“I wish I didn’t have a memory of mine. I identified Sawyer’s body. I was nineteen. Our parents let their staff make the arrangements for his funeral. They flew in that morning and flew out again that night. Some business deal in Hong Kong that couldn’t be postponed.”
“Jesus. My grandfather is a demanding, dictatorial asshole, but your parents might be worse.”
Finn shrugged. “They’re gone now. Died in a plane crash in Thailand nine months after Sawyer.”
Genevieve made a strangled sound in the back of her throat.
“Trust me, it wasn’t a loss.”
Her eyes were damp. Finn stared at Genevieve, taking in the sadness that filled her. For him. He didn’t think anyone had ever cried for him.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Not your fault.”
“No, but that doesn’t stop me from caring you’ve experienced that pain. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Giving me this piece of you.”
Dropping back down onto the bed beside him, Genevieve wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. She simply held him, soothing away something that wasn’t her fault or responsibility.
Giving him peace he hadn’t known he’d desperately needed.
* * *
Finn stared at the imposing structure of the museum across the street. The soaring columns were impressive, not to mention the history of the building itself. Once a church used as a hospital during the Civil War, now it housed the largest private collection of historic manuscripts.
Most people would be surprised to discover Finn had an affinity for “old paper.” But the documents, manuscripts and scores housed inside the building held history, revolution and humanity. They were the memory of mistakes and triumphs. Lessons the rest of the world needed to remember so as not to repeat.
Not to mention, manuscripts and historical documents could be quite valuable.
But this place had one piece that always held a special place in his heart—the stage version of Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.
Standing out front, it was child’s play to catalog the weaknesses in their security. It wouldn’t take much effort for him to take ownership of the piece. Only one thing kept him from following through—he appreciated the ideas the museum had been founded on.
Not to mention, he had a hard and fast rule about stealing from nonprofits. Taking something from a private collector who got off on keeping precious works of art hidden behind walls and barriers for the sole purpose of ownership...that was reprehensible.
This was just him getting itchy.
He’d been restless since his conversation with Genevieve. Opening up to her about Sawyer had left him feeling...uncomfortable.
He’d pulled his first job weeks after Sawyer’s death. Planning the heist had been a distraction from the grief and guilt. The ultimate high to drown out the pain when it had gone flawlessly and he’d walked away with a priceless work of art.
Standing outside the museum—effortlessly formulating a plan he had no intention of using—was a needed reminder of just who he was.
Someone who would never deserve to be a part of the happy family Genevieve would someday have.
Hell, it had been less than two weeks and he was already straining beneath the mantle of domesticity. Ignoring the urges deep inside him, pretending to be the man she wanted and needed, was exhausting. Not to mention, doomed to failure.
Deep down, he would always be a criminal. Dangerous to those around him that mattered.
Maybe it would be better if he admitted that right now. Reminded them both that he wasn’t a good man.
He wasn’t who Genevieve wanted him to be.
The rub was, a huge part of him wanted to be who she saw when she looked at him. But Finn had no idea how to do that.
One thing was for certain, walking inside that museum and stealing a historically valuable document simply because it reminded him of his brother wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Ten
Finn turned from the museum and headed back to his car, restless energy still humming seductively beneath his skin. Slipping into the soft leather seats, he connected his phone to the Bluetooth and hit one of the few numbers programmed in.
He slammed the gas pedal to the floor and roared out of the parking lot, uncaring for the nasty looks he received on his way out—a guy needed to get thrills where he could—just as the call connected.
“Finn,” Stone’s dry voice answered.
“I’m itchy as hell and about to do something stupid.” That was as close to a cry for help as he was going to get.
“Where are you? I’m coming to you.”
This was why Stone was one of his best friends. No hesitation, question or censure. Just support and immediate action.
“No need. I’m coming to you.”
Hitting the button to end the call, Finn let the force of the car push him back into the cradle of the expensive leather seat. His fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, not just gripping for control of the car.
Ten minutes later, he walked in the front door at Stone Surveillance and straight back to Stone’s office. Knocking the door closed behind him, he sprawled into the waiting chair across from his friend’s glossy desk.
Stone didn’t bother to ask questions. He walked to the sideboard, poured two fingers of Scotch into cut-crystal glasses and handed him one. “Talk to me.”
Frowning into the amber liquid, Finn stared at it for a few seconds before knocking it back and swallowing it in one gulp. The liquor burned down the back of his throat, but he welcomed the pain of it.
“I can’t do it,” he finally murmured.
“Do what?”
“Go straight.” Finn dropped the glass onto the top of Stone’s desk and then stared up at his friend. “It’s only been a few weeks and I’m chafing against the perfect family picture Genevieve is painting me into. We both know I’m not a nice guy and I’ve never professed to be one. Eventually, I’m going to screw up, man.”
Stone crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his hips back against the edge of his desk and pulled his lips into a frown. “From everything you’ve told me and the reports I’ve read, Genevieve strikes me as a pretty practical woman. Not to mention intelligent.”
“She is.”
“Something tells me she’s perfectly aware of the kind of man you are and doesn’t expect you to be anything you’re not, including perfect.”
“For someone so smart, you can be incredibly stupid” was Finn’s dry response.
“Funny, Piper likes to tell me the same thing. I think you’re both wrong. But I’m absolutely certain of it where Genevieve is concerned. Have you talked to her about any of this?”
“Hell, no. Given our history, I’m certain the last thing she wants to hear about is my struggle to go straight.”
“I don’t know. I have a feeling she’d be pretty supportive.”
Finn scoffed. “You know nothing about women.”
“Bullshit. I’m the only one of us who’s currently planning a wedding.” Stone waved a hand, cutting off any rebuttal Finn could make. “None of that matters. I have a solution that might get you the adrenaline fix you need in a way that’s perfectly legal.”
Finn was pretty certain nothing legal could provide him the same challenge or gratification that stealing could.
“Whatever.”
“No, seriously. Listen to me.”
Finn shrugged. He didn’t have much choice. He’d come to Stone, after all.
“Why do you think I’ve been pressuring you to join the company?”
“Because you’re an asshole.” And a good friend. “But you’ve gotten your way.” As usual. “So what does that have to do with anything?”
“I have a client I think you can help.”
/>
Finn scoffed. “You have someone who needs a painting stolen?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, right.” Stone was as straight a shooter as Finn had ever encountered. He might have spent ten years in prison, but he was hardly a criminal. In fact, the time he did break the law was in defense of his fiancée, killing her rapist. There was no way in hell Stone would agree to take on a client who wanted them to steal something. Stone had too much honor for that.
“Actually, our client already had a priceless artifact stolen from his office.”
No doubt the idiot had displayed the piece in an attempt to make himself feel powerful and in control, but failed to protect the item. “I’m going out on a limb to suggest he deserved to lose it.”
“Probably.”
“So you and Gray are helping to recover the piece.” Finn didn’t bother to ask the question, he already knew that’s what his friends were going to do. Because their sense of honor where this kind of thing was concerned happened to be a bit different from his own.
“Yes.”
“Great, you know that’s not something I’m going to help with.”
“I know.”
“Exactly what do you need me for, then?”
“He’s also asked us to assess his security around the rest of his personal collection.”
“And you want me to point out where his holes are.”
“Yes. But I want you to do more than just observe and assess. I want you to break in and steal whatever you can get your hands on.”
Finn tipped his head sideways, staring at Stone and trying to figure out if he was being serious. “What does that accomplish? Just assess his system, tell him where the weaknesses are and get him to sign off on the upgrades.”
“He wants a more hands-on approach.”
Well, bully for him. “People in hell want ice water.”
“Let’s just say this guy has enough money to purchase your specialized skill set.”
“Too bad I don’t give a shit how much money he has. I don’t need it.” Finn lasered Stone a pointed glance. “Neither do you.”
His friend shrugged. “True, but Stone Surveillance does need the funds.”
“Bullshit.”
“How about we need the word of mouth in order to build the business? We’re not planning to advertise. We’re only looking to take on niche clients.”
“Or bleeding-heart stories and clients who need real help.” Because that was his friend. Stone had billions of dollars and could spend the rest of his life sitting on the sand somewhere with a cold drink in his hand. But that wasn’t Stone.
“We’re lucky, Finn. You, me and Gray. We’ve all had our problems, but at the end of the day our bank accounts afford us access to resources that allow us benefits others don’t have.”
Apparently, not enough benefits since all three of them had spent plenty of time in prison. Although he had to admit that, out of the three of them, he was the only one who’d actually deserved to be there. Stone had been defending someone he loved from a monster. And Gray... Finn had no doubt Gray was innocent of the charges he’d been convicted of.
And that was a puzzle he’d happily spend the rest of his life helping his friend solve.
But in the meantime... “This client of yours sounds like he has plenty of resources all on his own. Why does he need our help?”
“He’s a close family friend. A man I’ve known my entire life.”
“Ahhh.” There was the connection.
“And taking paying clients allows us to help the ones who can’t afford help on their own. The ones who really need us.”
“You’re going to keep talking until I agree to do this, aren’t you?”
“Remember that agreement you made when you signed the ownership paperwork? Let’s consider this your contribution to the company.”
“Asshole.”
Stone grinned at him. “Do you wanna see the specs on his system or not?”
Finn let out a low growl, but waved his fingers, indicating Stone should bring it on.
“What the hell does this guy own, anyway?”
“One of the largest private art collections in the South. He has several paintings from Rembrandt, Degas, Pollock, van Gogh and Basquiat. He also fancies himself an amateur archaeologist and likes to purchase artifacts from ancient civilizations. He’s not selfish, though, and regularly loans his pieces out to museums around the world.”
“Jesus,” Finn grumbled. “Sounds like a guy with more money than sense.”
“No, he’s simply a collector who likes to believe he’s preserving art and history for the next generations.”
“Without spending the time and money he needs to protect that history.”
“That’s where you come in. He recognizes the need to up his game. And he’s willing to invest in the best. Use your expertise. Get up close and personal with his systems. Tell us what he needs so we can help him preserve that culture for others.”
Finn didn’t like this. Something about it felt wrong, but he also couldn’t fault Stone for his argument.
“You’ve known this guy for a long time?”
“Yes. He’s given his permission for us to have unfettered access to whatever we need. And he’s aware we might have unconventional methods for assessing his current security.”
“Well, that takes all the fun out of things, doesn’t it?”
A wicked half smile tugged at Stone’s mouth. “Not really. We won’t tell him what you’re doing. I might be able to get you out of jail after the fact, but if you get caught breaking in, you’re likely going to spend some time behind bars again.”
“Not to mention give my probation officer heart palpitations.”
“So don’t get caught.”
For the first time since walking into Stone’s office, excitement began to bubble through Finn’s veins. “Oh, I have no intention of getting caught, my friend.”
* * *
Genevieve pushed back from the microscope she’d been using to create the setting for the alexandrite necklace. The platinum filigree and brilliance of the tiny diamonds she was using as accents would be a perfect contrast for the deep, rich colors of the bigger stones. Ever since talking with Finn about the pieces a week ago, things had started to fall into place. This felt right, when everything else she’d attempted had felt oh-so-wrong.
Inspiration was a fickle and amazing thing.
It was also an unrelenting taskmaster. She’d spent more hours in the studio over the last week, driven to finish the piece as quickly as possible, than she had in the last month. When she wasn’t in the studio, she was cramming in as much time with Finn and Noah as she could.
There was no hiding the fact that she was exhausted. There just weren’t enough hours in the day, which made her feel guilty. The only thing that held the guilt at bay right now was the idea that it would all be over in just a few weeks. After that, she was going to take a long break and make it up to her son.
Rubbing at her eyes to try and get them to refocus after being tunneled down to just the piece, Genevieve let her body sag against the chair.
“You’re working too hard.”
She jumped, the rolling casters on the bottom of her chair rattling as it moved several inches before being caught and stopped.
Craning her head around, she stared up into Nick’s face. “You startled me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just coming to let you know I’m heading out for the night. And suggest you do the same. You’ve had your head stuck in that scope for hours.”
Shifting his hands, Nick brushed the hair away from her neck and began digging his thumbs into the top of her spine. “Your neck has to be killing you after sitting hunched over like that for so long.”
Genevieve didn’t realize the ache was even there unti
l he started rubbing. Letting out a deep groan, she sank into the relief his capable hands were giving her.
But after a few minutes, once the initial pain had subsided, a sense of unease trickled through her. Damn Finn and his poisonous thoughts. Nick was a friend and nothing more. He’d rubbed her neck this way before, countless times. In her own studio and when they’d both worked at Reilly.
It meant nothing.
Still, twisting, Genevieve stood up and offered Nick a grateful smile. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how tight my muscles were.”
“No problem.” Taking a step toward the door, Nick said, “I’m heading out. Why don’t you leave, too? I can lock up for you.”
Genevieve looked longingly at the door. A part of her wanted to do just that. Go home, scoop her son up into her arms, feed him dinner and give him a bath. Then curl up beside Finn on the couch and neck like teenagers in front of the TV, watching a show neither of them cared anything about.
But there was also a part of her that didn’t want to go home. Because home was complicated and uncertain. What the hell was she doing with Finn?
Anyone looking in would say they were in a relationship. A family. But...she wasn’t sure that’s what was really going on. Or what she wanted.
Could she ever let herself trust Finn again? Or trust herself around him?
Sure, Finn challenged her. He’d been the first person to recognize who she was, and tell her there was nothing wrong with being that person. Even if her grandfather had always told her she was stupid, useless and wrong.
And then, by his actions, Finn had managed to taint the self-discovery that had started to make her feel empowered. Sure, over the last three years she’d found her own inner power, but now that he was back in her life...
Bottom line was, she didn’t trust her own instincts around Finn. He clouded her judgment. He made her reckless.
If it was just her, she might enjoy the ride and deal with consequences later. But it wasn’t just her. Unfortunately, the same thing that made her cautious was the same thing that would keep Finn in her life for a very long time. It wasn’t as simple as trying to resist.
The Devil's Bargain (Bad Billionaires Book 2) Page 11
