I won’t key his car, because I won’t take it that far to begin with.
He had his chance, and he lost it. Twice.
18
Finn
All I’m trying to do is stay true to my word. I’m trying to be a good person, for once in my miserable life. I’m trying to hold back the urges that I usually give in to. Not jump into bed with Esme when I know it would be a mistake. Not betray my friendship with Sweeney. Not hurt her for no reason other than wanting to get laid.
Acting like I usually do always ends in disaster.
Esme won’t look at me, so I slink back into the office and close the door. I stare at the wall for a while, and then grab my things to leave.
“I’m going to the airfield,” I say as I head out the front door.
“Bye.” Esme doesn’t look up.
Anger expands through my chest, pushing against my ribs and making my skin tingle. Shame follows.
I know she feels hurt and rejected, but what choice do I have? I’d love nothing more than to fuck her to oblivion, but it would be wrong.
For once, I want to do the right thing. I want to resist my urges. I want to deny myself the pleasure that I crave, because I know it would be a mistake to act on it.
I want to be a good guy.
And where does that get me? In the fucking doghouse, with a woman that I haven’t even slept with.
I drive faster than I should as I make my way to the airfield. That’s where we keep all our gear. I need to get this out of my system. I need a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. I need to do something stupid. Dance with death. Feel something other than desire for a woman I can’t have.
I can’t deal with the emotions bubbling up inside me, and there’s only one cure that I know of.
So, I grab the BASE jumping chute that has thus far gone unused. Glancing toward the runway, I see Benji and Racer and loading some clients onto the plane. They can handle things here. I need to handle myself.
I check my gear thoroughly for the hundredth time before putting on my suit. I’ve wanted to do this BASE jump so many times I’ve lost count, even going so far as to get geared up and climb to the top. But I’ve never gone through with it.
Well, today I’m going through with it.
Wearing my suit, I run my fingers over the nylon stitches and start packing my equipment into the purpose-made single parachute container that will soon be strapped to my back. The canopy is packed properly and should deploy quickly. I check the pilot chute again. I won’t have time to deploy it from the backpack, so I’ll be holding it in my hand and releasing it as soon as I jump.
I’ve never done anything like this. It’s dangerous. Possibly stupid—but so fucking exhilarating I can’t resist. It’s the only thing that will cure the burning in my gut. The only thing that will get Esme out of my fucking head.
Driving back across town, I glance toward the antenna that towers over the far side of Woodvale. I won’t do the bridge today. I need to start with something more manageable. The radio tower should do.
My heart starts to thump. My hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter and my breath shortens. The tips of my fingers tingle and my stomach feels empty.
This is the feeling I love. The one that’s been missing from every jump since the one I did with Esme over a month ago.
As I take a service road toward the FM radio tower, I turn off onto a gravel road and turn the car around. It’s not visible from the main service road, and it should be a short walk—or run—back to the car once I’ve jumped. If anyone catches me, I need to get out of here as soon as possible. This isn’t exactly legal—or safe.
Grabbing my gear, I glance over the treetops at the antenna that reaches far above. I opt not to take the service road all the way up, instead cutting through the trees.
I shouldn’t be here. I’m trespassing, first of all. The riskier thing, though, is that I’m being impulsive. I should have a crew with me. I should have a getaway driver in case we get caught.
But I’ve been to this radio tower at least twenty times. I’ve cased it day and night, always dreaming of climbing to the top.
Pressure has been building inside me for months, with a fuse ready and waiting to be lit.
Esme is the spark.
If I can’t have her, I need the next best thing. Adrenaline.
So, I make my way toward the cleared, grassy top of the hill where the radio tower sits. Scanning the ground and the antenna, I see no one. I’m alone. There’s a fence surrounding the base of the tower, but It’ll be easy to climb over to get access to the tower base.
My eyes climb up to the top of the tower, and anticipation builds in the pit of my stomach.
I need to do this. I need to jump off this thing. I need to prove to myself that I can do it.
I know I’m being impulsive. It’s the worst thing to be when doing something as dangerous as this. It’s how accidents happen.
But the rational, reasonable voice in my head is nothing but a whisper, and it’s easy to ignore. Louder in my mind is the voice that says, Do it. There’s a monster inside me that needs unleashing. A tightness that needs releasing. An itch that needs scratching.
I can’t wait. I can’t think. I can’t hesitate.
I have to act.
I put my harness and chute on, checking the straps and tightening it on my body. Adrenaline starts to trickle into my veins. The weightless, euphoric feeling is close. I can feel electricity on my tongue. My feet carry me toward the tower. I glance around, still seeing no one. My heart is in my throat, thumping hard. My palms are sweaty, so I wipe them on my jump suit before putting my gloves on.
My helmet goes on my head, and I glance at the top of the tower. Clouds pass by overhead, making the tip of the antenna look like it’s moving. I glance down at the ground again to dispel the vertigo.
Then, I climb the fence and jump down to land on the other side. The thick, metal components of the tower extend far above.
The antenna has an interior cage, which means I won’t have to climb on the outside. In my many recon missions, I’ve mapped out the location of the guy wires and studied the wind direction. I know which direction I want to jump, and approximately where I should land, if all goes to plan.
As I climb up, up, up, my heart is in my throat. My hands grip the ladder as I make my way higher. It’s like a dance. My body moves gracefully, almost without any effort. I’m in a daze. I don’t look up. I don’t look down. I just focus on moving up one rung at a time until almost all of a sudden, I’m at the top of the tower.
The air is colder up here. There’s a small platform for me to stand on with a waist-high guardrail I’ll have to climb over. I pause for a moment, staring at the ground below.
It’s not that far down—nothing compared to a skydive.
I’ll have to let go of my pilot chute right away. It should successfully deploy the special BASE canopy I’ve strapped onto my back.
The operative word being ‘should.’
If I’ve packed it improperly, or failed to see some defect, I’ll most likely be dead in a few minutes. I’ll jump off this antenna and some maintenance worker will find me crumpled at the bottom in a few hours, days, or even weeks.
My fingers move over the straps crossing my body and I take the pilot chute out of its pocket. I hold it in my hand, my heart thumping so hard I can’t even hear myself think.
Maybe it’s a good thing. If I were thinking, I might hesitate. I might think of Esme. I might climb back down with my tail between my legs, telling no one of my latest failed attempt to face my fears.
But I’m not thinking. I’m tasting danger and feeling the sweet, thrilling adrenaline dumping into my bloodstream.
Putting my hand on the platform guardrail, I swing one leg over, then the other. My other hand is still gripping the pilot chute.
I take a deep breath, daring to look at the ground once more. Nausea rises up in my stomach, and a smile passes over my face. Nausea is g
ood. Nerves are good. They’ll make the jump that much sweeter.
I close my eyes for a moment, savoring these seconds. I’ve been dreaming of this for years. Ever since I got my heart smashed to pieces in college, I’ve wanted to do this. Ever since I learned how soothing adrenaline can be, I’ve needed this release.
BASE jumping has been calling my name for years, but Racer’s right—I’ve been too chicken to answer.
Well, I’m answering. Not for glory. Not for cheap publicity. Not to prove anything to anyone.
To get a certain, whiskey-eyed beauty out of my head, and remind myself of what’s important. Living life. Staying true to myself. Chasing the high.
So, I jump.
In that split second, when my feet leave the guardrail and I’m in free fall, euphoria rushes through my body. It rips through my core and blazes a trail straight down my spine. It lights up every nerve ending in my body like a million firecrackers exploding at once. It rewards my recklessness and gives me the high that I’ve been craving.
Death flashes in front of my eyes, and I say hello to an old, dear friend.
I throw my pilot chute and feel the canopy deploy overhead. In those seconds, I feel truly alive. Completely fearless. Totally euphoric.
As soon as the canopy opens, my face splits into a smile and a laugh tumbles through my lips. The pain in the pit of my stomach is gone. The need to scratch this itch is satisfied…for now.
In the back of my mind, I wonder how long it’ll last. Until tomorrow, maybe? Next week? Or will I be craving Esme as soon as my feet touch the ground?
Something flashes in the corner of my eye, and I see a man at the bottom of the hill. I can’t be sure from up here, but I think he’s pointing a phone at me.
I don’t have time to think about it. My descent is smooth and short. In only a few seconds, I’m running on smooth ground and pulling my parachute toward me. I crumple it up and tuck it under my arm, taking off at a sprint.
The man shouts. I can hear him chasing me, but I’m too fast. I have adrenaline on my side. I laugh, sprinting through the grassy clearing until I get to the trees. The man is still shouting behind me, but his voice is growing fainter. I duck into the trees, angling toward the small dirt road where I parked my car.
My breath is short. My mind is clear. I laugh to myself, letting out a scream as I fly through the trees.
It was barely a minute of my life. Just a few seconds of my existence. A blink of an eye.
But it was everything.
It emptied my veins of the fire that Esme lit. It dampened the heat that had been growing inside me for a month. It made me feel like myself again.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself as I sprint toward my getaway vehicle.
I reach my car just as a police cruiser speeds by on the main service road. I pause, listening. When I don’t hear anyone else coming, I rip my car door open and take off down the dirt road, turning onto the service road and racing back toward town.
Only when I’m back on the main highway do I allow myself to laugh again. I scream in my car, banging my hands on my steering wheel like a fucking maniac.
This is living. This is better than sex. Better than sleeping with my best friend’s sister. Better than anything else I’ve ever imagined…
…but maybe that’s just the adrenaline talking. I feel free right now, while the colors around me are still heightened. While I can’t think of anything except how good it felt to be that close to dying—and live.
The voice at the back of my head gets louder the closer I get to Esme. It tells me a BASE jump isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough. Even if I did it ten times a day, it wouldn’t come close to the thrill of being near her.
When I park the car outside the center, though, I ignore the voice, and I deny its truth.
19
Esme
I hear the back door to the shop open and close, and then heavy footsteps going up to the second floor. Finn’s back.
The footsteps continue overhead and I try to control the thumping of my heart.
I hate that he feels the need to tell me what to do. He’s possessive over me, but he still won’t act on his desires. I hate that we’re in this awful no man’s land, where we know there’s a spark between us, but we don’t know if it’s enough to act on.
In my mind, I know it’s enough. Being with Finn is the only thing that has made life worth living. It feels like the whole reason that I fought this stupid cancer in the first place. He’s the only reason I feel the spark of life in my spirit right now.
I lift my head when the shop door opens. Two police officers step through, their faces impassive. My throat tightens.
I nod. “Hello, officers.”
“Ma’am,” one of them says. He leans on the reception desk, pulling out a cell phone. “We’re looking on information regarding this man. A witness saw him jumping off the radio tower just outside of town about an hour ago.”
He turns his phone screen toward me and presses ‘play’ on a video before handing it to me. I watch the screen, my eyebrows jumping up a fraction of an inch. I fight to keep my face neutral.
It’s Finn.
I know it’s Finn. He left the shop in a hurry this morning, and he just got back, going straight up to his apartment. He looked determined when he walked out. Almost angry.
I can tell by the way he’s running in the video that it’s him. I recognize his clothing. His hair. His movements.
There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that the man in the video is Finn Gallagher. I hand the phone back to the office and shake my head.
“No idea, Officer. I’m sorry.” The lie burns on its way out. I could go to jail for lying to a police officer, right?
Am I really covering for Finn when all he’s done is kiss me and then push me away? What’s wrong with me? Am I really that pathetic?
But it’s too late now. One officer stares at me while the other looks at the various pictures hanging in the shop. A lump forms in my throat.
“We’ll need a list of everyone who works here and everyone who’s been skydiving lately.”
The officer looks angry, which makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I straighten up, jutting my chin out. I don’t appreciate being pushed around.
They’re just like Finn. They think they can order me around, walk all over me, treat me like a nobody just because I’m a girl. Because I’m small. I look weak.
Well, newsflash, Officer: I’m not weak.
My jaw ticks. “I can’t hand out customer information, Officer. I’m sorry.”
“Your staff list, then.”
“Our staff has been taking people skydiving all morning at the Woodvale Skydiving Airfield.” I cross my arms. “We’re too busy making a living to be jumping off towers. I’m sorry, Officer, I can’t help you.”
“I’ll come back with a warrant.”
“When you do, I’ll hand over whatever information is detailed on it.” I give him my best smile, keeping my gaze hard.
The officer’s lip twitches. His eyes are cold. He hasn’t even told me his name, and a piece of paper is stuffed in his pocket, hiding his badge number. He looks like he has a chip on his shoulder.
Well, guess what? So do I. My chip has been growing for six years, when I fought to hang onto my life by a thread.
I try to contain my anger, because I know he’s just doing his job. I know Finn trespassed and could have killed himself. I know he should be in trouble.
But I’m sick of being pushed around. I’m sick of being talked down to. I slide my usual armor on, the thrill of anger and toughness simmering under my skin.
It may be an act, but it’s a good one. I’ve kept this mask on for years. I hold the officer’s gaze until his partner grunts and jerks his head to the door. They get back in their cruiser and head down the road, presumably to the airfield or back to the police station.
Wherever they’re going, I don’t care. Not my problem.
The
‘Staff Only’ door behind me opens, and Finn leans against the doorway. His sharp, green eyes shimmer with something I’ve rarely seen before. They run down my body and back up again, and my body sets itself alight. The fire inside me crackles, licking the edges of my stomach as my body burns from the inside out.
I want him. I hate how much I want him. I hate that in just over a month, he’s got me lying to police officers and covering up his misdemeanors for him.
Then again, I hated the way the officer was talking to me like I was some kind of weak little idiot, so I have that excuse, too.
“You didn’t have to do that.” His voice is gravelly. It rattles through my chest until it’s hard to breathe.
I gulp, turning back to the computer. “I know.”
“You could get in trouble.”
“So could you, Finn.” I pause, my fingers drumming on the desk. I pause, glancing over my shoulder again. “How was it?”
“Incredible.”
When he says the word, his gaze is steady on mine. My stomach twists as I try to contain the lust raging within me. My eyes drop to his lips, and the memory of his kiss flashes in my mind.
My body melts. Burns. Stays rooted to my chair as Finn remains painfully far away from me.
He got to let loose. Get his fix. Feel the thrill of his jump.
Me, on the other hand? All I’ve done is sit here and want him. I’ve stewed in my own desire, knowing I won’t get any release.
“I’m glad you had fun.” I turn back to the computer screen, giving him my back. “Try not to get arrested.”
The phone rings before Finn can answer. I pick up, expecting another booking. Instead, I hear Kit’s voice.
“Just checking you’re still doing your job,” he says.
“Very funny,” I answer, looking over my shoulder. Finn’s eyes are on me. “How’s California?”
“Warm.”
“And…?”
“And nice.”
I arch an eyebrow, leaning my elbow on the desk. “So, you’re telling me that you’ve taken a trip with a newfound half-sister to see the mother you haven’t seen in fifteen years, and the adjectives you choose to describe the trip are warm and nice.”
Can't Have You: A Stand-Alone Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 12