Finn
Finn had barely gotten to the other side of the amphitheater parking lot when his phone started to go off. He couldn’t hear it; the engine of his motorcycle was too loud and primal a roar. If his phone hadn’t been in the pocket of his T-shirt and pinned up against his chest, he might not have felt the vibration from it either. He wanted to ignore it. The cold comfort of a long night ride was calling to him. He wanted to get lost in the cold air rushing over his face and the violent tremor of his bike beneath him. But it might be Cora calling, and the thought had him downshifting and pulling over next to a beat-up hatchback with a thousand stickers for every goth-metal band that had ever toured the backwaters of Europe cluttering up the bumper.
By the time he pulled the phone out, it had stopped ringing. The missed-call message came from the boss. Finn glared down at it. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he knew Cora well—too well. Maybe it was just him being paranoid; he’d heard that people often got stupid and jumped to conclusions in the first months of being in love, but it all seemed to fit together just a little too nicely.
He didn’t want to talk to the boss right now. He wanted to enjoy a few hours to himself. Finn needed to just get lost in the ride. He was just about to put his phone back in his pocket when it lit up again, letting him know the boss was calling a second time. That couldn’t be good.
“Yeah?” Finn asked, putting the phone to his ear.
“Someone’s feeling bitchy.” Robinson’s voice rumbled through the phone, low enough to be sinister.
“Been a hell of a night.” Finn took a deep breath and decided that his boss needed to know what had happened with Oliver. “Someone’s selling in our territory.”
There was a long silence. “You wanna run that one by me again, Lieutenant?” The boss’s tone was dangerous, like glass pressed against skin.
Finn took a moment to gather his thoughts before he started speaking. “I don’t have the whole story yet, I’ll let you know when I do. A kid got caught selling at a concert. So far he’s been real tight-lipped about where he got them and who his distributor is.”
“I’ll just bet he has. You working him?”
Finn knew what his boss was asking. If it had been any other kid, Finn would have hauled him someplace private to make sure he got the information. But this was Oliver. He remembered the way Oliver had looked when Finn had walked in the door of the security office. He’d looked…young. Young and afraid, like some kind of angry baby bunny who had stumbled into a fox’s den. It hadn’t made him feel particularly good to know he had put that look on the kid’s face.
“Yeah,” Finn lied. “I’m working it.”
“You better be. We got a meeting set up, tomorrow night. You can make your case known then. Find out if redhead pussy is better than riding with your brothers.”
Finn ran his tongue across his teeth. There was a bitterness to Robinson’s words that a person just didn’t get unless there was history involved. Finn was more sure now than ever before that his boss had a past with the woman who could be his future.
“How well do you know Cora?” Finn asked.
There was another silence followed by a hearty chuckle. “Is that sticking in your craw, Lieutenant? That I might have plugged her first?”
Finn felt his lip curl into a sneer of frustration. It didn’t bother him that Robinson might have slept with Cora back when they were teenagers. Those years were so full of hormones that some folks would have dated linoleum if it had given them the time of day. It bothered him that whoever it was had treated Cora like crap.
She’d looked so lost, so broken when he’d left her a few minutes ago. It tore at him to know he had put that bleak and terrible expression on her face. But what else could he do? She kept pushing at him, keeping him away, and that was tearing at him, too.
“Just answer the damn question,” Finn said.
“Watch your mouth, kid. I still run this show.”
Finn shook his head once, hard. “You don’t run Cora. No one does.”
Robinson snorted. “That’s the goddamned truth, isn’t it?”
“So it was you.”
There was a third long silence, this one interrupted by the sound of a metallic lighter being flicked open. Finn couldn’t see the other man, but he could picture him lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. “How much did she tell you?”
“That there was a guy, got her pregnant, threw some money at her, and told her to deal with it.”
“Well,” Robinson said. “That sounds about right.”
Fury, hot and liquid, surged through Finn. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Calm down, Lieutenant. I get that you are angry. Hell, I can’t say I blame you. Cora’s…well…she’s good people. She was hell on wheels then and, from what I hear, she’s not much different now. Yeah, I know she’s got money and a business, but that don’t surprise me much. She was never content to just…exist. She had passion, and I was young enough to think I could tame it.”
It was Finn’s turn to snort. It was loud and derisive enough that Robinson started to laugh.
“Yeah,” Robinson responded, “I agree with that. I was young and dumb and full of…well…you know.”
“Did you love her?”
“Maybe. Hard to say now. She was a beautiful girl just about to be a woman, and I was in that stupid place where I was barely a man. I liked the way she looked at me, mostly because she didn’t look at many people. It means something, you know? It means more when she’s so…discriminating.”
“Yeah. I get what you mean.” It was hard to get Cora’s attention; it was even harder to keep it. Had he been wrong to turn her away? She wasn’t like other women. She wouldn’t come chasing after him. Cora Anderson would wrap all that ice around herself and let it all go.
“Did you fuck it up?”
“Maybe,” Finn said, parroting Robinson’s words back at him. “Hard to say now.”
Robinson let out a long slow breath. “All right, I’m going to tell you something. I’m only going to say it once, so you better listen. I’ve known countless women, some for an hour, some for a month, and a few for years. I’ve seen women from Ireland, Korea, and everywhere in between. Of all of them, only two have ever really got under my skin and made me a better man. One of them was Cora Anderson. I knew I screwed up when I lost her so I was smart enough not to lose the next woman who made me feel that way. So suck it up. Whatever is going on, fight it out. Dish it out. If you don’t, you are going to regret it.”
There were plenty of men who got poetic about women after they got a few beers in them, the kind who stared into a drink and lamented the loss of pretty girls who had made their brains go stupid. The boss wasn’t one of them. No one would say he didn’t love Marcy, that was clear, but Finn couldn’t remember the last time the boss had even spoken about another lady. He cursed heavily and glanced over his shoulder, as if he’d be able to see her car.
“Figure out where the drugs are coming from,” Robinson said before hanging up the phone.
Finn tucked the phone in his pocket and kicked the engine back into gear. For a moment, he sat there, letting the bike idle as he put together a plan. Aspirations for a long ride into the night were behind him. Tomorrow night his club was getting together so they could decide if he could stay in or leave. It would be best if he knew what was going to happen if and when that happened.
He’d give her the rest of the night, he decided. Then he’d go to her place. He’d talk to her about Oliver, and then he’d talk to her about the two of them. He’d lay it all out for her, tell her they could make it work. Whatever she needed, within reason, he’d be willing to give. She wanted him out of the club, fine. She wanted a stable man, fine. He’d give her all of that. He’d give her everything short of his life. And, he realized, even as he thought about it, in the right circumstance he’d be willing to give her that, too.
Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have to wait that long to tell her. He saw her, sitting in an empty parking spot. Her knees were drawn up to her forehead and her arms laced around her legs. She looked lost and sad and pathetic, words he would never have associated with the powerhouse that was Cora. He slowed down, coming to a stop in front of the empty space.
She looked at him. Her eyes were tear stained and rimmed in red. His belly felt cold. “Get on.”
She blinked. Her eyes were hazy as if she didn’t quite understand what he was saying. He shifted his balance on the seat and reached around to grab the spare helmet for her. Without saying anything else, he thrust it in her direction and waited for her to take it. It was clear Oliver, who had been told to wait in the car, had gone for another joyride. Finn wasn’t just going to leave her here to deal with that all on her own.
She stood up and dragged her palms across her cheeks, disrupting the lines of tears. Her steps were uneven, in part from the sexy heels she was wearing, and from everything that was weighing on her. Part of that weight had been because of him. She took the helmet and buckled it on before slinging herself behind him. She was stiff, keeping a few inches of space between them. He gripped her hand and pulled her closer.
“It’s all right,” he said.
She shivered and closed the gap. Her soft curves were warm against his back, and her arms were tight around his middle. It felt good. He put the bike into gear and took off. With no clear destination in mind, he headed back for Carson. It took him a few miles to realize she was clinging to him, not just holding him, and the back of his shirt was getting wet with tears.
Jesus, he thought to himself. Don’t cry, Cora…anything but that. A hundred miles later he pulled into a twenty-four-hour station for gas close to the place where Cora was staying.
“What happened?” he asked as he pulled into pump number four.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I came back to the parking spot, and the car was gone. I walked around for a few minutes, hoping I had just gotten mixed up. I didn’t want to believe he’d stolen my car.”
Finn didn’t much want to believe it either, but he didn’t think she was lying. Cora wasn’t the kind of woman who misplaced her car, no matter how packed the parking lot was. “Something is going on.”
“The drugs?”
“Yeah. When I walked into the security office, the guy handed me a bag. It had a variety. It wasn’t just pot. There were baggies of pills in ten different varieties and…well, a few other things, too. It wasn’t the bag of someone who was using. You don’t use all of that and still stay upright.”
“So…so he wasn’t using?”
Finn thought back, remembering all the sunken-eyed looks and moody growls Oliver had been giving over the past few months. They went above and beyond the typical angst of the American teenager. “I didn’t say that. Most dealers use something. They sell the product so they can afford to buy the product. It’s how a lot of distributors find their dealers. They find the best of the lot, trustworthy people who have something they want and something to lose. Oliver fits all that.”
“You think my brother is a drug addict?”
“I think he’s showing the signs of it. Grades going downhill, getting secretive, blackmailing people—he’s not who he was a few months ago, and you know it.”
Her lips made a hard line. She crossed her arms and shook her head as if that might shake the truth out of her ears. “I need to cancel my cards,” she said.
“What?”
“My cards. I need to cancel them. Everything was in my purse, and the purse was in the car.”
He nodded and offered her his phone. After a moment, she took it and started dialing. He went inside and came out with a bag of goodies and a receipt for gas. She was walking back and forth through the nearly empty parking lot. It was fascinating to watch her, a woman who had been so broken an hour ago that she was crying in a parking lot was now steadfastly going through a mental Rolodex of phone numbers and taking care of business. He couldn’t even remember his own phone number without his cell.
When she was done, she handed him his phone back. He handed her the plastic bag. She frowned and reached in, pulling out a candy bar and a bottle of water first. “The necessities, huh?”
“There’s more,” he said, pulling the gas nozzle off the hook and starting to fill his tank up.
“What’s this?” she asked as she began to peruse the rest of the contents. “A prepaid cell phone and sandals?”
“You were stomping around in those heels so long it was starting to make my feet hurt. Take them off, put the sandals on, and let’s talk.”
She gave him a look. It was a testament to her current state of mind that she didn’t bother to argue. She slid out of her shoes and popped on the cheap flip-flops. “And the phone?”
“You’ll need it to keep in contact with people until we get the car back. I don’t know how long it’ll be, but it might be necessary.”
“You aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?”
He shook his head and pulled out a bottle of water. The condensation was cool against his fingers as he unscrewed the top. “Nope.”
“Hard-ass,” she said without any heat.
“Ungrateful,” he responded, feeling his lips quirk in response.
He wasn’t sure who closed the distance first, her or him, but the next thing he knew their arms were around one another and their mouths were mashed against each other’s. She was so warm, so vibrant in his grasp, this woman who drove him crazy. She tasted like heaven. He slid his hand down her backside, feeling the ripeness of her cheeks against his palm. She made a hungry sound, her fingers fisting in his hair as she dragged him closer.
He wanted her, he wanted her so bad, but not like this. She might have the appearance of being put together, but she was barely holding on. Her trembling told him that much. When she broke for a breath, he put a few inches of space between them.
“It’s gotta be the last time, Finn.”
He nodded, even though he didn’t really mean it. “For now,” he amended.
She looked at him, her eyes shining and cold. “Oh?”
He placed his palm on her cheek, as gentle and light as he could manage. “Yes, for now. I want to kiss you again, Cora. I want to do a great deal more than that, too, but I want to kiss you for the rest of our lives. I know that scares you. I get that, but I’m not just going to let you run. Don’t fight with me right now. Just accept that I care.”
She swallowed hard, but she didn’t pull away from his touch. He’d take that as a victory. “We need to find Oliver.”
He nodded. “That’s what I’m going to do.”
“I’ll—”
He shook his head, already knowing what she was going to say. “I need you to go back to the apartment. He might come back there, and if he does you’ll call me. I need to go back out there and look for him, and I need to know if he was just angry and frustrated and needing to go for a drive.”
She frowned and looked away. “I don’t like it.”
He rubbed his thumb lightly over her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked up to meet his and he was lost. In that moment, he fell. Here was a woman who would never just give in to him. She would fight him every step of the way. He must be a goddamned idiot, but he loved her for it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills.
“What’s this for?”
“Whatever you might need. You just canceled all your cards, and there is nothing in your fridge. Take it, Cora.”
She blew out a breath and sighed, but she took it. It was another small victory, but where his redheaded warrior woman was concerned, even a small victory was worthwhile. He nodded and kissed her again, this one soft and gentle.
“Be safe,” he said, getting back on his refueled bike. “Call me if he comes back.”
She nodded, tucking the bills in her pocket. This time he didn’t feel half so bad as he drove away.
# # #
Cora decided to stop at the late-night taco place across the street from the apartment. It had been a very long evening, and all she wanted to do was eat food that her fitness instructor would glare at her for and watch cheesy late-night television. No, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d like to be out looking for Oliver, but Finn had made a point. Her brother might come home.
The smell of pork carnitas and corn tortillas wafted up from the dark brown bag. It should have been a beautiful night. It was cool and clear, and the moon was a big blotch of silver hanging in the sky, but all Cora could think of was her missing brother, and how her mouth still tingled with Finn’s kisses.
What was she going to do, she wondered as she crossed the empty street. Everything was so complicated. Cora was not fond of complications. She added construction of a list of life choices to her tasks to accomplish that evening and took the left turn into the parking lot of her building. She made a short futile search for her car, hoping Oliver would be there. No such luck.
“Stupid kid.” She shook her head and paused, realizing she’d have to go to the office to get a key. “Damn it.”
The laughter of kids interrupted her thoughts. It wasn’t the normal cheerful laughter of teenagers who were out late and breaking curfew. There was something…uncomfortable about it. Cora glanced to the entrance of the lot and spotted a few teenagers she hadn’t noticed before. Among them was a bright-haired blonde she recognized. Wasn’t that Britt? The girl that her brother was hung up on? Maybe.
“Hello, pretty lady.”
The words were lackluster, the tone disquieting. Her hand tightened on her bag, and she took a second long look. There were seven of them, most of them male. They all, save for one, looked to be teenagers, but no one younger than fifteen. Each of them was dressed in the same midnight blue hoodie her brother usually wore, in various states of cleanliness. They were all smirking and looking at her. It was like looking into the eyes of a hyena pack. The hairs on the back of Cora’s neck stood up.
“Hey,” the girl Cora thought was Britt said. “You’re Oliver’s big sister, aren’t you?”
“Is she?” This was from the boy who didn’t fit in. Boy might have been the wrong word. He was older than the rest, old enough that his chin sported a dark patch of hair that was in contrast to his nearly white head of hair. She was guessing the hair was bleached. His eyes sparkled as he looked her over. “God damn, I didn’t know you were going to be that hot.”
She crossed her arms, purposely putting her hand closer to the pay-as-you-go cell phone currently tucked in her pocket. “Thanks. Oliver’s not here right now.”
“Really?” the white-haired guy asked. He shoved his long fingers into his loose pockets and shook his head back and forth. His steps had a strange sort of rhythm to them, as if he was walking along a hopscotch path that only he could see. “Well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it?”
Cora resisted an urge to step back. Her skin was crawling with the sensation that something was absolutely wrong. The paper crumpled beneath her hand as she clutched it tighter. She desperately wished she had her purse. “Do you know Oliver?”
“Oh yes. We are very, very good friends.”
There was a titter of derisive amusement from the crowd of near-children behind him. Cora took a step back. If she made a mad dash for it now, she’d make it back to the relative safety of the taco place. She turned on her heel and started to move, her hand digging into her pocket for her phone. She had just wrapped her fingers around the hard plastic when she felt an arm wrap around her neck. It tightened and she stumbled. The arm hauled her backward against the slender unrelenting line of an unfamiliar body. The scent of him was sour, as if he hadn’t bothered to wash in a couple of days. She struggled as a second hand came around her.
“Get off me!” she cried out, pitching her voice as loud as she could manage. It wasn’t that late. There were still lights on. Someone might hear her.
His hand slapped over her mouth. She was all right with that. It freed up her arm. Suddenly all those little tidbits of information from her self-defense classes came rushing up from the depths of her memories. She clenched her fist tight and yanked her elbow back, simultaneously stepping on his foot and slamming her head back. She felt the sick crunch of his nose breaking against the back of her head. He released her as suddenly as he had snatched her up. She didn’t think about it—she just ran.
She had gotten all of two steps when a hand fisted itself in her hair, yanking her back again.
“You stupid…bitch.”
He whirled her in a move she didn’t entirely follow. The next thing she knew her body was pressed against his as if they were lovers, but there was nothing loving in that gaze. The bloody ruin of his busted nose was bright against the paleness of his face.
“Get the hell off me.” She shoved as hard as she could.
He barely budged. “Oh no. I was going to do this the easy way…but not anymore.”
She didn’t feel the knife at first. All she felt was a pinch in her side, no worse than bumping into a particularly stubborn counter. But it didn’t dissipate the way a bump did. It blossomed into a bright burning that threatened to blind her. She looked down. Her shirt was red. It hadn’t been red before, not that color. It stuck to her body in a way that fabric on its own shouldn’t.
“What the hell did you do!” a girl’s voice cried out. Cora was pretty sure it was Britt’s.
His hand was close to her body, a handle in his grip. It took her too long to realize it was a knife, a knife was stuck in her flesh. Pain radiated from the wound as his wrist twitched. The slow flow of blood became faster, and a drop accumulated at the hem of her top and then dripped unto the ground. She was watching another form, unable to think of anything else when she heard a very masculine shout from somewhere behind her. Maybe someone had heard her.
A shock of pain swam through her body as her attacker ripped the blade out. She collapsed forward, barely aware of the concrete against her knees. A man voice continued to shout, barely discernible over the rev of a motorcycle.
“Finn?” she gasped, feeling a man’s arms come around her.
“Sorry, dollface.”
Dollface? She blinked in confusion, tilting her head back until a man as beautiful as he was sinister took up her vision. She was dead, she was almost sure of it. There was no other reason she could think of Jace Robinson would be looking down at her.