by Brea Viragh
“You’re going to tell me what to see, Price?” It was a snarl more befitting a wild animal than a former mayor. “What I see is a wonderful woman being drawn into your snare.” Weston shot me a blank look. His eyes were disturbed. He saw me as someone he couldn’t possibly understand. Someone who was no longer worth his time. “I left you, and this is who you choose to spend your time with? This scum?”
“How dare you—”
Finn cut me off by stepping away, keeping a hand in front of my chest. “Ros, don’t get involved.”
A sensible woman would have listened to his advice and paid attention to the storm clouds brewing between the two men. A sensible woman would have called for help to keep the fight from happening. A sensible woman wouldn’t have gotten in the middle of this nonsense in the first place.
I never said I was sensible.
“Please, Finn, don’t do this.” I grabbed hold of his arm, fingernails digging into the softness of his jacket. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re still healing.”
“What a laugh. You’re worried about him?” Weston pointed, his shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle. “This piece of shit? I told you to watch your back with him and what did you do? Jumped right into his bed. I should have known better.”
His insult had a veil of red sliding neatly over my vision. “I’m not your sister. And I’m not your problem anymore.”
If Weston was surprised by my knowledge, he showed nothing. The politician’s guise slipped neatly over his face. “No, but it seems you and she share the same silly mindset. People like you need protection from yourself.”
“Like hell I do!” I exclaimed. Finn kept his hold on me.
“River, come here.” Weston shoved up his sleeve before holding out his hand. “Don’t embroil yourself in this nonsense. You’re an intelligent woman.”
Which one was I—silly or intelligent? He didn’t know, and neither did I. Finn vibrated in front of me, his body filled with adrenaline. I tightened my grip on his arm until we became a single and immovable statue.
“You want to watch how you talk to her,” Finn began. “I won’t stand for your insults.”
“Like I’ll listen to you.”
“Please don’t do this. Finn,” I pleaded, “I know what’s about to happen and I’m begging you.”
He spared a moment to capture my gaze before smiling. “This has been a long time coming.”
The moment Finn shifted, Weston let his fist fly. Connecting. Flesh meeting flesh in a move almost faster than I could follow.
“Finn!”
He stumbled into the wall. Instead of backing down, the shaking in his legs fueled his anger. “You think you’re a big man? Huh?” He put those legs to work and barreled forward, his head slamming into Weston’s chest.
The two men tumbled and rammed into a chair. The legs shattered under their combined weight, Weston and Finn crashing to the floor among the splinters.
I screamed before I came to my senses. “Stop it! Stop it right now! You’re not children, you’re almost middle-aged!”
Weston was right. I’m definitely silly, I thought as I dove into the fray.
I grabbed Weston’s arm a moment before he could land a second punch to Finn’s face. He shook me off easily, as if I were a mosquito trying to stop a horse.
“You son of a bitch,” Weston growled. “You slept with my sister. You got her pregnant. And now my girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend!” I yelled, pushing against him.
“Stay out of this, River,” Finn demanded.
I wanted to help him before Weston did any serious damage. There was nothing I could do. Finn rammed his knee into Weston’s kidney. Weston let out a yelp and retaliated with a fist to Finn’s left eye. I was knocked aside in the process.
People began to file in from the other room while the two grappled. June gasped when she saw the melee and moved to my side.
Weston had Finn on his back, hands around the other man’s neck and squeezing down.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped onto Weston’s shoulders, my fists pounding against his head. “You let him go. Let him go right now,” I said through gritted teeth.
At last Weston noticed our audience. He stood abruptly and I lost my balance and dropped to the floor. Finn let out a string of choking coughs. I crawled to him, cradling his head on my lap. Smoothing a hand over his forehead while he fought to breathe.
“There’s nothing to see here,” Weston assured the crowd.
“Are you okay?” I murmured to Finn.
He glanced up at me through bloodshot eyes. “Ros…”
Weston stood to his full height and smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket. “There is nothing to see here,” he repeated. “Please, everyone, go on about your business. This is a celebration, right? You should all be enjoying the party.”
He couldn’t stand to look like the bad guy. Needing order, control, a sense of accomplishment. Which, in this case, was clearly lacking.
Finn spoke with blood dripping from a split lip. “Sure, a celebration. Enjoy the party.”
“Get out of here, Weston.” I didn’t look up from Finn. “You’re not welcome.”
“I’m sure the rest of these fine people beg to differ.” He flashed a smile at the crowd. “These are my friends and colleagues, in case you’ve forgotten. I’ve been their mayor for years.”
“I believe you’ve tendered your resignation,” June retorted. “Off for greener fields. I think it would be best if you left. You’ve done enough damage.”
Weston didn’t seem to hear her. He stood a moment longer, adjusting his jacket and smiling the you-can-trust-me grin of a seasoned bureaucrat. “I believe this fundraiser was made possible because of my former office.”
“Actually…” Mark stepped forward. “It was Miss Shayne’s idea. She is the one who put this together. She needed little help from us.”
Weston directed his attention to me, his gaze appraising. Reevaluating. I wasn’t the woman who needed an image makeover. I was a contender, a fighter. A woman who didn’t know love until it bit her in the ass.
“Go back to your precious senate seat in Florida,” I murmured. “I’m sure the hot air will agree with you.”
Weston stayed silent a moment longer before reaching up to adjust the lapels of his jacket for the gazillionth time. “Well, I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“You’re damn right,” June put in.
He realized there was nothing left to say. Weston spared a second glance around at the small crowd before tipping his head toward me, a final farewell, and walking out the door. Out of my life forever.
My attention shifted when Finn stirred in my arms, wanting to sit up. I carefully helped him onto his rear, providing a steady hand when he struggled to his feet.
“Careful. Don’t go so fast.”
“Like you said, I’m a grown man approaching middle-age. I can handle myself.” There was the signature smile, this time accompanied by a swell of pain when his lip dripped blood on his dress shirt.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ve gotten the shit kicked out of me before.” He used his free hand to sweep my hairline, down to my exposed shoulder and the bruise forming there. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” I placed a kiss on his forehead. “Seems like you’re worse off than I am.”
“I’ll heal.”
The crowd dispersed with Weston’s exit, save for June. She stood in the doorway shuffling from foot to foot.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said to Finn.
“And miss your party? No, you stay, Ros. I’ll go.”
“You shouldn’t get on your bike alone. You might get light-headed and fall off. Have another accident.”
“Thanks for your concern,” he insisted, “but I’ll be fine.”
I could tell he was feeling the hurt and not just to his body. Also to his dignity, at having lost to Weston a second time. He would never see this as a vict
ory, not when he was on the floor while the other man walked away. Nothing I could say would convince him otherwise.
June helped me to my feet and, with the briefest sendoff, we watched Finn exit the building.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Finn came to the top of the porch stairs and watched me walk forward. “You got here quickly.”
My heart somersaulted in my chest in the awkward way it did whenever I saw him. Out of bed. Virile. Mobile. Handsome and tall and straight, with a hint of danger around the edges.
He’d wanted me to come to his studio apartment. He’d never invited me over before. Four days after the incident with Weston, and we hadn’t spoken beyond a two-word text telling me to come here accompanied by the address. I went because he asked me to, because I had no choice but to go to him. I was done fighting my feelings. Nothing was ever accomplished without risk. That’s what I accepted as my new motto.
“You asked, so I came.”
He held out a hand and I took it, following behind him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He spared a look over his shoulder at me. “You look—”
“I haven’t been able to sleep.” I must look the part if it warranted a comment. There were shadows beneath my eyes and redness at the rims. “I look like a pile of shit, don’t I?”
“But a cute pile of shit.”
He smiled a little, drawing me into the comfort of his arms the moment we reached the living room. A room that, I realized, was waiting for someone to make an imprint. In all the time Finn had lived here, since his release from the rehab house, he hadn’t marked it as his. A simple loveseat defined the room and made the only distinction between spaces.
“I had a phone call earlier,” he began.
“What about?”
“A job.”
I started, twisting to meet his eyes. “Great!”
“Seems like the opportunity is a good one. Just not here.” His voice was rusty. He couldn’t look at me. “I’m packing a few miscellaneous items. At least I intended to, but turns out I don’t own jack.”
“Packing?” I echoed.
Finn moved away from me, each stride easier than the last and showing how far he’d come from the man I’d first met. The one who was too scared to get up and try.
I noticed a single duffel bag leaning against the sofa, loose around the edges, like a deflated balloon used to being stuffed full and stretched to its limit.
“I’m leaving,” he said, his hand waving in midair before dropping.
It took a moment for the full weight of his words to sink in. The rush of terror I felt was unexpected. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to make a clean sweep of things. I don’t think there’s anything here for me anymore. No house of my own, no job, no future. I can’t keep living on government programs and charity.”
“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” I strove for nonchalance when I felt anything but. Willing the frantic beating of my heart to still, I crossed to the window, my arms hugged over my chest.
“There are plenty of places to see. This job could be a good thing. And I’m not sure staying would be right…” His words dropped off on a sigh.
I recognized the hesitation there and knew what he failed to say. He couldn’t stay here with me.
I forced a harsh laugh when my legs went weak. “Don’t leave on my account. We’re both adults. You can do whatever you please and I won’t get in your way.”
“Who said I was leaving because of you?”
“I can read between the lines.”
“This is my choice, and it has nothing to do with you. There’s nothing left for me here. I’m doing us all a favor by getting on the bike and getting my ass gone.” He crossed the room and took my face between his hands. “Do you understand? This is not because of you.”
“It definitely feels like it.”
“It’s not. Trust me.” The pad of his thumb traced a half-moon above my cheekbone. “Try not to cry. I hate a blubber face.”
Oddly enough, I felt a prickling sensation behind my eyes. Was I about to shed a tear for this arrogant bastard?
He broke contact and packed the last of his shirts into a second leather duffel bag. Without another word, Finn left the room. Giving me the choice to stay behind or follow.
“You live here,” I persisted, hurrying to catch up. “You can’t go. I know you talked about your adventures on the road, all the places and people and experiences still out there, but—”
“No buts. I’m done in Heartwood.”
My heart constricted painfully and I reached up to rub the ache. “Look, we’ve had some crazy ups and downs. It still seems like this decision came out of nowhere.”
“Maybe, but the decision is made.” Finn glanced in my direction, our eyes meeting. “I have a few more pieces of paperwork to sign this afternoon and then I’m out.”
Pride urged my feet to move. “Were you planning on telling me? Or did it amuse you to think I’d come here one day and find you gone? Would I get a postcard in the mail with a picture of whatever hole you’d found on the back? A list of all the great pieces of tail in your new life?”
“Pieces of tail?” He chuckled. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
If jealousy were a sensation, it would be razor blades along the skin followed by a delightful dip in lemon juice.
Finn looked at me and I could see the flash of thoughts behind his eyes. “You don’t need me around. I realized the other night. You have friends here, people who care. Who need you.”
“And you don’t?”
Finn let out a sigh. “Of course I do. However, I’m not worried about me. I’m a burden, and it took too long to realize how much. The fundraiser showed me what I’ve brought on you.”
“What? A bruised shoulder is nothing, it heals.”
“I’m not talking about the shoulder, although yeah, it makes me feel like shit every time I think about you getting in the middle of the fight. It’s everything, Ros. I’m a…what, a degenerate scumbag? I think those were your words. I didn’t realize how true they were until I saw you in your beautiful dress, trying to take care of my ass.”
I swallowed hard and fought the rising bile in the back of my throat. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do.” Fingers raked through his hair, mussing the strands. There was no frustration there. Only grim acceptance.
“You love me. But this is something you need,” I said, trying to understand.
“Yes.”
I kept my voice calm. I didn’t want to scream. The war inside would be determined in a moment, whether I chose to accept the truth and move past it or continue to rage “Finn…”
“You never said the words, Ros.” He blinked as I moved toward him, took three steps in the opposite direction, came back. “You know how I feel, but on my end…did I mean anything to you?”
“Will my answer keep you here?” I asked bitterly.
“No. It won’t.”
I took a moment to absorb the severity of the statement. A real do-not-pass-go scenario. It was hard to believe. We’d come so far, were more alike than I’d imagined. I’d fought for him, given up on him, fought for him again, and now he was leaving.
“Then I guess none of the bullshit matters.” I couldn’t stop him from packing up what little there was of his life. Guilt stabbed my chest when I thought of the time together we could have had if I hadn’t wasted it. There was no accusation in his stare. That made it worse, somehow.
“Tell me, Ros. Tell me how you feel.”
I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand. “I didn’t want to care about you, okay? I wanted to be done and move past it all because I’d heard things. Inappropriate things. And instead of listening to you, I took them to heart. I let everyone else influence my opinions. Of you, myself, my relationships. Don’t you understand? I didn’t want to love you because it was inconvenient. Look where we are.”
“Life is inconven
ient,” he said when I gazed at him in question. “But we can at least acknowledge each other. At least I finally heard you say it.”
“Say what?”
“You love me.”
The pressure in my chest felt a hundred times worse than the confession. “Yes, I love you, you arrogant prick. How was there ever a doubt?”
“There was a pretty huge doubt when you tossed me out without my underwear and told me to not come back.” Finn’s signature grin had lost some of its oomph. “I’m sorry to say…it doesn’t change anything. I’m out.” His hands went into his pockets and he focused his stare on the empty field outside the window.
“You’re feeling salty because Weston showed up at the fundraiser.” I moved behind him and looped my arms under his, resting my head on his shoulder. “Please don’t go because of him. We can make this work, if we try.” It was one last attempt before I must desert the sinking ship.
“I’m giving us both a chance to heal. You understand.”
I did. I had no right to hold it against him. Didn’t stop me, though.
“I’m not perfect. I’m not handsome. I’m not a goddamn mayor. When we made love, it was real, and I wish I could say I fit into your perfect calculation of what a man should be, of what a relationship should be. But I don’t.”
“I never said I wanted perfection.”
He chuckled. “You deserve perfection. You deserve everything this world has to offer you. And if you stay with me, you may never get it. I can’t take that chance. You need to be happy.”
“What about your happiness?” I exclaimed. “You fought so hard to get to this point, and you’re throwing it away.”
“My happiness comes second to yours. Me leaving means you have a better chance to be happy and make a life.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want it without you.”
“Ah, see, now I know you’re lying.” He laughed softly.
“Maybe we can start over. Start from scratch.” I held out a hand for the introduction we never got to have, keeping my face against his back. “Hello, I’m River. I’m an Aquarius who enjoys Thai food, ironing crisp creases into my pants, the smell of cut grass, and trips to Myrtle Beach.”
