Page 9 of Protecting His Finch

Yes. Only after your family killed my family.

These are details I leave buttoned behind my lips. I smile instead.

“My life was forever changed the day you entered it,” Raphael says. “You were like a sister. And then like more than a sister. Like a friend. But more than a friend.”

Where is he going with this? My fake smile is starting to hurt. Where ever he intends to land with this speech, I need him to get there faster.

“Which is why, today, on your birthday…in front of our friends…I ask you this…”

And then Raphael does something insane.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small box, and opens it up. There’s a ring in it, a diamond in the center.

“Will you marry me?”

6

ARCHER

I’ve brushed up against death a couple of times in my life.

My closest call was in Iraq. I’d been in a building when a bomb went off and gotten trapped under the rubble. For six hours, I couldn’t do anything but bleed out. I should’ve died. But someone found me instead.

This feels a lot like that.

The out-of-body sensation of being pinned in place, watching the rest of the world play out, feeling my life drain from me, and knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

All I can do is what I’m trained to do. Stay put and watch.

As this blond little shit proposes to her.

He’s not even on one knee. He just holds the box open, like she’s lucky to be receiving it. Into the microphone, he asks her, “Will you be my little finch forever?”

Bile climbs my throat and burns. I swallow it back.

This rage is volcanic, and it’s taking everything in me to keep myself from launching at him.

The music has stopped playing, the dancers have stopped dancing; everyone has their sights aimed at Finley and Raphael in the center of the room.

Finley looks just as shocked as I feel. Her mouth is open, her lips in a perfect O. She looks at the box, and at Raphael, and then back at the box again.

We’re all waiting to see what she says. Hanging on that one little word.

But no sound comes out.

Raphael’s smile twitches uncomfortably. “Finley,” he says, lowly muffled. “Say something.”

Suddenly, she comes back to life. She blinks at him, then says, “I need some air.”

That’s it. Just like that, she turns and quickly pushes her way through the double doors, which lead to the back exit.

Relief fizzles through my blood. Good girl.

Meanwhile, Raphael’s mouth draws into a sneer. He waves to the DJ and barks at him, “Music!”

It’s as though he’s given the room a tracheotomy and, finally, everyone can breathe.

Immediately, the music starts up again, and just like that, the club is dancing, swaying, chattering as though nothing ever happened.

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