Page 68 of Protecting His Finch

I can’t say anything. Finley’s eyes race across my face. I know she’s doing the same thing I am.

We’re committing each other to memory. Those soft, intelligent eyes. The strength in her eyebrows. Those lips I kissed, over and over.

If this is the last time I see her, I want to drink her in. All of her.

She doesn’t say anything. But she doesn’t have to.

I know every word trapped behind those lips.

Then Raphael winds his arm around her and pulls her away from me. “Come, darling. We have a plane to catch.”

Finley looks over his shoulder back at me. “You won’t hurt him,” she says. “You won’t kill him. Right? You promise.”

“I promise,” Raphael says. Then, as he exits, he pats one of his thugs twice on the shoulder.

I close my eyes. Because I’ve been one of those thugs. I know the code.

Twice. Means end him.

The door closes. I hear a car start up. Then they’re gone.

And it’s just me, the thugs, and their guns.

I open my eyes. Thug #1 rips the cloth out of my mouth. Thug #2 cocks his revolver.

“Any last words?” Thug #2 asks.

I wet my lips. They’re dry, cottony. “Yeah. This is your lucky day.”

They exchange a glance. “How’s that?”

“I promised Finley I’d never kill again.”

They laugh. “You hear this guy? He’s tied up, thinking he can threaten us.”

He puts his gun to the side of my head. “Let’s finish this.”

And that’s where he makes his mistake.

Because he’s far too close to me.

I throw my head against Thug #2’s head, and it drives him off-balance.

The headache is splitting, but it might save my life.

I only have a second before he recovers. In an instant, I push my toes against the floor. The chair rocks back, and I throw all my weight forward.

I’m still bound awkwardly to the chair, hunched, but at least my feet are on the ground now.

Thug #1 comes at me, and I swing myself around. I use the chair as a weapon, and it slams against him and against the wall. The entire chair cracks, the back splinters, and—yes. My arms come free.

The rope has lost slack. I manage to yank it from my arms just in time. Thug #2 launches toward me, and this time, I’m ready. I throw the rope around his throat, swing his body against mine, and pull.

He struggles. He gulps and fires his gun, but it only empties bullets into the wall. He fights me. Claws at me. But I use all the strength in my body to hang on to him.

Eventually, he can’t hold on. He turns heavy in my arms and loses consciousness.

I release him. Both men are slumped to the floor, passed out.

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