In Finn's Heart

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In Finn's Heart Page 11

by Roxie Rivera


  "Yeah?" The truck driver had a naturally gravelly voice that a lifetime of cigarette smoking had only exacerbated.

  "Paul, it's Finn."

  "Finn? Are you okay?"

  "I want a drink." There was no use in mincing words here. He laid it on the line.

  "Talk to me, boy."

  For an hour, Paul listened as Finn spilled out everything that was bothering him. He didn't give the details about the cartel and the Russian mob, but he made it clear that a family issue was weighing heavily on his conscience. It was Hadley that took up most of the call. It was his fear of losing her and everything that their brief relationship had promised that terrified him most and made him want to lose himself in a bottle.

  "The drink won't fix it, kid. You'll wake up tomorrow hating yourself. You told this girl you were clean and sober for nearly three years. You told her you would take care of her. How can she trust anything you say if you take a drink now?"

  It was the thought of failing Hadley and betraying her trust that doused the raging fire of need for a sip of alcohol.

  "Now, listen to me, boy," Paul said seriously. "When my wife was diagnosed with cancer, I walked into a liquor store, bought a bottle of Wild Turkey and sat in my workshop for an hour just staring at the damned thing. I wanted it. I wanted it so bad, Finn. I needed it. You know what stopped me?"

  "No."

  "Beth needed me more. She needed me whole." Paul cleared his throat. "So you call me every day if you need. You might even think about adding in more meetings. Maybe Monday nights aren't enough right now. You've got to walk that line, Finn."

  "I will." Trust the process, Finn reminded himself. He had cut down to one meeting a week earlier in the year, but Paul was right. He needed that support. For her.

  After thanking Paul for answering his call for help, he returned to the bedroom. He sat down to remove his leg and slid into bed next to her as carefully as possible so as not to wake her. She looked so peaceful and relaxed and welcoming.

  He kissed her cheek and her forehead before moving down in the bed. Placing his ear against her chest, he let her soft breast cushion his head while he listened. In the silence of the penthouse, he could hear her heartbeat clearly. It wasn't the usual thud-thud-thud, but more of a swooshing-thump.

  Eyes closed, he concentrated on the sound. Let her live.

  Chapter Ten

  Two nights later, mariachis wailed in the background as my niece paraded into the center of the ballroom dressed like a fairytale princess in yards of blush pink tulle and satin. A dazzling crown sat atop her perfectly coiffed auburn curls. It wasn't quite as ostentatious as the one my father had gifted me on my fifteenth birthday, but it was one of the most glittering I had ever seen at one of these celebrations.

  The pieces of jewelry Ally had been gifted during the church ceremony glinted so beautifully on her skin. The diamond bracelet I had given her matched the earrings Marco had chosen, the necklace Dom had picked out and the sweet little ring Tres had had designed. Flanked by her court of honor, seven boys in tuxedos and seven girls garbed in fancy dresses in complementing shades of hot pink and a rich yellow, she floated into the center of the ballroom. The traditional marcha began, a choreographed dance that showcased my niece and her friends.

  Finn's fingers tickled my neck as he leaned over to whisper in my ear. We were seated at one of the best tables at the reception and had a perfect view of the festivities. Instead of putting all the family together, Mama and Vonny had scattered us around the room to make sure we were mingling with our guests. "This is the wildest birthday party I've ever seen."

  I laughed softly. "I'm sure it is."

  "I can just imagine what a blowout your daddy arranged for you."

  Memories of my quinceañera flashed before me. I had been preparing for another surgery so Daddy had gone all out for my celebration. All these years later, I absolutely cringed at the idea of how much money he had spent, but it had been one of the happiest days of my life. To be the center of attention and to experience the same ceremony that my grandmother and aunts had all experienced upon their welcome to womanhood had been meaningful and moving.

  "So they dance and then?" Despite giving Finn a rundown of the evening's events before leaving the penthouse that morning, he seemed perplexed.

  "After her court finishes dancing, Carlos will dance with her and then my dad. Marco, Dom and Tres will twirl her around the ballroom too. Then the dance floor will open to everyone else." I glanced at his plate. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

  "Yes." He traced the shell of my ear. His expression softened. "You are too pretty for your own good."

  "Oh?" I blushed under his intense gaze.

  "For my good too," he added. "Those brothers of yours have been giving me dirty looks all night. They're going to kill me when they see this." He swept in and kissed me. It wasn't one of the sensual kisses we had shared last night while snuggling on the couch, but sweeter, gentler and shorter.

  When he pulled away, I narrowed my eyes at him. "I can't decide if you're really brave or just plain crazy."

  "Crazy for you," he murmured and toyed with my dangling earrings.

  I glanced at the table next to us where Dom glared at Finn. Head shaved and built like a bull, he made that tuxedo look dangerous. He had shown up at the rehearsal dinner at our parents' house with bruises on his knuckles and a big, freaking love bite on his neck. Apparently the concert in L.A. had gotten rather wild.

  Dom grabbed a handful of the candies from one the decorative dishes on the table and popped them into his mouth, chewing and glowering at Finn. Tres sat next to him, nursing a beer, but he offered me a smile. I couldn't get used to his curly, shaggy black hair and the rough beard he kept now. Mama had threatened to shave him in his sleep, but he had won her over with his big puppy dog eyes. Then he had thrown Dom under the bus for that hickey and split from the kitchen as quickly as possible.

  He had shocked me last night by admitting that he knew Finn Connolly by name. Apparently Finn had quite the reputation as a sniper and a Marine. He had been glad to find out that Finn had gotten his life together and was happy now.

  On the other side of the ballroom, Marco cozied up to his longtime partner Dieter Bosch. The tall, lean furniture designer had won Marco's heart years earlier during one of my brother's trips to Berlin. They were a good couple and balanced each other nicely. Marco winked at me over his wine glass and silently toasted us.

  "Well," I turned my attention to Finn, "I think you only need to worry about Dom."

  Finn sized up my brother with an unflinching and steady stare. "I've taken down bigger guys."

  "That may be," I took his hand, "but let's try to keep the brawling to a minimum tonight."

  Finn lifted our linked hands and kissed mine. "If you insist."

  "I do."

  As the marcha ended, the girls and boys of the honor court moved to the sidelines while Ally enjoyed a dance with her father and grandfather. Dom, Tres and Marco lined up at the edge of the dance floor to have their turns. As much as he frightened everyone, Dom had always been Ally's favorite uncle. For her, he always had a kind word and a gift from his travels. Marco whirled her around the floor like a professional ballroom dancer, making her laugh and grin with excitement. Tres passably waltzed with her, his skills on the battlefield much better than his sills on the dance floor.

  Soon all of the guests were flooding the wide open center of the ballroom. The live band energized the crowd. Finn led me onto the floor, and we danced and danced and danced until I was breathless in the best way. I got a short break before Carlos snatched me away. I was surprised to see Finn asking Vonny for a dance. She happily accepted and smiled at Finn, something that made Dom frown even more from the corner he had claimed as his own kingdom of grumpiness.

  When Carlos led me off the floor, I decided to face my unhappy brother. I wound my way through the crowd, stopping every few feet to talk to acquaintances of our family. Eventually I arrived at Dom's little
fiefdom of scowls and flicked his shoulder. "You look like someone kicked your favorite puppy."

  "More like someone is trying to steal my favorite sister," he grumbled.

  I placed my hand along the back of his shaved head and rubbed the smooth, shiny skin. "I'm your only sister."

  "Doesn't mean you can't also be my favorite," he muttered. Stretching out his long legs, he sighed loudly. "You like this one?"

  I glanced out at the dance floor and found Finn two-stepping with my mother. The sight of them laughing and sharing easy conversation filled me with a warm sensation. "Yes. I like this one very much."

  "He's in love with you." Dom didn’t sound happy about it. "I can tell by the way he looks at you."

  "And how is that?" My heart flip-flopped with exhilaration at Dom's insistence that Finn loved me.

  "Like you're his whole world," Dom said. "Like he can't even breathe without you close."

  "Well… I don't…"

  "It's all right, Hadley. Tres told me all I needed to know about Finn Connolly. I think maybe I could learn to like this one."

  Coming from Dom that was high praise indeed.

  "Now," he turned in his seat and examined me, "tell me about you."

  "What about me?" My skin prickled as a ripple of anxiety hit my belly. Dom had always had the uncanny knack for spotting a lie.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yes."

  "Bullshit. You're lying. You're the worst liar." A glimmer of something that looked suspiciously like panic flashed in his hazel eyes. "It's your heart, isn't it?"

  I couldn't lie to him. Exhaling a long, slow breath, I nodded. "I didn't want to say anything until after Ally's quinceañera. I knew that Mama and Daddy would go nuts if they found out I was having problems again. Ally will only be fifteen once. I'll have heart problems forever."

  Dom swiveled in his chair and tugged me down onto the empty one next to him. Leaning forward, he held my hands in his giant ones. "How bad is it?"

  "I had a whole bunch of tests run on Tuesday and a cath on Thursday."

  "What?" he growled angrily. "You had a fucking cardiac cath without telling anyone?"

  "I told Coby and Finn. They were with me." Not wanting Finn to be the target of Dom's fury, I added, "Finn wanted me to tell you guys, but I made him promise he wouldn't. He didn't like it, but he respected my choice."

  Dom issued a rough huffing sound at that. "What did your tests reveal?"

  "I need to have my valve replaced again and a pacemaker implanted."

  "Munchie," he said softly, using a nickname for me I was so glad to hear. I had always been his little munchkin or Munchie. Any other day the childish name would have annoyed me, but tonight? Tonight I needed it.

  He squeezed my hands in his massive paws. "What did Finn say when he found out about all this?"

  "He told me to fight. He told me to live." I blinked as tears burned my eyes with the memory of our passionate kissing session that night. "He told me he would take care of me."

  Dom peered at me for a long moment. "I guess I won't get to kick his ass after all."

  I laughed at that. Dom retrieved his pocket square and dabbed at my cheek. "It's not a monogrammed handkerchief like the ones Marco carries, but it'll do."

  "Maybe I'll get you some for Christmas. With skulls," I added, thinking of the monogram I would design for my doom metal brother.

  "Hell yes," he agreed with enthusiasm. "Blood red or black," he insisted.

  "Of course," I said. "I wouldn't get you anything else."

  "Are you making your sister cry again, Domingo?"

  My brother and I both glanced at our father. We had been so wrapped up in our conversation we hadn't even noticed his approach. There wasn't a hint of censure in Daddy's voice, but he gazed at us with obvious curiosity.

  "It's a good cry, Daddy."

  "Hmm," he said, unconvinced. Holding out his hand, he wiggled his fingers. "They're playing our song next. Come on, mi'ja."

  Wanting to pretend that everything was fine, I let my father tug me out of my seat and lead me onto the dance floor. We had just found our spot when the familiar opening beats of My Girl echoed in the ballroom. We had been dancing to this song since I was a little girl, back in the days when he would hold me on his hip and whirl me around his home office.

  Now, more than ever, I wanted to feel like that little girl again. She believed in miracles and happily-ever-afters. Spinning around the dance floor with my father, I almost believed in them too.

  *

  Unable to stop the smile that tugged at his mouth, Finn watched Hadley and Eddie dance. It was clear the two of them did this often. They laughed and grinned and chattered animatedly. Thrilled that she had this one night of perfect happiness before she came clean with her family in the morning, Finn slowly faded into the crowd and sought out some peace and quiet. He had been lucky to escape his many combat tours without too many issues, but he had a hard time in big crowds and noisy rooms. A breather would do the trick.

  Out in the opulent lobby of the hotel the Rivera clan had commandeered for Ally's ostentatious birthday celebration, Finn found a bench near a fountain and claimed a spot. The music was muted out here with the doors to the ballroom closed, but anytime one of them opened, the cacophony of revelry drifted into the peaceful stillness of the lobby.

  He stretched out his legs, flexing his tight thigh and watching his prosthetic foot move up and down in an almost natural way as the various pins and levers worked their engineering magic. He thought back to that day Hadley had warned him that one tuxedo wouldn't be enough if he hung around her long enough. She had been right. Budgeting for another one was top of his list.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and listened to the burble of water spilling into the mosaic tiled pool. Even with his eyes closed, he remained aware of his surroundings. It was the soft tap of dress shoes against the marble that told him someone was coming toward him. A man, he decided, by the sounds of it. He listened to the footfalls and relaxed when he realized they weren't heavy enough to belong to Dom. Of all of Hadley's brother's, the bassist with the bruised knuckles was the one most likely to deck him over some unknown slight.

  "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

  Finn parted his eyelids with surprise at the sound of Eddie Rivera's voice. Sitting up, he gestured to the bench. "Not at all, sir."

  "No need for that, Finn. I'm not your C.O." Eddie sank down on the bench with apparent relief. No doubt his feet were killing him after being on them all day. Shooting him a knowing look, he asked, "The noise get to you?"

  Finn nodded. "It's the bodies that make it hard for me to relax. I find myself scanning them for hints of explosive vests or belts."

  Eddie didn't seem the least bit surprised by Finn's honest reply. "I know how that goes. I still can't stand the Fourth of July. I gritted my teeth and muscled through it when the kids were young, but I'll tell you what. I was so damned happy the summer Hadley told me she didn't like sparklers or fireworks. The boys were old enough to do their own thing at that point. That was the first year I had relaxed during the holiday since Carlos had been born."

  "We get out of town. My brothers and I," he clarified. "We go to some place with a burn ban and enjoy the silence. We had some problems with a neighbor last year who liked to set off black cats at two in the morning, but the sight of Jack vaulting over his fence put an end to that."

  Eddie chuckled. "A man has the right to a good night's sleep in his own home."

  "That he does."

  "How many times were you over there?"

  The question threw him for a second. "I did three tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq. You?"

  Eddie held up three fingers. "A helo crash ended my time in Vietnam. How I survived with only some cuts and scrapes I will never know."

  "That's war for you."

  "Yeah," Eddie agreed quietly.

  Deciding it was now or never, Finn said, "You had me investigated after the night I saved Hadley."<
br />
  "Of course," the older man confirmed. "I wanted to know what sort of man had a cartel gunning for him."

  "Not for me," Finn corrected. Not then, at least.

  "No, not for you," Eddie agreed.

  With his suspicions confirmed about the background check, Finn said, "Well, I guess I know why you dislike me so much. You think I'm no good for her because I'm a recovering alcoholic, but I'll prove you wrong."

  Eddie didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he pushed aside the lapel of his tuxedo jacket and stuck two fingers into the pocket of his waistcoat. He retrieved a coin and flicked it at Finn who caught it easily. Holding it up, Finn read the inscriptions on both sides. He blinked and read them again before glancing at Eddie. "Is this real?"

  "Twenty-nine years," Eddie confirmed. "Sela has a new one made for me on the anniversary of my last drink. Carlos was four when I stopped."

  Hadley's ability to recite A.A. slogans that night he had admitted to his affliction suddenly made sense. "I didn't know."

  "It's not something a man goes around advertising. Admitting weakness isn't a good business tactic." Eddie twisted in his seat and laid his arm along the back of the bench. "Finn, I don't dislike you because you're a recovered alcoholic or because your family got tangled up with a cartel. I dislike you because you're a man."

  Finn rubbed the coin between his fingers. "I don't understand."

  "You don't understand because you aren't a father. When Hadley was born, we knew something was wrong with her. They found it at Sela's ultrasound. Back then, the surgeries she needed had a twenty percent or higher mortality rate. They delivered her by C-section and ran her out of the room before we even got to see her. You can't imagine what that feels like."

  No, he really couldn't. Someday, maybe, he would know what it was like to be a father.

  "When she was stabilized in the NICU, they let me in to see her. I got to sit in a rocking chair next to the little incubator where they were keeping her and hold her. She was a tiny thing, even at thirty-eight weeks. She wasn't even six pounds, and she was covered in wires and tubes. She had those strange, pretty eyes of hers even back then. She held my finger, and I knew right then that I would die for her. I would kill for her. I would anything to keep her alive."

 

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