AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But why would I?
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have. It was fucked up and cruel.” I enunciate each word clearly to make sure he knows what I’m asking of him: Own up to your shit.
The emotion on his face shutters closed, tucking everything away neatly behind a mask of cold apathy. A defense mechanism, but I see through it. He nods and heads downstairs and out the door.
There’s a brief moment when I feel bad. The deep programming all women have to protect men’s emotions even at the expense of your own. I shove that feeling down, becausefuck that.
Last night may have changed things, but it didn’t fix things.
After he leaves, I check my phone to find a dozen missed calls from my father. My heart drops to my stomach. There’s a single text. I read it, my blood going cold.
Euphemia. I won’t tolerate another disappointment.
I delete the text and all the missed call notifications. I don’t trust Finn not to go through my phone. My father must be getting desperate to be so reckless and text me so blatantly, without any precautions.
I slip on a pair of underwear and Finn’s big t-shirt, some band I’ve never heard of on the front. It smells like him and rather than soothe me, it makes me want to cry on the heels of my father’s message.
Honesty and loyalty.
That’s all he’s asked of me.
I wander over to my makeshift studio after making a pot of coffee. Clutching the warm mug in my hands, I sit on the stool and look out the window.
It’s humbling looking out there, seeing the dense forest and knowing all the riches and masterpieces that are hidden away under it. So much history, so much talent. Knowing that the cache was the start of all this and it’s so close to my fingertips.
I return my attention to the canvas in front of me, rolling all these thoughts in my mind.
I hop off the stool and go to my luggage. It takes a little digging, but finally I find it: a burner cell phone I packed for situations just like this.
I dial and listen to it ring.
“Oui, allo?”
“Linnie, it’s Effie…I have a job for you.”
Finn
It feels like my lungs are full of glass. My fingers tap on the stick shift like a fucking maniac. As if anything can rid me of the sick, self-hatred I felt seeing Effie’s face when I mentioned Calvin. Fucking tore a hole in my chest.
I’m pushing ninety miles per hour, and it doesn’t feel enough. Nothing will be fast enough to outrun this feeling.
Guilt fucking sucks.
I much preferred not caring, not feeling, not having my ability to fucking breathe tied to the emotions of another person.
I called Roman as soon as I left the barn, and he’s sending soldiers to Bartlett Farms. Then Calvin and told him to turn back. Now I have one last call to make, and it makes my palms sweat.
I ring Stella. When she doesn’t answer, I give the Den’s office number a try. They open in half an hour, so she’s probably there.
“What?” Cash’s gruff voice answers, and my fingers tighten, annoyed, around the wheel.
“Stella there?”
“Yeah—Oh fuck, baby, just like that—”
“Fucking hell, Cash! Stop picking up when you’re balls deep in pussy!” I’m about to hang up, but before I do, I shout, “Tell Stella to call me, you sick motherfucker.”
When I’m twenty minutes out, I answer the phone to Stella’s cheery, “Finneas.”
