Page 64 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

Finn’s expression doesn’t falter, but I sense the tightness in his shoulders before he tries to hide it by rotating them backwards. “You have proof?”

“No, but my gut knows it was her. She saved me twice, and I think she was involved in the warehouse incident.”

“I’ll call Aiden, tell him that I’m going to look for your sister today. I’m owed more annual leave than I can⁠—”

“No! You can’t tell him.” I climb down from the stool too quickly and wait for the stars to stop spinning in front of my eyes.

Finn is on his feet and reaching for my arms like he can see the room swaying out from under me, and I move away. “You don’t have to worry about Aiden. He’ll under⁠—”

“I don’t want Leonid to know where I am.”

“You mean you don’t want him to know that you’re with me.” Hurt flickers behind his eyes, but I don’t hold back.

“I’m not with you, Finn. I came here because I had nowhere else to go and because…”

I can’t be responsible for his feelings too, which is why I’ve never lied to him. That, and the fact that I don’t know how I feel about him, and I don’t want to give him false hope that it might eventually develop into something bigger than either of us ever envisaged.

“…because I know you’ll help me find Ivana.”

He’s quiet for what feels like an eternity. Then, “I won’t tell him if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.” I offer him a small smile that isn’t anywhere near enough to smooth out the creases between his brows but is all I’ve got right now.

“There’s something you should know though.” He doesn’t come any closer, and I hate that I’ve put this distance between us. “The woman you think is Ivana hasn’t been seen since the night the warehouse blew up.”

Finn gives me a small pistol and a dagger to carry, and we take his motorcycle to every storage unit, warehouse, and industrial estate in the city of Chicago that we can cram into one day. Riding pillion gives me an opportunity to be close to him without wondering what he wants from this.

What he wants from me.

I know he hasn’t asked for anything, but when we’re together, he speaks about love and forever and uses his Irish Gaelic words like we have a future together, when he can’t possibly know that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. He barely knows me. And he’s forgetting that I’ll never leave Ivana behind.

No matter what.

But with my cheek pressed against the back of his leather jacket, and my arms around his waist, I can give into the longing in my core that isn’t only about sex. Even if being fucked by him is the most amazing feeling in the world. There’s something about Finn that makes me wish I had a piece of my heart to give him, a piece of my heart that wasn’t destroyed by the men in black who bought us from the orphanage and didn’t care if we survived the ocean crossing or not.

Perhaps it will heal someday.

Because if it doesn’t, there can be no future for me and Finn.

There will be no tomorrow for me and Finn if Leonid or Aiden Kavanagh discovers me in his apartment, and right now, it feels as if tomorrow is all we have.

We don’t find Ivana.

We don’t find her the next day, or the day after that.

The days gather momentum and blur into one endless game of hide-and-seek where we’re the seekers wearing blindfolds, and Ivana is one step ahead of us. But still, Finn refuses to take me back to the docks because it’s the surest way for Leonid to find me.

The sickness is recurring. There is no rhyme or reason to it; some mornings, I feel nauseous before I even get out of bed, and others, I don’t feel sick until I climb off the back of Finn’s motorcycle at the end of the day and weariness consumes me. I’ve puked in a trashcan in the underground parking lot, in a bush on the side of the highway, in Finn’s guest bathroom, and behind a dumpster. At times, I feel so exhausted that I have to force myself to get out of bed and get dressed in the clothes that Finn purchased for me, but then an hour later I feel ready to take on the Petrovs with a handful of bullets and a single dagger.

My only consolation is that I’ve managed to hide it from Finn.

Then early one morning, I’m lying on my side in his bed trying to fight the dizziness making the room spin like a carousel, when his hand slips around me from behind, and he pinches my nipple between his thumb and index finger.

It’s still tender from the night before, and I clench my jaw to stop myself from crying out. I lie perfectly still, pain curling my fingers and toes into talons, as his erection swells between my ass cheeks.

“Did I mention how fucking beautiful it is waking up beside you every morning?” Finn leans over me and whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

“Several times.” I turn my face to look at him and force a smile, the world tilting sideways at the same time.