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He snorts. “I don’t miss.” The wrapping of the tape once again becomes too tight. “I purposely missed the target.” He shoves himself back into his chair, running his hand through his hair.
I lean forward, my good hand cupping his face. “You did it to protect me, so you wouldn’t shoot me.”
His hand grips my arm hard enough to make my skin turn white as he moves my hand off his face. “That won’t help either of us when he kills you.” He stands, pushing me away. “Fuck!” he shouts. “I can’t even properly bandage you with the headspace I’m in.” He begins to undo the tape.
“First off, no one is dying. You need to let go of your fear and trust that I can take care of myself.”
“How did that go?” he sneers. I watch him go get the needle and thread. I guess I’m getting stitches now. His fingers tenderly touch my old scar. It’s faded over the years, but it seems to call to him.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” His fingers stop moving, and his eyes lock on mine. “This isn’t my first wound. Unlike you, I welcome my scars as badges of strength.” My hand slides down his arm, his grip becoming more tender. I place my palm on his chest, where his largest tattoo covers most of his skin.
His heart beats under me, and neither of us looks away from each other. My pulse speeds up to match each of the thumps against my hand.
“Why was one of my security guys at your safe house?” I ask.
His heartbeat picks up. “You’re not an easy girl to let go.”
“Yet, you did.”
He shakes his head. “I tried, but I couldn’t. I have always made sure you stayed safe. But I had to keep my distance. People aren’t wrong about what they say about me.”
“When will you understand I stopped believing in monsters and curses before you even considered yourself one?”
“We both know it has nothing to do with believing, but with the reality of who I am. I am not a nice person. I enjoy killing.”
I want to kiss Fin. He’s blind to who he really is. He’s allowed other people’s perception of him to shape his beliefs.
“If I were a nicer person, I wouldn’t have tried to poison you with vodka. I wouldn’t have thought about killing you instead of shooting off your crown. I’m not the girl you remember. I wasn’t even her when you stopped being my friend. She was lost a long time ago,” I confess.
It would be so easy to let him in. Tell him everything. But my heart is afraid he’ll stomp on it again—or worse, I’ll be the one to betray him once again. Afraid he can read my thoughts, I look away, severing our connection. My hand drops from his chest, and I take the needle and thread from the table. I weave my own stitches, each poke another reminder I should keep my heart protected.
“You need to realize I had a life before you showed back up. I can’t stop being me. I have an errand I need to do, but you can’t come with me.” I loop the thread to tie it off.
He makes a growling sound.
“You can either let me go, or I can poison you again?” Thick tension swirls around us. Fin never brings up the drugging incident. We both know it could have gone horribly wrong. My head comes up now that my stitches are done.
“I’ll drive you where you need to go,” he commands. My mouth opens to argue, but his fingers cover my lips. “I’m not budging on this.”
“You’renotgoinginthere by yourself.” Fin puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt.
I lean over and gently brush my lips over the corner of his mouth. “I appreciate your concern, but you have no choice in this.” He eyes the building ahead of us suspiciously. I press another kiss to the other corner of his lips.
“You know I hate secrets. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what I’m up against,” he says. I can’t tell him about my sister yet. I’m not ready to give up that control.
I pull back, taking his hand in mine. “We need to trust each other. I promise you there is no risk. I’ll be fifteen minutes.”
He glares at me, and his facial features show he doesn’t want to concede.
“Please,” I add.
Taking my hand, he brings it up to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “This goes against my better judgment. But I’ll trust you.”
I want to open up to him. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I have to remind myself this is Katrina’s secret. It would be unfair to include anyone other than the two of us.
“Thank you.”
He grips the back of my neck and brings me in close. He kisses me gently, the softness of his lips tickling me. It causes a shiver to dance down my body. My fingers feather through his hair, trying to deepen the kiss, and his tongue glides firmly into my mouth as I willingly open. Our chests press against each other, and my hips swivel to get closer to him.
