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When I’m not buried in the job, it’s all I can think about, and even then, it’s a constant struggle.
She’s occupying all of the space in my brain, which is why I’m here at the coffee shop on my way home from Kings, trying to hide my erection while I wait for her favorite coffee to be ready.
“Finn!” The over-eager woman who took my order is now conveniently at the other end of the counter, ready to hand me my drink. Grabbing the wrapped scone from one hand and Harper’s warm drink in the other, I immediately spot a phone number on the cardboard sleeve of the drink. I set the pastry on the counter and slide the sleeve off the cup. Holding it between two fingers in her direction, and with my most serious expression, I ask, “Can I get a different sleeve, please?”
The woman’s face immediately pales in horror. Before Harper, I would have probably commended the woman’s efforts. I wouldn’t have called her. It was few and far between I called any of them. Now, though, I won’t even entertain the idea. We already have our perfect girl.
Without a word she snatches the piece of cardboard out of my hand and hands me a new one. I walk away without a backward glance.
The second I step back outside the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Not from the cool, late fall air but from years of my body being attuned to sensing any immediate threats. My eyes start scanning the streets around me, but I don’t see anything obvious. I know something’s wrong, though. I can feel it.
The stoplight at the end of the block changes, and the line of traffic starts creeping forward. The large city bus that’s directly across from me moves, and it’s then that I see him. Standing there on the sidewalk across the street with his hands in a wool peacoat, his smile wicked, like the devil who’s finally free from the depths of hell. The man who viciously altered the course of my life. The man who took the two people who loved me most in this world. That man that’s selfishly out to destroy the woman that I love.
Declan fucking Whelan.
Declan Whelan is in New York. In my fucking city. Standing no more than twenty yards away from me, and yet neither of us move. Both of us locked in a stare so intense it could burst the other into flames if we let it.
A city garbage truck crosses in front of my path, and just as ominously as he appeared in front of me, by the time the truck passes, he’s gone.
Fear of the unknown and the intense urge to get back to my family finally makes my feet move. I have to get back to the apartment. I need to see all of them with my own eyes, see Harper. I need to make sure they’re all okay.
He can’t take anyone else from me.
My grip on the steering wheel is lethal as I speed toward the apartment. The elevator ride from the garage to the top floor feels like an eternity. As each floor passes, uncontrollable anger, fear, and lack of control coursing through me grows. And by the time the door opens to our penthouse, it feels like I’ll explode if I don’t find a way to let it out.
“Harper!” I yell at the top of my lungs as I quickly set the items from the coffee shop on the kitchen counter. She doesn’t answer as I sprint down the hallway toward her room. Throwing open her door, I find the room empty. I run right into Mac’s room, finding his empty as well.
They should be back by now. They should be back.
“Harper! Mac!” Silence is the only thing that follows.
Where are they? They should be back.
As I run back through the kitchen I yank the tie off from around my neck, feeling like I can’t breathe.
He doesn’t have her, Finn. Mac wouldn’t let him touch her.
Ronan comes running out of his office on the other side of the kitchen like his ass is on fire, a panicked look in his eyes.
“Finn? What the fuck is going on?”
“Ronan. Where are they? Where are Harper and Mac? They should be back by now. Where are they?” My voice rises in volume and desperation with every word I speak.
I don’t ever lose control like this. My emotions are a carefully kept mask. But right now, I couldn’t hide my desperation if my life depended on it.
“They should be here any minute. Mac called just before you got here.”
I start rapidly pacing in front of him, rubbing the tightness in my chest with my fist.
“Finn, what’s going on?” Ronan’s voice remains calm, but I can tell by the tightness in his jaw he’s trying not to rise to my level of panic.
“I saw him, Ronan. He was right there.” The memory of his face makes me double over. I put my hands on my knees and try to get my breathing under control.
Ronan grabs my face in his hands, forcing me to stand upright and look him in the eyes. “Who, Finn? Who did you see?”
“Declan.”
His name rings through the apartment like a gunshot. Ronan drops his hands from my face to the tops of my shoulders. “Did you just say you saw Declan Whelan?”
