"Maybe she would like to have another woman around. You probably understand things I never will."
Katya smiled. "I will talk to Lila. What she went through is like what I did. I know she is in pain, and she needs our help, I think." Then she turned soft eyes to her husband. "When I had that pain. You helped me. We can help her."
Liam felt his heart swell and he pulled her onto his lap, her sleight frame fitting against his perfectly. His voice was gruff. "I’m so proud of you, baby. The way you’ve healed. All I did was give you a place and the time to do it."
"No," she corrected. "You gave me love. That is what Lila has not had. And we must show her that even though Cian is not here, we can love her. It is love that heals."
Liam held his own love and marveled yet again at how far this woman had come in two short years. She was the living proof that everything he’d done, every sacrifice he’d made, was worth it. She was his greatest achievement in life, and he gave thanks for her every single day.
* * *
On Saturday mornings, Keira often went to the office after taking a run and allowing herself the indulgence of a bagel and mocha latte at the Chicago Bagel Authority. This Saturday, she strode into the bullpen of the detectives’ desks post-bagel, with wet hair, wearing a pair of track pants and a CPD sweatshirt after showering in the police gym locker room in the basement.
"Watson," a fellow detective said, tipping his chin at her as he escorted what looked to be a hooker in handcuffs between desks, and into a nearby interrogation room.
"Morning, Gary," she said with a smirk. "Having a special breakfast?"
He wrinkled his nose and the hooker swore a blue streak, pontificating on what it would take to convince her to touch Gary’s dick—hint, it involved torture, and a million dollars.
"Thankfully, I ate at home," Gary said, shoving the hooker into the interrogation room. "But now I get to find out what Delilah, here, knows about her pimp’s involvement in a homicide last week."
The hooker started her caterwauling again and Keira chuckled as Gary shut the door on his charming guest.
Sitting at her desk, Keira switched on her computer and typed in her password. The CPD shield popped up on the screen, followed by her desktop, a conglomeration of national and international police databases, CPD internal drives, and her email account.
She opened the email first, expecting the usual assortment of items from public defenders and the district attorney regarding ongoing cases, as well as CPD human resources notices, and the occasional spam that made it through the CPD filters.
As she scrolled through the usual items, something unfamiliar caught her attention.
From: QueenDD
Subject: The King.
Keira clicked on the message and watched as it opened. It contained only three lines.
The King will be leaving soon and one of the princes needs you. Come to Darwin’s Coffeehouse tomorrow at noon. Trust in what you feel, not in what you’ve been told.
The Queen.
Keira stared at the cryptic message. She pulled up the GPS for Chicago, and typed in the unfamiliar name, finding it near Navy Pier at the waterfront.
The King…the Queen…princes. She began mentally flipping through her cases, one at a time, trying to find any connection to kings, queens, princes, or the coffee shop. When nothing was immediately obvious, she sighed and opened up the CPD drive. It was going to be a very long day if she had to dig through every file she’d ever touched. She could only hope she came across something sooner than later.
* * *
Keira’s gaze scanned the coffee shop, searching for anyone familiar, as well as anything that might be a threat. A gaggle of high school girls took up two tables in the far corner, phones out, ponytails bobbing as they gossiped and giggled.
At the window was a long bar-height table with various millennials working on laptops, none of whom looked even remotely suspicious.
An older woman with her little granddaughter stood waiting at the counter to pick up an order, and the handful of other tables were either empty or filled with innocuous-looking couples, and one golden retriever wearing an orange vest that read, Therapy Dog.
She prayed no one was planning to attack her in the midst of all this, there were far too many vulnerable civilians. Her gun in its shoulder holster felt solid beneath her arm, and she took note of the back door at the end of the hall to the bathrooms while she made her way to the counter.
"A medium latte," she told the barista, pulling her wallet out of her jacket pocket.
"Maybe I can get that for you," a deep voice said behind her left shoulder.
Keira froze. Her heart raced as she blinked once. Slowly she turned, her breath stopped, eyes wide, all her senses on high alert.
"Hi," he murmured, his gaze scanning her face as if he’d found something he’d been looking for.
"Finn."
Behind her, she heard the barista, but it was as if the voice came from miles away. "Can I get you anything, Sir?"
Finn smiled at her softly while he answered. "No. Just her latte." He reached past Keira to hand the girl some cash. "Can we sit down?" he asked Keira.
She nodded mutely, her breath still trying to catch up with her heartbeat, and followed him to the darkest corner table in the shop.
He pulled out her chair and she more collapsed than really sat.
He sat across from her and they simply stared at one another for a moment.
"You know, you could have just told me you wanted to see me," he said finally, one brow raised. "Kind of freaked me out with such a cryptic message."
She was so knocked back by the green of his eyes, she could hardly formulate a thought. Had they always been that shade? And his hair. It was shorter than the last time she’d seen him, the strands artfully mussed, as if a woman had run her fingers through it. Hell, Keira realized, maybe one had. Recently.
"What?" she finally managed to ask.
"If you knew how to find me, why didn’t you just say you wanted to see me?" he repeated.
"I didn’t know how to find you."
He stiffened. "It wasn’t you who told me to come here today?"
A feeling of nausea rolled through her. "Oh God," she whispered.
Finn’s gaze began to scan the room. "Fuck. We need to get out of here."
"Out the back," she murmured, already standing. "My car is mid-block straight to the right."
"You first," he said without changing his neutral expression.
They moved as only two people used to hiding, escaping, hunting and being hunted could, and three minutes later they were both seated in her CPD car, heading away from the coffee shop, taking a winding route while Finn watched behind them.
"I don’t see anyone," he told her.
"Me either. And I don’t understand what’s going on."
He told her about the message he’d received, and she explained the email she’d gotten.
"Turn up here," he told her.
She followed his instructions and soon found herself standing in the tiny lobby of the ACME hotel. To the right was the front desk, displays of hotel t-shirts and coffee mugs in the windows. To the left was the hotel’s breakfast spot, Westown Bakery. And straight ahead was the Berkshire Room, still a popular spot with twenty-somethings and now Chance the Rapper, as well.
"Not really what I’d picture as your kind of place," she said as they stood waiting for the elevators.
"It’s small, limited access, and nowhere near MacFarlane territory, I figured it was a safer bet than some other choices. I’ve been gone two years, the MacFarlane properties have all been seized by the Feds and I sure as hell can’t show up at my mother’s house, drawing whoever invited me here straight to her."
Keira simply nodded and stepped into the elevator as he gestured for her to go first. Inside, she suddenly felt warm and awkward. The car was tiny, like the lobby, and covered in old album covers. Funky. A touch grungy. Meanwhile, Finn was big, his chest broader tha
n she remembered, his biceps showing through the thin Henley he wore with a pair of faded jeans.
They reached Finn’s floor and took two sharp rights to reach his suite at the end of a short hallway. He waved the card key in front of the lock, then held up a finger to have her wait as he entered and took a look around. She tried not to be irritated that he’d just told a CPD detective to let him secure the premises.
Once they were inside the two-room suite, she took a seat on the sofa in the living room while he pulled a couple of sodas from the mini-fridge and handed one to her before sitting, angled to face her.
Then they both finally took those breaths they’d been holding and stared at one another.
"I never thought I’d see you again," he finally said. His gaze was hot, and her skin felt prickly—sensitive and warm.
"I didn’t either. You’ve been okay?"
His gaze left hers for a moment, and she could tell something wasn’t quite what it should be.
"I have," he answered slowly. "It’s been…different. I’m still not really settled with the whole new life."
She chuckled softly. "Is there such a thing? Being settled?"
He smiled warmly. "I like to think so. I’ve seen it in my brothers with their wives."
"Your brothers are married?" It nearly brought tears to her eyes. It was everything Cian had wanted, everything he’d sacrificed for.
"They are. Happily. Both of them." Then he sobered. "I wish Cian could see it."
"But what about you?" She was concerned. She’d never wanted anything but Finn’s happiness. She’d assumed being free of the MacFarlanes would insure that. Like Connor, Finn had the capacity to be something much more than a criminal.
He ran a hand through his hair and she watched the motion with something almost like envy. Once upon a time, she’d touched those soft strands, been held by that strong hand.
"Married? No, not even close."
Oh. Oh! Her heart hammered in her chest.
"You?" he asked almost tentatively.
She let a burst of laughter escape. "Oh, God no. I haven’t even been on a date in…" Then she realized what she was about to admit.
"In?" he prompted, a gleam in his eyes now.
"A long time," she finished. Honest. Not very informative. But honest.
"But you’re CPD’s star detective," he said. "I read the Chicago papers whenever I can," he added by way of explanation.
She wondered if it would hurt to tell him. Cian probably wouldn’t like it, but how could she face Finn and not admit it all? He loved his brother. He deserved to know the truth.
"I’ve had some help with that," she admitted.
"Yeah?"
"From your brother."
Finn’s expression darkened as she explained her visits with Cian, the way they discussed her cases. How he helped her with contacts or information only someone who’d lived a mob life could.
"And as long as I’m confessing, I see your mother every Sunday for dinner."
"You what?" he snapped.
"Cian won’t let her visit. She’s all alone. I just…thought she’d like to know how he’s doing. I started off dropping by one day to give her an update, and she asked me to dinner. Then she asked me to come back, and honestly, no one ever cooks anything for me, it’s the only decent meal I get all week." She shrugged.
Finn slumped back against the leather cushions and muttered something that she probably didn’t want to hear. She was about to tell him she’d stop if that’s what he wanted. She’d done everything she could to make sure Cian was safe on the inside, and she was the one who’d noticed his mother’s stiff fingers and convinced her to get a check that revealed arthritis, but if he wanted her to leave them alone, she would. Before she could say any of it, though, he lunged at her.
Chapter 23
It was the most graceless move Finn had ever made on a woman, but hearing that Keira had spent two straight years looking after his family when he couldn’t, combined with the scent of her skin and the gray of her eyes, he lost all his finesse. He was on her in a heartbeat, pulling her onto his lap as he wrapped one arm around her hips and dug the other into her mass of curls.
His lips crushed hers before she could protest, and in seconds, their tongues were tangling, a gasp falling from her chest, a groan from his throat.
Fuck. It was like coming home. Like finding the thing that had been missing for two whole years. For longer. For an entire lifetime. Suddenly, he didn’t care if he was in Chicago or Seattle, a hotel or a farmhouse. He didn’t wonder where he should go next or how to get there.
Everything was her. Her scent, her taste, the sound of her breath, the heat of her skin.
"Finn," she whispered as he slid his lips down the column of her neck.
"No," he answered. "No talking."
"We don’t know who brought us here. We could be in danger."
He pulled back, gazing into her eyes as he caressed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "Right this minute, the only danger is that I’m never going to be able to let you go again."
Her gaze grew soft and shiny. "I know," she whispered. "I feel it, too."
There was no more talking after that. Just sighs and murmurs, and a silent prayer that Finn sent up to the heavens. Let me have this, he thought as he slid into her warm body. Let me have this one thing and I’ll never ask for anything else, ever again.
An hour later, he sat in bed and watched her dress. His disappointment grew with every layer she donned.
Finally, when it became clear she wasn’t going to stop and strip back down, he pulled on his jeans and sat next to her on the edge of the bed.
Gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, "Are you okay?"
She nodded, tugging on the laces of one boot.
"Keira?"
She froze, and then he saw it, the tear that was rolling down her cheek.
Fuck.
"What is it?" he asked softly.
She looked at him then, and his tough-as-nails CPD detective was wrecked. "It’s everything," she replied. "We have no idea how we ended up at that coffee shop. We have no idea who’s after us and what they want. And even if we did…" Her voice faded away and her gaze drifted, as well.
"Tell me," he demanded. "Even if we did, then what?"
"Then it still wouldn’t matter for us. You have to get out of Chicago as fast as you can. And I’ll probably never see you again."
While the logical part of Finn’s mind knew that was the logical conclusion to reach, he’d seemingly left logical behind somewhere, along with his family, his way of life, and now he’d discovered, his heart, as well.
"Keira?"
She blinked at him, her sad eyes pulling hard on his chest.
"I’m not willing to never see you again."
"Finn—"
"Hear me out."
She nodded and he pulled her gently back onto the bed where he lay down, her head on his shoulder, as they wrapped around one another.
"I’m free. Not in Chicago, but everywhere else in the world, I’m free. In the last two years, I’ve been to nearly every major city in the country. I’ve lived in hotels and Air BnBs and I’ve met tourists and teachers and housewives and corporate execs. No one has ever known who I was. No one has ever come after me." He paused, pulling on her soft curl and feeling it spring back from his fingers. "I can’t visit my family without risk, and I can’t be here in Chicago, but I’m able to have a life."
"Then why haven’t you?" she asked. "Why haven’t you picked a place and made a home?"
He took a deep breath. In for a penny—his mother’s old saying traipsed through his head.
"Because I didn’t have you there."
In for a pound.
She leaned up, looking down at him with a furrow in her brow. "Finn. We hardly know each other."
"And that matters why?"
"Because…" She stopped, the furrow growing deeper. "Because there is no such thing as love at first si
ght."
He shrugged and pulled her back down to his shoulder. "Maybe not, but what about love at first fuck? Or love at second sight? Or love at the first time you nearly got yourself thrown out of the police force by helping my brother the mob boss get his girlfriend back from a kidnapper?"
"He didn’t give me much choice."
"Bullshit. You know as well as I do that if you’d told Cian to let you go once he’d escaped, he would have. He was never going to hurt you. He knew you were mine."
She stiffened, then leaned up again, this time her gaze was narrowed. "Yours? Seriously?"
He grinned. He’d known that would piss her off.
"He knew I was interested in you. He wasn’t going to hurt you. But the point is, maybe normally there is no such thing as love at first sight, but what we’ve been through defies normal. And being here with you right now is the most right I’ve felt since the day I said goodbye to you."
"Oh, Finn," she whispered before pressing her lips to his.
Maybe it was having seen Connor and Jess and little Molly. Maybe it was being back in Chicago. Whatever the reason, something inside Finn finally made a choice, took a stand, wanted. Badly.
"Come with me, Keira," he said. "Let’s go somewhere and make a life together. You can get a job with another police department, I have some business ideas I can pursue. I have plenty of money. We can go anywhere you want."
"Oh Finn, I couldn’t—"
"Why?"
"I just—"
"Why? Would you miss your mother? She could come live wherever we end up, if you’d like."
Keira gave him a sad smile. "I’m not all that close to my mother. But what about yours?"
"We’ll bring her with us. I’ve been thinking it’s time to get her out of here. I promised her years ago I’d settle someplace and send for her. It’s time to do that."
"Cian is here."
Finn swallowed. "But he won’t let her see him, so what’s the point?"
Touch of Dark: Dublin Devils 3 Page 17