticks. I can’t get up to go to the restroom on my own. I rely on someone else to get me on the toilet so I can wipe my ass. Red, I don’t owe you anything.”
Guilt rushed forward to eagerly color my cheeks. “I don’t mean to imply—”
“I can’t work, I can’t pay my bills, and the state has me set up in here like a no-good deadbeat. Think I have family? Think again, because the only person I have is me.”
“I…I’m sorry.”
There was no stopping him now. Finn raged and blustered as much as a bed-bound man was able. The tips of his ears grew crimson with the exertion of pushing himself upright. Veins popped at his temples and the finger he swung in my direction shook like a dog’s tail.
“I’ve got no momma, daddy, or little baby brother in a wagon. I lost my business. I lost my apartment. I lost everything
I had worked for in my life…and I have nothing to show for it. You might find it hard to believe, but no one gives a damn about me being here. Why should you?”
I listened until the end of his rant spun off into silence. The air was heavy between us, an invisible weight waiting to plummet.
“Are you finished yet?” I asked, finally recognizing the issue. Finn didn’t have a problem with me. He had a problem with himself.
He let out a snort. “I haven’t even begun.”
“Then we’re going to be here all day.”
“Fuck you.”
The expletive floored me. “How about you—”
“I think the fuck you was pretty clear.”
I trembled under the need to lash out. Done with fighting an impossible battle, I released the brunt of my frustration. “Do you think I enjoy this?” The words were tense. Short. Pointless, and a long time coming. “Like I’m some kind of stickler for punishment? I have better things to do with my life than listen to a cripple with a bad-boy complex moan and complain. To take a page out of my father’s book, you can go shit in a hat.”
Again came the noxious laughter. So good to know I amused him. “Oh, can I?” Finn asked.
“You’re damn right.”
It didn’t matter that I’d figured him out, at least partly. I wasn’t going to let him get away with talking to me like I was garbage. If Finn thought he was on a roll before, he hadn’t seen anything yet.
Limbs skittering with nervous energy, I got to my feet and prowled along the walls of the room. “You’re obnoxious and self-centered. Oh, your legs are broken. So what? Millions of people are hurt and maimed and killed every day. Millions more lack the resources to get out of their situations. You have people willing to help you and you would rather spit in their faces than take the offered hand. You know what? I don’t have to be here. There are many other places I’d rather be than stuck in this shithole with you.”
Finn leaned back with increasing restlessness. Feeding on my energy and sending it back to me, chewed up and spat out. “Then why are you here?”
My arms flew overhead. “Because I had no choice.”
He didn’t appreciate my answer. “Red, trust me. Everyone has a choice.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” I threw back.
“Yeah, wanting to bolster your public image is a real hard motive to understand.”
And with his statement, I froze. “What?”
“Ha! The surprised look is priceless. Like I can’t see it on your face? Or hear when the little girl behind the front desk starts jabbering away about the mayor’s girlfriend coming to volunteer?” He mimed picking up a cell phone and holding it to his ear. “Like, oh my god, did you hear about the mayor’s girlfriend? She’s here to take on the charity case. They say she’s a real pill with no people skills. And did you hear what happened to her with the crystal the other day? Too funny!”
His hand dropped, the mock phone call ended.
“I would never—”
Finn interrupted me for the umpteenth time. “I know you. I know your type,” he sneered. “You’re only out for yourself, so give me a break. Go save the world somewhere else if you’re so inclined.”
There was little to say to help my case. Finn was right on the money for the majority of his response. There was no denying how people talked. Odds were good he had overheard June on the phone. Saying the exact words he had mimicked.
The mayor’s girlfriend had become a joke.
Still, I wasn’t done defending my tattered honor. “Trying to be part of a team is a problem for you? Wanting to respect my other half’s wishes is a crime? I want to do everything in my power to help Weston succeed.”
“I never said any of those things,” Finn retorted. “You’re putting your own insecurities on me.”
“You basically said I couldn’t think for myself. And called me a bitch multiple times. Naïve, too, if I recall.” I feigned trying to remember his exact words. “Not touching your last outburst.”
“You are naïve. And I take issue when you’re doing something you don’t care about to kiss someone’s butt. Someone like Weston Brown. Yeah, it’s a problem. By the way, how does the mayor’s ass taste?” White teeth flashed. “I’ve always wondered.”
“I’d care more if I were reading to some old lady. Instead of Mr. I’m-a-naughty-motorcycle-man-who-doesn’t-need-anyone.”
On anyone else the derision would have taken me back a step or two. On Finn, it changed the composition of his face. Brought light to those mischievous eyes. I enjoyed the way his lips curled. I enjoyed the flicker of surprise when he was forced to reassess his opinion. I enjoyed the turning, twisting in my chest. The turning, twisting that dug me a deeper hole.
“You are some kind of lady,” he said at last.
“I can think of a few more things to describe you, but I’ve run over my quota for the day.” I ran my hands along my arms to instill warmth against the sudden chill.
“Like what?” he asked when I didn’t continue.
“You do know how to rile me up.” I shook my head, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Jeez.”
“It’s a gift. I’m glad to know I still have it.”
I had no comeback. For a man content with running his mouth, he’d become pretty close-lipped too. “What do we do now?” I asked to fill the silence.
He paused for a moment. “Now you tell me the truth.”
The truth? I’d spent the last ten minutes dodging his truth bombs and firing back with my own. “I thought you’d figured me out already.”
“You came here to make your boyfriend happy. To help your image. Correct?”
I opened my mouth, closed it again, like a carp on dry land. There was no use in denying the blatantly obvious. “Yes.”
“You don’t like me. Correct?”
Another resounding “Yes.”
“Now…I help you.”
It was my turn to scoff. “You? Help me? Is this a part of your mind game?”
His face broke into a grin. “Absolutely.”
“I admitted I didn’t like you.” Because you don’t need to like someone to want to bone them. Ugh, yuck, what was I thinking?
“Lots of people don’t like me. But I have what you want,” Finn said.
“I want nothing you have to give.” I shook my head until my eyes practically knocked together. “Not in this lifetime.”
“Don’t say something you can’t swallow later. I might make you eat those words.”
I shuddered. More for show than because of the images flashing across my mind. Those where Finn stood strong on both feet, beckoning me with a crook of his finger. Shirt optional.
“Gross. Next.”
His grin widened until it tugged at the corners of his eyes. There were lines there, true, a web fanning toward his temples. It added depth to his face, a character lacking before. I could see how women might fall in his wake. Or why June would describe him as arrogant. He had a certain sense of inherent cockiness.
Given the circumstances, with a haircut and a leather jacket, yes, he would be irresistible. The twinge of lust rising unbidden in my belly was testament.
What kind of sick twisted glutton for punishment was I?
“I can help you improve your social standing. If you’ll let me,” Finn stated.
The way he looked at me caused a low burn behind my ribcage. “I find it hard to believe an outcast like you would have anything useful to offer,” I countered. “I’m sure you know the rumors. Your reputation is shit, shit, shit.”
I hadn’t heard nearly enough for me to back up the rumors, mind you. From the way his smile lessened, I could tell parts and pieces of what I’d heard were not untrue.
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” he stated in an unconscious repetition of my earlier statement.
“I’d like to keep it that way,” I retorted.
“So would I. Since you refuse to go away, then we might as well come to an agreement.”<
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“I don’t like your tone.”
“I don’t like your face.”
Gnawing at the remaining shred of cuticle on my pinkie finger, I chuckled. “Now you sound like a teenager whose momma told him he couldn’t go to the mall because he refused to clean his room.”
“Yeah, sure.” He hadn’t listened to a word. “Hear me out. We can help each other.”
“I thought you’d refused my help.”
He waited a beat, absorbed my baffled irritation, and continued. “If I’m going to be stuck with you, like you said, and you won’t take off your clothes, then we should lay some ground rules. I think we can make this work.”
“You want me to strip for you? You’re sick.” Disgusted, I shoved a hand through my hair and shuffled toward the window. Disgusted and irrationally aroused by the thought.
No. I needed to think about Weston. I had come here because of Weston, for our future together.
“I’m a dude and sometimes we think with our little heads. You should have expected this. I’m talking about a friendly wager, Red.” Finn’s temper had gone and I was once again faced with the steady cool I’d glimpsed on my first day.
“We went from stripping to betting,” I said. “I don’t know where you think you are. This is Virginia, not Atlantic City.”
“You’re a riot,” he said.
I shrugged. “We all have our good days.”
He laced his hands together on his lap. The devil ready to collect my soul for a golden fiddle. “You don’t like me, and I don’t like you. We’ve made that clear. If I help you improve your social standing, then you’ll leave me alone.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll happily lie here and listen to you read whatever books you want until you get bored and move on. No complaining.” He studied me carefully. “I think it’s a pretty sweet agreement.”
Yeah, it was the best idea I’d heard all day. A bright spot on an otherwise bleak horizon. “We need a time limit,” I said. “It can’t be a couple of days, because then I’ll never win.”
“How about two weeks?” Finn supplied.
