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“No, no,” I say quickly. “I’m glad. I’m more than glad. Really. It’s not that.”
“What, then?”
I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my eyebrows as though that can smooth away the tension, the reality.
“I spoke to my ex-SEAL buddy,” I tell her. “He’s a cop now, quite high ranking. He was able to do some digging and he found something that … oh, fuck, Millie, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s about Finn?” she says, her voice becoming ice-cold. The color drains from her cheeks. She grips the edge of the table. “Tell me, Markus. Just… just tell me.”
I take a deep breath. “First I want to say something if you’ll let me?”
She nods shortly, her eyes never leaving mine, a blush spreading across her face, neck, and her chest, as though she’s burning up from the inside.
“My dad was a piece of shit. He was a junkie and an abusive asshole and he made my mother’s life hell. I don’t blame her for running out after the way he treated her. But would you say that because my dad was evil, that makes me an evil bastard?”
“What?” she says, looking at me like I’m crazy. “No, of course not.”
“I want you to know that you’re incredible,” I go on. “You’re kind. You’re beautiful. You have—Jesus, Millie, you’ve just got a good soul, alright?”
“Markus, you’re scaring me,” she whispers.
“Sorry,” I growl, my body becoming stiff, ready to dismantle her pain, and any bastard who dares to cause it. “My buddy found a case that had been purposefully hidden in the files. I’m sorry, Millie – but basically, your old man was involved in organized crime. He was their accountant for a long time, but he also doubled as an enforcer and … and—”
“And what?” she hisses. “I want to know everything. I deserve that.”
I sigh darkly.
“He tortured people,” I whisper.
Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
I drag my chair around the table, wrap my arm around her, and let her rest her cheek against my shoulder.
I stroke my hands through her hair.
“So where does Finn come into this?”
“Finn was part of the same organized crime syndicate as your father. There was some internal conflict.”
“What conflict?”
“Millie, the details don’t matter, do they—”
“What conflict?”
I sigh, kissing the top of her head. “They argued over their stakes in a human trafficking operation. Things got out of hand and your father...killed two of Finn’s men. Finn then decided to get revenge. Arson. He paid the police later to cover it up and say it was a malfunctioning dryer. I’m so sorry, Millie.”
She begins to shake and cry, burying her face in my chest and gripping onto me as though she never wants to let go.
I hold her tighter, chords plucking in my chest at the sight and touch of such visceral pain from my queen, my woman, my life.
“We’re making our own family,” I tell her softly. “Me and you, our children. The past doesn’t matter. Only the future, and what we make of it. I swear to you, Millie, I’ll always be here for you. You never have to face this alone.”
She looks up and smiles shakily. “I’ve got your shirt all wet.”
I reach up and wipe her cheeks with my thumbs. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”
“Together, yeah?” she whispers.
“Together,” I say passionately.
“Okay,” she sighs, coughing back another sob. “I’m happy I know. Well, not happy. But it’s better than living in the dark. And—and I never knew them, my parents. It’s just a shock. I don’t get why Finn would find me afterward, though.”
“From what my buddy told me, he’s a sick fuck,” I say quietly. “Maybe he developed some … wait.”
“What?” Millie murmurs.
I glance at Lava, standing stone still at the door with his tail pricking the air. His head is tilted and he’s staring down the hallway at the front door.
After a moment, a low growl sounds in the back of his throat and then breaks into a deep guttural bark.
I stand and go to the window, a savage fury moving through me when I spot him emerging from the trees.
Finn Marston, a tall wide man, at least as tall as me—all puffed up in his winter jacket, his muscles inflated with either years of hard work or steroids.
I know which I’m betting on.
Behind him, stalking from the trees like jackals, six men emerge, all of them wearing jet black winter coats, and each of them as puffed up and muscle bound as Finn.
Millie appears at my side. “Oh, no. Jackie …”
Lava’s barking has become a cacophony now, his paws scraping at the front door in his desperation to get to his owner.
Jackie’s mouth is gagged and her hands are tied behind her back, one of the black coated goons pulling her along by her arm.
Finn stops next to my Chevy, staring at it for a moment. Then he turns to the house and pulls a gun from his pocket, a police issue Glock it looks like from here.
