Chapter EIGHTEEN

SOMETHING HAD definitely changed, and it was more than the sex. It was as if peeling off that layer, that shield they’d both been using to hide their sexuality, gave Mitch permission to feel the way he did. No longer did he fantasize about an unattainable straight guy; he was lusting after someone who reciprocated his feelings. The sex meant the glances were no longer furtive. They were open and admiring. Mitch filled with warmth as Finn’s hand lingered on his shoulder as he passed Mitch a mug of coffee before sitting on the other end of the couch.

The problem was the smile Finn directed his way tightened Mitch’s chest in a way Mitch hadn’t felt for a long time, not since the early days with Pete. That warmth, that glow, was something he didn’t think he’d feel again. He basked in the feeling for a moment, returning Finn’s smile and watching him over the rim of his coffee mug.

The color had returned to Finn’s cheeks, and his eyes were clear, no longer shadowed by the pain that haunted him over the last couple of days. The rest—all those hours of sleep—had done him a world of good, and Mitch was glad he told Rocky Finn was out of action, no matter how hard Rocky pushed for Finn to get his arse into CMC.

Thoughts of Rocky quickly dowsed the happiness. The cold, hard truth was Finn was wrapped up in the whole goddamned business and was just as much part of the investigation as Rocky.

Oh Jesus, what the hell was I thinking?

The urge to stand, to leave the room and go outside, was strong. What he should be doing was putting some distance between the two of them, not enjoying a morning coffee after a night spent wrapped in each other’s arms. Mitch itched to have a cigarette, a hit of nicotine to calm him down, but he pushed aside the knowledge there was a pack in the car.

Finn’s brow crinkled as he studied Mitch, and the emotions were overwhelming. Guilt, regret, longing—Mitch was sure they were written all over his face. He ducked his head and gulped at his coffee, hoping Finn hadn’t seen the change in his expression. Maybe if he just shoved away the knowledge of who Finn was, made the most of this last day away from the investigation, and allowed himself to dream. Tomorrow he could worry about motorcycle clubs and drugs and violence. Today he wanted to pretend none of that existed.

“Are you okay?”

Mitch flicked his gaze to Finn. “What? Yeah, sure. Just thinking.”

“Penny for them.”

“Just work. Nothing I want to talk about now.”

Finn groaned. “Work. Don’t remind me.” He sat up straighter. “Fuck!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Rocky. I haven’t checked in since we got back from the pub on Monday night. He’ll be going off his rocker. I’m surprised he hasn’t been here bashing down the door.”

Mitch chuckled. “That was a highly likely scenario, but luckily I got in contact with him before it came to that. I called him on Tuesday morning and let him know you were sick.”

“Thanks.” Finn furrowed his brow. “And he was happy for me to take all this time off?”

Mitch snorted. “Not exactly.”

“So am I in for it when I get back, then? Or is Rocky going to be appearing at any minute?”

“I explained it was a migraine and you’d need a few days to recover, that you wouldn’t be any use to anyone, not while you were in pain, and that it’d take a day or two to regain your strength.”

Finn leaned back against the couch cushions, frown disappearing and his features smoothing. “I guess I owe you one.”

“I’ll add it to your tab.” Mitch winked.

“Seriously, though, thanks for sticking up for me with Rocky. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. He can be a complete arsehole. I’m surprised he didn’t make you go in without me.”

“I wasn’t leaving you here alone, so it wouldn’t have mattered what he said, anyway.”

Fuck, where did that come from? The last thing Mitch could afford to do was jeopardize the operation. If Rocky said “jump,” then Mitch should be asking how high, not showing the guy the virtual finger. “Lucky it didn’t come to that. Maybe he cares about you more than you think?”

Finn rolled his eyes. “That’ll be the day. Rocky—” He then seemed to catch himself and stopped whatever he was going to say. “Enough about Rocky. Tell me, are you a migraine sufferer too?”

“Huh?” Mitch raised a brow.

“I assumed you must get migraines. You know a lot about them, the recovery and so on.”

“Oh, no. Thank Christ I’ve never experienced one of those fuckers. I wouldn’t wish one on my worst enemy.”

“So how did you know how to deal with it?”

Mitch smiled. “That was easy. First I checked the net and found out whatever I could, and then when I thought it was safe to leave you, I went to the chemist to get the script filled. I asked the pharmacist there, and she gave me some additional advice.”

Finn looked at him with a strange expression, like he was trying to figure something out. “Another one for the tab, then?”

“You’re going to owe me big-time. But who’s counting?” Mitch laughed. He drank the last of his coffee and put his empty mug on the table. “What do you want to do today? How about we watch a movie, or do you feel like going for a walk?”

Finn brightened, the smile on his face making Mitch smile in return. “A walk sounds awesome. I’ve been cooped up in here for days. You too. You must be dying to get out in the fresh air.”

I’d be happy to stay indoors for another week, even longer, if it meant I could stay here with you.

Mitch shook his head to get rid of the ridiculous thoughts. He picked up his mug and stood, holding out his hand for Finn’s mug. “I’ll take care of these, then get some shoes. Meet you back here in five.”

The smile on Finn’s face reached all the way to his eyes, and the way he hurried from the room, obviously eager to head outside, made Mitch glad he’d agreed to the walk. A little of the earlier warmth returned, and he knew he had a stupid grin on his face as he headed to the kitchen.

THE SUBURB where Finn grew up was on the outskirts of Sydney. It was a semirural area with a combination of residential houses, large properties, and market gardens, and a quieter pace than the city. Finn’s family home was on a large plot of land—not large enough for agriculture, but large enough that the nearest neighbors weren’t within shouting distance. The house was pretty much like most of the homes in the area. Built over fifty years ago, it was single story, constructed of weatherboard, with a terra-cotta-tiled roof. It didn’t stand out from the other houses on the road, all of them in some state of disrepair, although some were better maintained than others.

“What was it like growing up here?” Mitch asked as they walked side by side down the road.

Finn looked around him. Memories flooded back, not all of them bad, but very few of them good. He played it safe and stayed on neutral territory, not trusting himself to delve too deeply into his childhood.

“I liked school. I went to the local public school. It’s not too far from here. Just another couple of kilometers up the road.”

“And when you weren’t at school?”

I did anything I could to stay away from the house. “I used to ride my bike a lot. Played some sport, mainly soccer. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You rode a bike when you were kid?” Mitch’s tone was disbelieving.

Finn laughed and nudged Mitch’s shoulder. “A push-bike, you idiot. Not a motorbike. Although I did have a PeeWee.”

“Oh.” Finn could almost swear Mitch was blushing, but maybe he’d give him the benefit of the doubt and attribute the slight flush to the walk and the heat of the day.

“Yeah, I spent a lot of time riding. To and from school, down to the creek. To the shops you found the other day.”

“And what about friends?”

“I… ah….” His throat felt thick, the memories causing a lump in his throat. His voice caught. Stupid! He reprimanded himself for letting the emotions get the better of him. He knew better than to give in to those old feelings, had thought he was beyond all that. He blinked at the sudden moisture in his eyes.

Mitch placed a hand on his arm, and Finn became aware he’d stopped walking.

“Finn?”

“Sorry.” The flood of embarrassment was acute. “I don’t often think of the past.”

“And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking you so many personal questions.”

Unexpectedly he had the desire to tell Mitch how he was feeling. He wanted Mitch to know him—the real him. Not the person he tried to display to the world.

“It’s okay.” He took a deep breath. “And I’m fine now, honestly. I just hated growing up here.”

“You don’t like the area?” Mitch tilted his head as he looked at Finn. Finn could see himself reflected in Mitch’s sunglasses, and it was somehow easier to talk without seeing his eyes properly.

“I liked the area fine. Dad did too. It suited him to blend in to the neighborhood, to seem no different to anyone else. But people knew. We had people coming and going at all hours, most of them arriving on noisy-as-shit Harleys. Everyone within a hundred miles knew this was where the Fury’s president lived. Parents warned all their kids to stay away from the house—hell, to stay away from the street.”

“And that included you?” Mitch’s tone was quiet, his eyes soft.

“Yeah,” Finn whispered and dropped his gaze. Mitch squeezed Finn’s shoulder. Finn forced himself to raise his eyes and plastered on a smile, but he hated the thought of Mitch pitying him. He shook off Mitch’s arm and started walking again, keeping his voice light as he continued. “But the one good thing that came out of it was all the time I spent at school and the library. All those hours spent studying meant I got to go to university.”

“I’m sure it was more than just the study. I’m sure there was some intelligence at play too.” Mitch’s tone was teasing.

Finn laughed. “Thank God I didn’t take after Rocky.”

“Rocky’s not intelligent?” Mitch asked.

Finn thought for a moment. “I’m not saying he’s not smart. But it’s like there are other elements of his personality that drive him to make decisions that aren’t….” His voice drifted off, unsure how to communicate about his brother.

“Aren’t?” Mitch prompted.

“Decisions that aren’t the best for him or the club, I guess. Take his house, for example. Owning a place like that, showing off how much money he has, hanging with the guys in public places, it’s like waving a red flag. Dad would never have done that. He blended in. He wasn’t about public appearances, where that seems to be all that matters to Rocky. He wants to be seen as successful and powerful, but that’s the very thing that will lead to his undoing. Dad had power and respect and didn’t need to show off to earn it.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

Finn nodded at Mitch, then focused back on the road in front. It felt cathartic to talk to someone about this stuff, things he’d kept bottled up for so long. He had no idea why he wanted to unload on Mitch, but he did. Maybe it was because Mitch had shown a real interest in him above and beyond the sex.

“Back in the early days of the club, it was different. The Furies were all about the brotherhood. There was a level of pride and mateship. There was a shitload of drinking and smoking weed, and the guys got into trouble, and I’m not saying it was always 100 percent aboveboard, but it wasn’t like it is today. It was more…. It was less hard-core.” He drifted off into thoughts of his dad. “It was a shock when Dad died, but such a relief when Carl took over.” He turned his head and looked at Mitch, who smiled back with so much openness. “He’s the one who encouraged me to go to uni in Melbourne.”

“You got on with Carl?”

The question made Finn grin. “Carl was like a second father. He was ten years older and he kept an eye out for me. Running interference, that type of stuff.”

They rounded the corner, Mitch nudging him to step onto the edge of the road when the longer grass made it difficult to stick to the verge. Out here there was no curb and guttering, and Finn’s heart fluttered as Mitch made sure he was on secure footing.

“What do you mean? What sort of interference?”

“Let’s just say that Rocky was a bully, even back then. He never let anything or anyone stop him from getting what he wanted.”

“He hurt you?”

Finn glanced at Mitch and gave a small nod. Mitch immediately stopped walking and reached for Finn’s hand. His grip was warm as he squeezed Finn’s fingers. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that as a kid, not the bullying, and especially not at the hand of your own brother.”

Finn bit back a retort. It wasn’t Mitch’s fault he allowed Rocky to still push him around. “Thanks, but what’s past is past.” If only that were true.

“I’m glad you had Carl to keep Rocky in check.” Mitch’s words and the obvious concern in his voice and touch alleviated some of the darkness thinking about Rocky brought. “I’m just sorry Carl isn’t here to do that anymore.” Finn nodded and made to turn away, but Mitch pulled him back to face him. “If there’s ever anything I can do, if you need anything….”

It was now Mitch’s turn to have his words die on his tongue. Did he regret what he was offering, or did he realize the futility of it? Mitch held his gaze as if trying to reassure Finn of his best intentions. But what could he do? Nothing. There was nothing anyone could do to protect him from Rocky. His dad hadn’t been able to, and neither had Carl. Hell, Carl couldn’t even save himself. Finn bit back a nervous laugh. So what chance did Mitch have? Finn knew he needed to stand on his own two feet and do whatever he could to end Rocky’s reign of terror.

But as Mitch gripped his hand and spoke with so much sincerity, Finn allowed himself to pretend for a moment things would be different now he had Mitch on his side.