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There’s a knock on the bedroom door. I have only a moment to think about the irony of someone knocking in their own home before I hear Finn’s voice. I try to ignore the flock of butterflies that rushes through my stomach at the sound of it.
“Asha? Are you awake?”
“Yes.” Even that small word hurts my mouth. The door cracks open a moment later, and Finn steps in, a bowl balanced in one hand and a cup in the other. His gaze sweeps over me, full of appraising worry, and he walks over to the bedside table, setting down what I now see is a bowl of tomato soup and a cup of water.
“Wasn’t sure what you’d be able to manage,” he says gruffly, sitting down slowly on the edge of the bed. His eyes trail over my face again, down to my t-shirt, and I remember with a flush of mingled embarrassment and strange pleasure that I’m wearing his clothes.
It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to bed wearing a man’s t-shirt. The last time—
A different kind of pain lances through me, and I close my eyes briefly.
“Hey.” Finn’s fingers touch the back of my hand. “If you want more sleep—”
“No, I’ve slept enough. I want to go home—”
“You really shouldn’t, not yet—”
“I was about to say that I can’t yet.” I cut him off, my voice hardening a little. “Although I’d hope that you would listen to me and do what I ask, if I insisted. But I don’t want them seeing where my home is, if anyone is watching me.”
“I’m as certain as I can be that no one is,” Finn says carefully. “And I’m not trying to undermine your agency in all of this, Asha. I promise you that. But if you’ll trust me, I also promise that I’m trying to make sure you’re kept safe as best as I can. Especially since—”
He trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish the sentence for me to know what it was that he was going to say. He feels like this is his fault—of course he does. He asked me to take this job, he set it up, he planned all of this. And yet, I still don’t feel that he’s to blame for it.
“I didn’t have to agree to do this,” I tell him as gently as I can. “Don’t blame yourself, Finn; it’ll just get in the way of figuring out what’s really important.”
He gives me a tight, sad smile. “And what’s that, Asha?”
“You and Nikolai and Theo deciding how you’re going to lay Matvei low.”
Finn’s smile eases a little. “We’re on the same page about that, lass.” His fingers rub gently over the back of my hand. “And I want you to stay here as long as you need, until you’re better and you feel safe. I’ve got no expectations other than that,” he adds quickly. “Whatever you need, lass, you have it. No strings.”
There’s a kindness in his voice that I haven’t heard from anyone in a long time, and I realize as I look up at him that he’s being genuine. There’s no ploy here, no game to try to get me to fuck him if I stay here long enough. Just a soft look in his eyes that tells me he wants to take care of me—and it absolutely terrifies me.
I can’t fall in love with this man. I can’t. I can’t do this again.
My chest cramps with the pain of remembered loss, and I slip my hand free of Finn’s, knotting my fingers together in my lap. I can see how clearly he cares for me—I care about him, too. This could be the start of something that would turn into more—if we let it.
I reach for the glass of water, carefully lifting it to my mouth and trying not to wince when the cool glass touches my lips. “Did you sleep at all?” I ask, and Finn’s mouth twists wryly. I can see the answer to my question in the shadows under his eyes, but I want him to know that I thought about it.
“A little. Mostly kept an eye on you. And then went to deal with the car I stole to bring you back here. Had to clean it and then leave it somewhere that it’d be less likely to be traced back to me.”
“What about your bike?” I hadn’t thought about it until just that moment, but I realize that there was no way Finn could have brought me back on it. I wouldn’t have been capable of hanging on to him.
“Ah, well—” Finn’s face takes on a slightly darker expression. “No help for that, lass. I can’t risk going back there to retrieve it, and likely, they’ve trashed it already anyway. Don’t worry,” he adds quickly, seeing the expression on my face. “I won’t say it doesn’t hurt. I’ve got an attachment to it, but she wasn’t my only bike. I’ve got another one I like just about as well, and it’s time I put a little more love into it anyway.”
“You’re full of shit,” I tell him frankly. “And I’m sorry. I know what it must mean to you, losing your motorcycle over—”
“How do you know that, lass?” Finn asks suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “Wasn’t aware you were so familiar with how a man might feel about his ride.”
My stomach tightens instantly. I hadn’t thought about it before I spoke, hadn’t thought about what questions about my past that might raise for Finn. I’d just wanted him to know I understood, and I let my mouth run away with me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I set the glass down, reaching for the soup in an attempt to placate him. “I just figured something like that probably mattered to you.”
“Mm.” Finn gives me a curious look, but he drops it. I’m not surewhyhe drops it, exactly—he’s been more than willing to pry in the past—but maybe it’s something in my expression that makes him not press me any further. “I had to talk to Theo, too,” he continues. “He knows about what I’ve had you doing, lass. He and Nikolai want to talk to you as soon as you’re feeling better. Have a meeting about what happened and what comes next, if you’re alright with that.”
“And if I’m not?” I look at him curiously, wondering what he’ll say.
“Well—” Finn shrugs. “I imagine they wouldn’t be all too pleased about it, but I’d make sure that they didn’t hassle you. If you want nothing more to do with any of this, not even a debriefing, then that’s how it’ll be. And I wouldn’t blame you, honestly. After—” he trails off, but his gaze slides over my face and neck, and I know what he’s thinking.
