Chapter 59: Chapter 59

C H A P T E R - T W E N T Y - F I V E

My eyes opened and slipped up as I felt a weight hit the bed.

Finn sat there, dressed in a skintight top and faded pants. His hair was dripping wet from a shower. His blue gaze was fixed on me.

I was laying in his bed at a fairly good house in the foothills outside Manila, not at the Mayhem Compound. It was constructed just up the mountain. It was one story tall and had a deck that stretched the length of the front of the house. I knew it would be beautiful in the daytime, but I wasn't paying attention because I was numb, fatigued, and desperately fighting back hysterical sobs, a tantrum, and the want to murder.

"Sleep, darlin'," Finn said as he walked me to his bedroom, dumping my handbag on his nightstand.

He then walked away.

I removed my boots, socks, and jeans, and since I was wearing my nightshirt, I hopped into his unmade bed and did precisely what he said.

It was now, and I was curled into a protective ball, my hands in prayer position beneath my chin.

Finn spoke up. "Do you want breakfast, peaches?" ”

"Do you cook or have a biker chick who prepares breakfast to order?"  I said, and there it was.

Automatic. The badass.

Was I ever going to learn?

Finn smiled. "I cook. Best pancakes you'll ever eat, you get out of bed," he replied.

I wasn't hungry for the first time in my life.

That was not correct. I didn't eat for three days after discovering my spouse in bed with my sister and kicking his a$$ out. I didn't realize it, but Enrico did, and he forced me to eat. But that was the last time I went hungry.

"Sounds wonderful," I lied, not moving.

Finn reached out, curled his fingers around my forearm, and gently removed my hand from under my face when I didn't. Then he lifted my arm, his gaze falling to my wrist. His hand slid up cautiously, wrapping his fingers around my palm, and I watched as he pulled my arm higher... higher... till he bent his neck and his lips brushed the wounded and torn skin at my wrist.

My breathing became labored.

Falcone should have done that, but he was so preoccupied with Brett, or most likely trying to figure out how to end things with me now that he had completed the challenge and was ready to move on, that he completely forgot I had been kidnapped, bound, gagged, and targeted as bait last night.

Finn lifted his head, leaned in, and put my hand to his chest.

He said quietly, "My girl had a rough day yesterday."

Falcone should have added that as well.

"There's awful and then there's horrible, and I'm learning about the nuances, but sure... yesterday introduced me to a new level of bad."

"You'll need pancakes."

Finally, a man who recognized food's healing qualities.

"Pancakes would be nice," I said.

My hand was clasped by his. "Get out of bed, honey; I'm going to the kitchen."

Then he lifted my hand, pressed his lips against my knuckles, released it, jumped out of bed, and strolled out of the room.

I took my time getting out of bed, searching through my suitcase for my toothbrush and face wash before entering the bathroom off his bedroom and doing my business. Then I didn't bother dressing because my nightshirt covered me better than most of my dresses. I walked out of the room, and because the home was built into the hill and all the rooms were on one side, the corridor was lined with windows from which I could see the view.

The good news was that there was a sharp drop off beyond the deck, making a successful drive-by difficult. The view was also amazing, which was great news. And there was no bad news for the first time in over a week.

I strolled along the corridor, glancing at the rooms to my left. A bathroom and two further bedrooms, one with a bed and dresser and one with a cluttered office. Then I stepped into the vast space. An open kitchen with a bar separated it from the internal corridor opposite sliding glass doors leading to the deck, and the kitchen led into a big living area that jutted out a bit at the front of the home.

Finn was at the stove in the kitchen.

I stepped closer to him, but not too close, and leaned on the counter. When I looked down, there were six immaculate silver dollar pancakes on a griddle.

His gaze was drawn to mine.

"You seem to be good at it," I remarked.

He made no response to my comment. Instead, he inquired, "Do you need coffee?" ”

"Do I look like Giabella Gomez, am I breathing, and is it morning?"  I said.

Shit! There it was again. The badass.

Finn smiled. He jerked his head back to the counter behind me.

"Please make yourself at home, peaches," he said.

Oh boy.

"Do you want a refresher? " I inquired.

"I'm fine, baby," he replied.

While speaking, I moved to fetch mugs. "Would you mind telling me what happened last night?" ”

"It appears we're thinking the same thing."

I closed the cupboard door with my hand wrapped around a mug and turned to face him.

“What?”

"Babe, you raced out of Falcone's like the place was haunted and leapt on Big Ben's bike."

"Um..." I replied, lowered my head, grabbed the handle of the coffeepot, and began pouring.

"Why don't you respond to my inquiry first?"

He didn't pause. "I came there because I wanted to know why you were kidnapped and then auctioned off one hour later." Falcone and I negotiated a pact in which he promised to have your back if anything bad happened, and it did. He messed up on the job."

I turned to face Finn. "His man was shot three times while guarding me," I explained softly.

Finn's gaze was fixed on mine. "As I already stated, I'm falling down on the job."

Hmm. This was both unfair and heartbreakingly accurate.

I opened the refrigerator and found milk. "Do you have any sugar?"

Finn was flipping pancakes, he finished this task, reached into a cupboard and pulled out a half full bag of sugar, putting it down by my mug. I searched for spoons, sloshed in milk, did my sugar, put back the milk and stirred. Then I set the spoon aside and sipped the coffee.

Finn made good coffee too.

Hmm.

“Peaches,” Finn called, I looked and I saw he was watching me.

“Yes?”

“I answered your question, now’s the time you answer mine.”

I took another sip and studied him over the rim of my mug. His eyes didn’t leave mine so I sighed.

Then I shared, “Falcone just ended things with me so I really, really needed a ride.”

“Falcone ended things?” he whispered and even though I was studying him, I still missed the change in him but when I caught it, my body got tight.

Shit!

“Um…”

“He ended things the night you got kidnapped, your fuckin’ wrists torn up and your picture, bound and gagged, farmed out for bid.”

That didn’t sound good but then again, it fucking wasn’t.

“Um…” I mumbled.

Finn turned to his pancakes. “At least he fuckin’ ended things. Clean go.”

Finn scraped pancakes off the griddle onto a waiting plate as I asked,

“Clean go?”

His head turned to me. “Clean go. For you. He’s outta the picture, I don’t have to deal with his shit anymore.”

Uh-oh.

“Finn –” I started, uncertain how to say what I had to say and that was I was so done with men. Seriously done with them. Forever done with them. I was not going to go there again. The problem was, according to Falcone, saying something like that to Finn was like a challenge and I really didn’t need that.

Finn dropped the pancake flipper on the counter, turned and closed the distance between us before I could blink.