Shattered Hearts (Irish Kings #1)

22. Riley

Chapter 22

Riley

Those four little words strike fear in my heart.

I can’t even look at him. When I remember the concern in Finn’s eyes after Cian brought me home and the sweet way he kissed me, careful of my cuts and bruises, my heart squeezes. He didn’t have to go that far to uphold our charade.

So why did he?

His hot and cold, make love to me one minute and ignore me the next act confuses the hell out of me.

“Okay.” I choose my words carefully. “But can it wait until morning? It’s been a long day.”

Maybe I’m imagining the way his muscles bulge and flex all over his body when I say that. I’m too scrambled up inside to do or say anything else.

Even though I spent ninety-five percent of yesterday naked with Finn, my bare legs make me feel self-conscious. My anxious fingers curl around the hem of my nightshirt, subtly pulling it farther south.

My heart thumps hard in my chest. I’m so hyperaware of Finn’s every move, I don’t feel like myself at all. Every terrible thing he does and says still hurts me, but I also have to sit with the knowledge that when those Red Hill guys came after me, the rip current of terror that tore me apart the most was the fear I’d never see Finn again…

I had that same fear the night Troy attacked me.

God, I’m pathetic. Even in what could have been my last moments, I pine over someone who doesn’t care to be with me. Someone I can never be with.

“ No .” The depth of Finn’s voice yanks my gaze toward him. “It can’t.”

I had planned to fall blissfully asleep before Finn got back.

His brown eyes lick me up and down while I stand here exposed, craving his touch.

“Fine.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What is it you need to say?”

“Look at me,” he growls.

Exhaling hard, I lift my chin.

Lust sandbags me the minute I allow my eyes to rove over his body. A single, elegant vein crosses his tight forearm like a sash, reminding me of the same lines all over his cock. His biceps store bricks of muscle. His strong chest and shoulders taunt me, as do those parted lips, and that scruffy beard I yearn to rub my body against like a damn cat. The devastating line of his jaw.

I don’t meet his gaze. “I looked at you. Happy now?”

“No.”

“Good.” My throat is full of words unspoken. “Glad to hear I’m not the only one having a shitty day.”

Finn sets his jaw and then thrusts a pointer finger at the couch. “What the fuck is this?”

“In America, we call them a pillow and a blanket.” I can still feel the weight of his heavy, heated stare resting on my face, scorching my cheeks. When I meet his gaze, my suspicion is confirmed.

His eyes are hot coals. “Who said you could sleep on my couch?”

“What?” This is what he wants to talk about?

“You heard me.”

“You’re angry because I…didn’t ask you first if I could sleep on your couch?” Shame courses through me. He’s so pissed, he doesn’t even want me sleeping in the same room as him. “Do you want me to sleep in Harper’s?—”

“No.” He prowls toward me, like a predator stalking its prey. “You’ll sleep in my bed, where I can keep you safe. End of discussion.”

“Then why are you so?—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had work today?” His hands clench and unclench at his sides.

Anger sets up residence in my stomach like a damn tent.

“Will you stop interrupting me?” I sharpen my tone. “And how could I? You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“You could have called me.” His voice is steely and rough, like a blade. “Why didn’t you ask me to take you to work and pick you up?”

“Seriously? Why the hell would I ask you for anything when you left without so much as a ‘have a nice day?’ You were obviously busy, and I didn’t want to take up any more of your precious time.”

As soon as the words fly out, I know I’ve struck a nerve.

Finn falls silent, and my heart skip.

“You’re right. I was busy.” His cold, sharp words yank my gaze to his. “But if you’d called me like you should have, I would have dropped everything for you.”

My heart leaps into my throat at his admission. “Your duty is to this mafia, Finn. Not to me.”

“As long as we’re in this…situation, you are my responsibility. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know where you are.” A muscle twitches in his thick neck. “So from now on, I don’t care how pissed you are at me. You keep me appraised of your schedule. Understand?”

“Perfectly.” I blow past him toward the couch. “Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m going to bed. Good night.”

Before I get within couch-diving distance, Finn rips my bedding off his sofa with one rough hand and throws it all on the floor. “You’re not sleeping on the couch. Like I said, as long as you’re with me, the only place you’ll be sleeping is my bed.”

Who the hell does he think he is? Does he think I’m his personal slut or something? Because I don’t believe that you’ll sleep in my bed so I can keep you safe bullshit for one minute.

If looks could kill, Finn would be a soldering pile of ash on the floor.

“Nice try.” I grab my pillow and blanket off the floor, clutching them to my chest. “I’m sleeping in Harper’s room.”

“The hell you are. Like it or not, you will stay with me.”

I hate that tone he’s using. Like he owns me. It’s the same disgusting, darkly arrogant tone that men like Troy Sullivan and Thomas Brennan use.

“So you can fuck me when you feel like it, then disappear when you regret sleeping with me? No thank you.”

In a few long strides, he closes the distance between us and rips the bedding from my arms. “Let me spell it out for you. You aren’t safe.”

His voice is deadly calm, and if I had any sense, I’d turn around and get the hell out of his space.

As soon as our eyes lock, I want to cry. The chaos on his face. The tormented gleam in his eyes. Something’s wrong. Very wrong. That’s what he’s been trying to tell me. But instead, we’re arguing about nothing.

A premonition lurks inside me like a monster hidden in a closet.

I can’t pry my eyes away from him. I can’t breathe. The tension between us thickens into molasses. The smoldering intensity on his face…he could start a fire with those eyes.

“Finn, what’s going on? Did something…happen?”

His jaw twitches, and he drops his gaze.

Now, I’m nervous. What is he trying to tell me?

I step closer to him, searching his face and discerning nothing.

“The people who attacked you today…” His voice is gruff. “They’re connected to the De Luca family.”

“The Italians who used to run most of upstate?”

Finn offers a curt nod.

“Okay? So?” I trap my lower lip between my teeth.

“The De Lucas…killed my wife. And today, they almost got you too.”

Is that what all of that possessive machismo bullshit was about? He’s afraid of something bad happening to me?

I want to stay mad at this frustrating man, but his words—his obvious concern—suck the wrath right out of me. The raw emotion in his voice…

How rare to witness Finn’s pain and fear protruding through his intimidating, opaque exterior. It’s like seeing someone’s bones coming out of their skin. It reminds me that deep down, Finn is just a person who lost his brother and his mom.

He’s not invincible.

Losing people worries him, even now, to this day. He’s worried about Harper, and he's worried about me. He doesn’t want what happened to his wife to happen to either of us.

Seeing him this vulnerable breaks my heart.

Without giving it a second thought, I take his face between my hands. “Hey. Breathe,” I whisper. “I’m right here. Everything is going to be all right.”

He grits his teeth. “You don’t know that.”

I push my lips to his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Finn’s fingertips run around my waist and pull me deeper into him.

I open my mouth against his, and he lets me in. We shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself. How can being in Finn’s arms be wrong when it feels so right? So safe? I pour everything I’m feeling into my kisses. All my angst and desperation. All my longing and loneliness and doubt.

And he kisses me back.

Rough and greedy. Like a wounded animal clawing at me for relief. We kiss until my core is hot, hungry, and wet for him, until I feel his cock against my middle, pulsing between us, and our breathing becomes as uneven as the scales of justice in this wicked world we came up in.

“You believe me yet?” I leave a kiss on his facial scar.

“No.” He yanks my mouth back to his and kisses me hard, until all the ferocity in his lips starts to die down. When he pulls back, he doesn’t let me go, but he won’t look at me either. “You say everything’s going to be all right, but you don’t know that. There’s a very real possibility the De Lucas could either have Harper, or they’re pursuing her.”

“No.” I close my eyes, heaving a breath. “Finn, listen to me. I’m fine, and so is Harper.”

“We can’t be certain. Until we find her?—”

“She’s not missing,” I promise him. “She hasn’t been abducted. Harper is completely safe.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Harper’s hiding out.”

Finn’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“She needed some time to figure out what she wants to do with her life. That’s why she ran away.”

The words spill out too fast for me to consider whether telling Finn the entirety of Harper’s secrets is something I should do.

“How do you know this?” The force behind his voice surprises me. My hands release his face. I don’t expect him to snatch one and squeeze. With his other arm around me, I’m cemented in place.

“Finn, you’re—” His rage and iron grip frighten me.

“ Tell me how .”

My heart slams against my ribs, afraid and uncertain. Why is he so angry?

“She called me the day after the wedding.” I try to step back, but Finn won’t let me. “We were probably on the phone less than a minute, because she seemed like she was in a hurry. I agreed to help her keep up appearances for a month, while she got her shit together. When she returns, I don’t know what she’ll want to do, but?—”

“So you’ve known this from the beginning and kept it from me all this time.” Finn shoves away from me, forcefully releasing me from his rigid embrace.

I regain my balance and give him some space as he begins pacing in his living room, footsteps laden with rage. My heart pounds. I feel like a child who’s broken the rules.

Panic gathers at the back of my head. This is just like what happened with Troy. This is how I felt whenever I angered my dad.

“Not from the very beginning! I didn’t know on the day of the wedding.” I bite my lip. “I thought you’d be relieved to know?—”

“Relieved!” He barks at me. “Relieved to learn you’ve been lying to me?”

My heart drops like a cannonball.

“Relieved to know you and your sister hoodwinked me from the very beginning?” Finn slings his arms across his coffee table. Papers, files, and knickknacks clatter to the floor.

He’s not even mad at the coffee table stuff, and look what happened to them.

What I want to know, as fear spreads like ink under my skin, polluting my blood…is what exactly Finn plans on doing to me.