“Among other things.” The words drop between us, a threat, a promise. Me. Him. Against the wall, on the floor, in a bed, everywhere, anywhere. Desire hums, a current, poised to electrocute us both.
I swallow and take a wide berth around him; careful we don’t touch. As I do, I glance down, and Finn’s hand is flexing in his pocket. A single step toward him and we’d both cave, give in, fuse. My body is waging war on my head.
When I get to the door, I turn back at him. He’s only half facing me, focused on the wall, his jaw tight with tension.
“Are you coming?” I say.
He raises his eyebrows, a mixture of amusement and annoyance clear on his features.
“Now you want me to come? Could you be any more fucking confusing?”
“When did I say I wanted you to come?” At his expression of disbelief, I give him a sly smile. “I was simply saying I’ll allow you to come.”
Finn chuckles as he ambles toward me. “Allow me?” He rakes his gaze over me, amusement winning out. “Doesn’t work that way.”
“If you follow me,” I say, going out the door. “I think it does.”
His chuckle warms my chest and spirals to other areas. A grin splits my face as I lead the way to the front door. We don’t take long to reach the entrance, and Finn stays behind me the whole time, which is both thrilling and unsettling.
“Where is it?” I ask Jay as soon as I catch sight of him in the entryway.
“Left it outside.”
“Good.” I open the huge wooden door to find a small, wide package off to the right.
I don’t need to check to know Finn is behind me, just beyond my shoulder.
“Why didn’t you let Jay open it?” His voice is gruff.
“He’s got a family.” I squat to pick it up and head toward the driveway, away from the house.
“He’s your bodyguard. This is his job. What the fuck do you think is in there?” Finn’s footsteps are heavy on the driveway.
“I don’t know. But he’s got kids, a wife.”
“And you’ve got a whole company full of people depending on you.” His hand comes around the side of my body and snatches the package away.
“Finn—don’t—” But I’m too late. He’s ripped the packaging off and yanked back the cardboard.
Inside is the same thing I’ve been getting for a couple weeks now. An old-fashioned alarm clock lets off a shrill ring as soon as the parcel opens. Scrawled across the face are the words time is ticking.
He takes the clock out of the box and cradles it in his hand, tossing it into the air. “This some kind of warning?”
When I don’t answer, he hurls the clock at the garage door. It bounces off the metal and shatters on the concrete driveway.
“Who is this and what’d you promise them?”
I take a deep breath, willing my heart to return to normal. The box always holds an alarm clock, but each time I wonder if it’ll be a bomb. “The FBI mole.”
Finn squints at me and shakes his head. “An alarm clock? What’s the ticking for? What’s he want?”
“Money. A lot of money.” I shrug. “I paid him already, or I believe I did. The transaction was through a third party. So he could be trying to get more, or the cash got held up on the way to him.”
“Either way, an FBI dickhead doesn’t threaten you. Fucking amateur. You don’t send a piece of shit alarm clock. You find the thing that matters most, and you dangle it over a ledge.” His quick angry strides toward the house are the smoothest I’ve seen him so far. Rage looks good on him.
“Finn,” I call, following him. “You can’t get involved. You need to keep a low profile.”
He turns on me. “Do you know where this guy is?”
“He’s in Russia, but—”
“Perfect. We can put this dog down.”
“Finn.”
“Why’d you want to open it instead of Jay?”
“I told you why.”
“Which means every time one of these arrives, you think it could be a bomb.”
I purse my lips and don’t answer him. My hand flutters to my hair.
His hard gaze softens. “We go to Russia. We put the agent in his place. I’ll help you figure out the warehouse theft. When we’re done there, I’ll stay behind, get out of your way, let you live your life free of me and my bullshit.”
At his words, a flood of mixed emotions rushes over me, and I’m not sure which to address first. Sadness. Anger. Uncertainty. “I don’t want to kill anyone. That’s not how I work.”
He breaks eye contact with me and one side of his mouth quirks up. “You won’t have to kill anyone.” Shifting away from me, he heads into the house. Just before he opens the heavy door, he calls back, “I’ll do it for you. People don’t fuck with you and live. Not while I’m around.”
Chapter Seven
Finn
There’s not much to pack as I shove the few things Carys bought me into a bag. I will need to figure out how to get more money while I’m in Russia. There’s a knock on my bedroom door, but it can’t be Carys. She had to go out to secure my new identity quicker than expected.
“What is it?” I rest a hand on the side of the bed to ease the strain on my stitches. Who knew getting stabbed and then shot would have such a steep recovery?
Lena’s head pops around the doorframe. “You all right?”
I grimace and straighten. “Just old.”
She laughs. “You’re not that old.”
“Last time I was wounded this badly, I was in my twenties. Didn’t take this long to get better.”
“Maybe your memory is faulty.” She grins.
One side of my mouth quirks up in response. “Could be. Either way, it means I’m old. What can I do for you?”
“Carys asked me to deliver the rest of the clothes she bought you.”
I take the bag from her and shove it in the small suitcase I’ve been packing.
“Not even going to look?”
“Doesn’t seem like it. Anything else?” Truth is, it’s unsettling that Carys knows the things I’m likely to wear, after so many years. Comforting, too. I’m not sure what bothers me more. I’m too volatile, too dangerous for her. She’s a liability for me. Anyone who comes after me will realize Carys is who you dangle over that ledge. Lorcan knew it. Wouldn’t take much for someone else to discover my weakness.
Lena crosses her arms and indecision floats across her face.
“Generally I like people who say what they’re fucking thinking,” I say.
Another brief laugh escapes her. “I’m worried about Carys.”
“I’m gonna help her figure this shit out, and then I’m out of her life.” With a sense of finality, I zip up the suitcase. “I won’t hurt her.”
“Surprisingly, it’s not you I’m worried about.”
I frown. “Eric?”
She shakes her head. “Charles, her father, has done a lot of dirty deals in Russia. A few of them behind her back since he retired. These packages...Carys isn’t sure they’re from the FBI guy. She hasn’t been able to trace them.”
“So, what?” I say. “You think they’re tied to him or some sort of bad deal?”
“I don’t know. But she hasn’t talked to him about the threats, even though I told her she should. She’s forbidden me from telling him.”
“Fuck it. Tell him anyway.”
Lena chuckles and shifts her feet, not meeting my gaze. “It’s taken Carys and a long time to be this close. I—what I’ve been doing with Charles... She means a lot to me, and she wouldn’t forgive me for interfering.”
My chest swells at her words and I brace my hands on my hips, trying to determine what she wants from me. “You want me to tell Charles?”
“If he found out she was the one who saved you, he’d start a nuclear war. Seriously. Last time the two of you were together, she almost died.”
I grit my teeth and focus on the wall over her shoulder. “I’m aware of what he thinks of me.” He w
as very clear in the hospital's hallway when Carys was clinging to life. Carys and I didn’t make sense. Carys and I were too different. Carys and I would end with her dead and me in prison, or we’d both be dead. If I hadn’t been forced on a plane the next day by my father, I would have overruled Charles. Never would have listened to him. But once I’d had time and distance, I realized they were right to drag me away. She made me better, and I made her worse.
“I wanted you to understand that what’s going on over there might not be what she thinks,” Lena says.
With a sigh, I ruffle my hair and grab the back of my neck. “How pissed will Carys be about her father’s dealings?”
“Livid. She caught him one other time and told him if he wanted to work for her, he was welcome to. Otherwise he needed to...how did she phrase that? Stay the fuck out of her way.” Lena winks at me. “She’s got a backbone when she wants.”
I smile and glance at Lena. “You don’t say.” I grab the bag off the bed and stifle a groan. I want to fast-forward time so I’m not so sore. When I head toward the door, she stays put. “Something else?”
She worries her bottom lip. “I heard what you did to the men who almost killed Carys.”
I stare at her and say nothing for a moment, the suitcase clutched in my hand. “She tell you?”
“Charles.”
A bit of a surprise. Of course, he knew what I did. I showed up at the hospital covered in blood, and it wasn’t from his daughter. “He called me a hothead and a fool.”
Lena’s smile is weak. “Probably true, right? He’s got his own temper issues. He knew you would have done anything to protect Carys if you could. It’s just—the lifestyle you lead—you couldn’t keep her safe. Her happiness is his priority, but he also wants her alive.”
“Ah, the irony.” I roll my shoulders and continue toward the door. “The threat she’s facing right now might not even have anything to do with me.”
“You’ll help her whether or not the problem is because of you?”
I grab the edge of the door and stand, poised to exit, to meet Carys back at the front of the house. I half-turn to Lena, not quite meeting her gaze. “What I did in Ireland, killing those men. I’d do it every day for the rest of my life if it meant keeping Carys safe. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.” I yank the door wider. “Including leaving her alone once this threat is done.”
“What if that isn’t what she wants?”
“It is. It will be. And even if it isn’t, we all know I’m not the happily ever after guy.” I walk out the door.
Chapter Eight
Carys
There have been several times in my life when I’ve been grateful for a private jet. But flying a known fugitive from Switzerland to Russia, even on a fake set of documents, makes me appreciate the luxury more than normal.
When we got on the plane, I picked my usual seat, expecting Finn to settle into one near me, close enough to at least talk. Instead he sat as far away as possible, asked for earbuds, and has been drinking Irish car bombs and listening to something—maybe music, maybe a string of angry profanity—who knows?
Every time my focus strays to him and his relaxed pose, I want to scream. It’s irrational, but I hate him for ignoring me so completely that switching off and forgetting I exist when we’re locked on the same plane is easy. Since the moment he opened his damn door to me and Kim, my Finn obsession has been reborn.
Kim. Fucking Kim.
A few seats away, Jay catches my eye. “You all right?”
“Fine.” I draw circles on the side of my head. “Thinking, thinking, thinking.”
He chuckles. “About where we’re going?”
“Should be. But no. About where we’ve been. Never good.” I shift in my seat, straightening my spine and grab the Vogue magazine from the cushion beside me.
“Him,” he says tipping his chin toward Finn. “Or Kim.”
A smile threatens at how well he knows my thoughts. “Both, actually.”
“Ouch.”
I flip through the articles, seeing nothing, skimming over the latest trends. I can’t focus.
“Just go tell him he’s pissing you off. He seems like the type of guy who appreciates a straightforward approach.”
I laugh. “You’re right there. Finn only likes games if he’s the person playing...and winning.” After a glance at Jay, I shuffle through a few more pages of my magazine. “I will not talk to him. What happened between us is old news. Old, dangerous, get-me-killed news.”
“Any room the two of you are in positively crackles.” Jay leans forward in his seat. “Even right now, you’re not talking. But you see the slant of his shoulders.” He uses his finger to draw an invisible line on Finn. “He’s so fucking aware of you it’s unreal.”
I shake my head. “The slant of his shoulders?” My voice drips with disbelief.
“You pay me to notice this shit.”
I close the magazine. “I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t consider it bullshit.”
“Stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand up. I bet he goes tense.”
My lips twitch. I’m amused despite myself. “Just stand,” I clarify.
“Stand up. Wiggle, like you’re pulling your shirt or readjusting your clothes. He might not look, but I guarantee he’ll notice.”
With narrowed eyes, I start to rise.
“No, no,” Jay says. “Don’t look at me. Watch him.”
“Sure. Sure. I’ll watch the slant of his shoulders.” Tossing the magazine on the seat between me and Jay, I keep my focus tuned to Finn. Sure enough, as I tug my shirt, he straightens in his chair. His head angles in my direction, not enough to see me but almost as though he’s listening or waiting for something to appear in his peripheral vision. A predator. A shiver zips through me. Why is that movement, that instinct in him, such a turn on? God, I have issues.
After falling back into my chair, I glance over at Jay who is chuckling. He makes a shooting motion with his finger and then blows on it. Then he pretends to rotate his gun before holstering it. A laugh escapes me, louder than normal. Finn twists in his chair and our gazes connect. My smile slips, and he turns around again.
Fuck it.
With a quick push on the armrests, I’m out of my seat, and I wander to him, my hands in the pockets of my loose black dress pants. When I sit, I keep an empty seat between us. He doesn’t acknowledge me, and I yank out the closest earbud. His jaw tightens, and when he faces me, there’s a hint of anger.
“Can I do something for you?” He removes the other earbud and keeps them bunched in his hand.
Now that I’m over here, next to him, I’m not sure what I want. The only thing I don’t want is him ignoring me. “Should we come up with a strategy for when we arrive?”
“You organize shit. I’m the mindless muscle.”
I cock my head and tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “No offense, but you’re not exactly in prime mindless muscle fitness.”
“Doesn’t take much to shoot a gun.” He swirls the last of his Irish car bomb. “You sure these threats are coming from the FBI guy you paid?”
My fingers flex on the armrests. “Not exactly sure.”
“Give me a percentage.”
“Um...fifty?”
“I’m going to murder someone over a fifty percent chance. I suppose I’ve killed for less. I’m surprised you like those odds though.”
“I told you I don’t want anyone killed.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a guy who makes those sorts of promises.” His icy gaze rakes over me. “The desire to murder an FBI agent is still thrumming through my veins. Wouldn’t take much to set off my instinct.”
“Finn.”
He sits forward and leans across the seat between us. “This is who I am, Carys. I am the guy who does those things.”
Anger rises in me like a tide, and I gather myself, meeting him in the middle of the free seat. “I understand exactly who you are. But if you’
re out there representing me and my business, you fall in fucking line. I put my life, my company at risk by rescuing you. Do you have any idea what Kim gathered on me in the time she worked for me? Cause I don’t. But I sure as hell know she’s got lots on you.”
Finn opens his mouth to speak and on instinct I cover his mouth. Electrical currents shoot through my arm. I ignore the sensation, and Finn’s gaze locks on mine.
“You want to help me,” I says. “You help me. You don’t douse the situation in gasoline and light a match.”
Behind my palm, his lips quirk. Carefully, I remove my hand.
“I wouldn’t drop the match.”
“Yeah, you would.”
“It might accidentally slip out of my fingers.”
“You shot Kim.”
He scowls. “She fucking deserved it.”
“Your plan, such as it was, seemed to be simply not to die.”
“Not true.” He settles back in his chair and avoids eye contact. “I didn’t believe, when it came down to it, Lorcan would pick her over me.”
“That’s a mindset, not a plan.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “You want to put a collar on me? Fine. Done. I won’t kill anyone without your permission.”
“Not just a collar. There’s a leash, too.”
With a smirk, he turns to examine at me. “You into role play now, Carys? You always liked to experiment.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and my anger dissipates. Using the armrests, I vault myself into a standing position and ignore his innuendo. “When we get there, we’ll go to the warehouse first. I have an employee I’ll need to meet with to see what’s been determined.”
He stares at me for a moment and then sticks an earbud back in. “I’m starving.”
“We’ll grab dinner after the warehouse and meeting. I’ll even let you pick.”
“Anything I want?” His gaze roams over me in a hot, leisurely way, suggesting far more than I intend to consider.
His fingers twist and turn the other earbud, distracting me.
I long to press my cool hands against my face. Why is it so scorching on this plane? “Within reason.”
Resurrection Page 5
