by Bella Jewel
“Took a lot. And to take her through the year of hell she would have suffered before she found Slater. Took strength. Big strength.”
My heart expands, because that’s a really nice thing for him to think about me. “I’d do it for anyone. It’s just the way I am.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding.
“Now it’s your turn, tell me something about you, Finn. Something no one else knows. Something dirty.”
He stares out at the ocean. “I was the forgotten brother. The youngest. Always caught up in Slater and Lincoln’s mess. Damon was happy. Kept his shit together. Always managed to make it through. Not me. I was depressed, lonely, sick of seeing them struggle for our drunk father. He didn’t want to help himself. He sucked us dry. And I hated him for it. One day, I came home and he was drunk. Burning shit in the kitchen. Stumblin’ around. He had already vomited all over the ground. He was sick, really really sick. Knew he needed help, but I didn’t care. I walked out of the house. And I left him there. Part of me hoped he’d fall on a knife and be done with it. Or choke on his own vomit. I’d had enough. Ellie and Slater found and helped him, and he went to rehab.”
I blink. Wow. That’s one hell of a confession.
I’m not entirely sure what to say to it.
“I fuckin’ hated him,” Finn growls. “He was ruinin’ our lives. He’s the real reason Ellie got taken. In the end, it all came back to him. When he finally kicked the bucket, I didn’t go to his funeral. That man ruined our lives. And I know, I know he was hurtin’, but fuck, so were we.”
“Because you lost your mom?” I ask him, my voice careful. I don’t want to say the wrong thing here.
“Yeah, she kept us together. The glue, I suppose. Ellie was the next thing that kept us together. But Dad, he just gave up. Couldn’t give a fuck about us, just himself. Know he was hurt, but you got four kids, all hurtin’ too, you don’t fuckin’ sink. You get strong. You do your best.”
He’s right about that, but he’s also wrong, too.
I mean, sure, his dad should have stepped up. But, I don’t know, I’ve also never known how it feels to love someone so much that losing them could most certainly just empty the soul, leaving nothing left. I mean, was their love epic? Who knows. It sounds like their mom was lovely, so maybe to their dad, she was it.
Still, I can understand his point, too.
“Did they love each other a lot?” I ask, hoping my question doesn’t come across as too forward.
“Yeah, they had the love. Which is why it hurt so damn much that he stopped carin’ for us. If there was anythin’ in the world that would have disappointed her to her very core, it would have been that. She would have been rollin’ in her grave to see him like that. To see us sinkin’. It would have killed her. He knew that. He did. Still chose himself.”
He has a point.
“Maybe he just couldn’t be without her. I don’t know, I’ve never loved anyone that much, but maybe … maybe he just died too.”
“And we didn’t?” Finn mutters.
He’s angry.
He has a right to be angry.
I’m guessing he’s been told one too many times that he has no right to feel the way he does, which is why he holds it so close to his chest. Too much judgement. Too much pain. I get that. I feel that. Deep down, he didn’t truly want his dad to get hurt, but he is hurting himself. He made a choice, it wasn’t the right one, but he made it. And he lives with that. He doesn’t need any more judgment.
“I don’t think you’re a bad person for wanting your dad to die,” I tell him.
Because it’s true. I don’t think that. I know deep down Finn didn’t actually want his dad to die, even though he says he did. He’s hurt. He’s broken. He trusted his dad to get them through what would have been one of the hardest things they’ve ever lived through, and he didn’t do that for them. Instead, he sunk, and because of that, their whole family went to hell and back.
I’d probably hold resentment, too.
Finn looks to me when I speak and, for a moment, shock flashes across his devastatingly handsome face. He didn’t expect me to say that. Which only reiterates that nobody has before, and that sucks for him. It really does.
“I’ve not lived through something so bad, especially at a young age,” I tell him, “but I know that if the person who was meant to hold me up, who I relied on, sunk … I’d be angry, too. Hell, I’d be more than angry. I’d feel the exact same way you do. It might have hurt like hell, but your dad should have been stronger for you boys. You all deserved that much from him.”
Finn keeps staring at me.
Am I crossing a line?
Probably.
He moves, slowly, his hands going up to grab my face. I blink, once, then twice, and then gasp a little as he pulls me close and kisses me. It’s a soft kiss. Not hungry and passionate, but instead soft and appreciative. His lips move over mine, his fingers glide through my hair, and I’m momentarily stunned.
Nobody has ever kissed me like this before.
Or touched me in this way.
In this deep manner.
Finn is speaking to me through his actions.
I let him deepen the kiss, whimpering as his tongue dances against mine.
I expect him to start roaming, for his hands to caress my body, but they don’t. They just hang onto my face, occasionally gliding through my hair, and it feels really damned nice. Really damned real.
And really damned confusing.
5
FINN
Fuck me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I pace my room, angry. Frustrated. Wanting to beat someone with my bare damned fists. Maybe I need to start fighting for Lincoln, fuck knows it would do me some good to release some of this pent-up anger. I’ve got a fuck load of it, and right now it’s all being directed to my damn gut and sitting there like a heavy rock.
Sick of carrying it around.
But tonight, with Erin, a little bit of it went. I told her the most broken part of myself, and she listened, and she took it, and she told me it was okay. Nobody has ever fucking told me it was okay. They judge. They make me look like a monster. They never just stop and say I had a right to feel the way that I did.
I told Lincoln once, and he called me selfish. Told me Dad couldn’t help it. That he was broken, too. That we were all doing the best we could.
Sure we were doing the best we could, but it doesn’t mean it felt fucking right.
Or good.
Erin saw what I saw. She understood the pain I’ve carried around. I’m angry, fucking wild, at Dad. Because he should have been stronger. He should have been there for us. Instead of drinking our lives into the toilet, crushing our family, and then dying in the end anyway and leaving us with fucking nothing but emptiness, bitterness and anger.
Yeah, thanks a fucking lot, Dad.
My phone rings, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I glance down to see Damon’s name flashing across the screen. Damon is probably the only person in the world who knows anything decent about me. He’s the only one I trust. He’s the only thing that kept me sane when we were growing up. His light humor always balanced out my dark one. Making us a good match.
“Yo,” I answer the phone, shaking fucking Erin from my head.
“How’s island life treating you? Women? Boobs? Both?”
I snort. “Both. Sucks Lincoln didn’t like you enough to invite you.”
Damon chuckles. “He damn well knew if I was there, nobody else would get any attention. That island couldn’t handle Damon Knight.”
Good fucking lord.
“You’re fuckin’ one of a kind, man. What are you callin’ about?”
“Couldn’t get Lincoln, but Brody wants in on a fight tonight. What do you think?”
I think Brody is going to take the fucking world down. I also think Brody might just be dangerous. He has anger that runs a fucking lot deeper than anything I’ve ever seen, he’s empty, he’s broken, and
he’s determined to find something. Don’t fucking know what it is, but I know he’s searching high and low for it. When he gets in that cage, he’ll destroy everything in his path.
That much I’m sure of.
“Don’t see why he can’t fight, but fuck, man, Brody is one of a kind. Probably best Lincoln in there.”
“That’s what I was thinkin’. He’s obviously found himself another fight anyway, he’s all busted up. That man is dead inside. Dead. Was he in the Army?”
“No,” I tell Damon, “but he wears dog tags, and those damned pants, every fuckin’ where. It has meanin’ to him, it all links back to him bein’ the way he is, I just don’t know how. He doesn’t speak.”
“No, he doesn’t say a lot. Well, I’ll pull him up until Lincoln gets back. How about you? How’s things goin’ with the two women fightin’ for your love?”
He chuckles at himself.
Fucking loser.
“I don’t do women, Damon.”
“Stop bein’ such a dick all the time, you might actually find a decent one and get happy.”
Fuck happy.
Happy isn’t a thing.
“Are you done?” I mutter.
“Yep,” he chirps. Always happy. Always fucking happy. And yet he doesn’t have a woman, either.
Ever wonder why?
Because he’s fucked up, too. He just hides it well.
“I’ll talk to Lincoln, get him to call you. In the meantime, keep Brody away from that cage until we get back to you.”
“Got ya. See you soon, bro.”
He hangs up, and I follow suit.
I wonder what fucking Brody is doing fighting already?
If he’s fighting, who the hell is he fighting for?
There are some dangerous clubs out there. Fucking lethal, actually.
Death matches.
Big money.
If you make it out alive.
He wouldn’t be so stupid as to touch those … would he?
Fuck. Brody.
~*~*~*~
A knock sounds at my door, and I growl, tucking my very hard, very aching cock back into my pants and waiting a few seconds for it to calm down. Who the fuck wants something from me right now? It’s nine o’clock at night.
I walk over and answer the door, shocked to find Indi standing there, staring at me. She looks fucking lovely, as always. Not that she ever looks anything less. She’s a beautiful woman, she knows she’s a beautiful woman. She also knows she’s not going to get anywhere with me, so why the fuck is she standing here, and why the fuck are her tits bulging out of her top?
Fuck.
“What are you doin’ here, Indi?”
She bites her lips and then glances around, as if she’s wondering the same thing herself. Then she says softly, “Can I come in?”
I growl inwardly. Not sure that’s a very fucking good idea.
Shit is getting way too complicated as it is right now, with the way I’m feeling about Erin, and the confusing mix of emotions, and now Indi looking at me like she has some hope, like something she can say could possibly change my mind. It can’t, but telling her that could be disastrous. I’m not sure she’s ready to hear it.
“Five minutes, Indi. You and I have said what needed to be said, not sure what else there is to talk about.”
She nods, walking inside my room and sitting on the sofa. The sofa I was just lying on, jerking my cock, desperately needing a woman and yet somehow finding myself unable to go out and get one, Erin constantly on my mind, for whatever fucking reason.
I sit next to Indi, far enough away that I can’t smell, touch, or feel her. Don’t need that kind of temptation right now.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’d usually jump at this chance.
“Look, I get you’re not into relationships and stuff, for whatever reason. But, I don’t know, I still feel like we had something. We got along well. We talked. I was wondering if you’d consider just going out with me, just once, at least give me a chance before you decide I’m not worthy of your time.”
Fuck.
I knew this would happen.
Dammit. Sometimes when you fuck women, you get the soft ones, the ones who can see past your bullshit and don’t want to give up on you.
Sweet as hell they are, and one day they’ll make a killer wife, but the thing is, I already know my own bullshit, and I’m choosing to live with it. I don’t want a relationship; if I did, I’d have one.
“Indi,” I say, exhaling, trying to figure out the nicest, yet firmest way I can break this to her. “Look, told you once, not sure how many times I gotta tell you. I’m not lookin’ for a relationship. Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, thought you knew it was just sex. I’m not the man you’re lookin’ for.”
“Because you won’t try!” she cries, frustrated. “You won’t even try. You’re so wrapped up in your ‘poor me, I’m broken’ act that you’re not even willing to open the door and give it a chance. If you did, you might actually find you like it. Like me. Why am I not good enough for you, Finn?”
Fuck. Me.
“No,” I growl, getting frustrated. “I won’t like it, because it isn’t what I want. Don’t you fuckin’ understand that? I don’t want to be with anyone. It has nothing to do with you, at all. Why can’t you see that?”
“So you’re not even willing to give me one chance?”
“No.”
She looks hurt, and I hate that, because I don’t go around looking to hurt women. I’m not that kind of man. But I also don’t give false hope. Indi is looking for false hope, and I’m not going to give it to her.
“I know you want me,” she says, biting her lip and staring at me. “I mean, I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
Fuck. Here we go.
She moves on the sofa, crawling over and straddling me. I should toss her off, but I respect her and I don’t want to make this any worse, so calmly, I say, “We can’t be doin’ this, because you’re not understandin’ that it means nothin’ to me. So, you need to climb off me, Indi. Or I’ll have to throw you off, and I really don’t fuckin’ want to do that.”
“Why are you lying to yourself, Finn?” she murmurs, staring at my lips. It’s only then I smell the alcohol on her breath.
Makes sense.
She doesn’t seem like the type to be so bold.
“Indi, last warnin’, this ain’t happenin’ …”
“If I pulled your cock out right now, you wouldn’t say no. I could ride it real slow …”
Fuck.
She’s testing everything.
She knows I like sex.
She knows if it was just about that, I’d be inside her right now.
But it isn’t just about that.
I fuck her, she gets the wrong idea, and this little problem of ours simply doesn’t go the fuck away.
“Indi,” I warn.
She reaches between us, curling her hand around my cock, making me growl because fuck, it’s hard, and I was so fucking close before.
Damn her.
She’s hitting every weak spot I have.
She brings her lips to my mouth, and kisses, trying to coax me to return it, rubbing her sweet little body over mine, rubbing my cock until it aches. Fuck her. I didn’t want to toss her off, but I will.
“You need to go home,” I say to her, grabbing her and removing her from my lap. I stand, readjusting my aching cock, and turn to her. “Now, Indi.”
She frowns. “You’re honestly going to say no to me?”
“I’m honestly goin’ to say no. You’re gettin’ the wrong idea. I’m not interested in this. Please, do yourself a favor, and go find someone who is. You’re a great girl, you’re just not my girl.”
Her face turns a little sour, and she mutters, “Go fuck yourself, Finn. That’s such a shitty line!”
Then she turns and storms out.
I exhale.
Fuck me.
Fuck this.
> Why can’t things just be easy?
6
ERIN
My heart is in my throat.
It is literally lodged there.
I think it has moved there because the rest of my body is filled with utter embarrassment and shame. I feel so stupid my cheeks burn. What the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so dumb? How could I have let my guard down? I knew damn well that I wasn’t going to get anywhere, and I believe it anyway, because of a few little moments that clearly meant nothing.
I just saw him with Indi.
Stupid me took some beers over and his door was open. I went to step in and saw them on the couch, she was on his lap, lips on his, hand rubbing his cock through his jeans. I feel sick to my stomach. So incredibly stupid. I put the beers down outside the door and hightailed it out of there.
I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I need someone to talk to. I feel so … stupid.
That’s because I am so stupid.
It’s not like this hasn’t been right in front of me the whole time, the answer, right there flashing in my face. I mean, come on, of course Finn and I weren’t getting closer. Of course we aren’t anything more than fuck buddies. He’s made that clear. Gosh, he made it so damned clear. I was the one who clearly let myself think something had changed, when clearly it hadn’t.
Nobody to blame but myself.
I reach Ellie’s door and knock. She doesn’t answer, and after a few minutes of waiting, I go in search of Lucy and Shania. Those two have a way of putting everything into perspective for me. They’re just … down to earth. They’re also brutal, and right now, I need brutal, gosh do I need brutal.
I’ve always had it together when it came to men.
Always said only the worthy would make it past my walls. That I’d never let myself get taken for a ride. So how in the ever loving hell has Finn Knight managed to get amongst my biggest barriers and change everything?
There’s just something about him that I click with.
That feels … familiar.
Maybe it’s that I understand him, or he understands me.
Dammit. I’m overthinking this.