25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Much later, after they had sated themselves, Kathleen claimed the laptop. She was leaning against the wall while Finn lay with his head on her lap. He looked up at her, his fingers shifting through the long strands of her dark hair.
He didn’t have to say anything to make her heart flutter. Just remembering Finn’s declaration, spoken so casually, like he was revealing a truth of the world everyone already knew, made her pulse jump. It wasn’t just the words. It was the implication. Love implied trust, a steady presence, and reliability. Kathleen had never had those things—certainly never in a way that she had felt compelled to utter the words to someone.
Besides, it was absurd. They had known each other for such a short time. This was just a matter of a man grasping at the first kind person to look his way.
Yet she couldn’t deny that his mere presence, his attention, made her heart leap. The pleasant ache between her legs was just a bonus. She wasn’t sure he had the slightest clue of the effect he had on her.
She was trying to focus, though. Michael Milford—the man Finn called the Handler—wasn’t on social media. She couldn’t find a single photo of him. He was a ghost.
The bigger concern was the grainy figure Finn pointed out as he flipped through images. Kathleen’s heart sped up when she saw it, and Finn’s hand stilled. Had he heard her heart rate increase?
Probably, based on what he had told her about his abilities.
Kathleen was careful whenever she saw Finn still like that. As often as not, it acted as a defensive mechanism, but she saw hints of the Hound in the gesture.
She kept her voice light. “That's Thomas Kennedy—he’s a New York Senator, currently running for President, and the Chairman of the Intelligence Committee. I think we just figured out how Command is being funded.”
Finn hadn’t moved, hadn’t reacted, and when she looked at him, there was a blankness in his gaze that made her heart pound faster.
“Finn?” Kathleen asked.
“You want me to kill him,” he said distantly.
“No!” she exhaled slowly. “That’s… we need more information. He’s a public figure, which means his schedule is going to be known. I’d like to get close to him. See if I can plant a bug on him.”
Finn blinked slowly, his expression increasingly animated. “If he’s associated with Command, that will be dangerous.”
“Probably,” Kathleen agreed, turning her gaze back to the laptop. “But it’s where we start. He’s campaigning, so I can catch him in public, that’s even better. Ah, see? He’s attending a fundraiser ball tonight at the Mariott Marquis. Perfect.”
“We,” Finn said sharply.
“Hm?” Kathleen didn’t take her eyes off the laptop, bringing up some pictures of the hotel.
“You said it’s where you can catch him in public. I’m going with you.”
Fear stole her breath for a second, but she kept her voice even. “If he’s part of Command, he’ll recognize you. I won’t risk that.”
“I’m not asking.” The heat in Finn’s gaze had nothing to do with desire, but it still made her shiver in reaction at the intensity of it. “I’ve been there before. I know the layout, the security, how to get in and out undetected.”
Kathleen wanted to argue. She wanted him safe—but the idea of him with her was comforting. “Okay.”
The heat of Finn’s gaze disappeared like a switch thrown, and his hand resumed its slow coil through her hair. It was, she realized, much like the way she’d seen him absently pet the cat: focused fascination. She closed the laptop lid, feeling her tension dissipate as she relaxed into the repetitive gesture.
His fingers slowed their movement. “Tell me something about yourself?”
The words caught her off guard. Kathleen did her best not to sound wary, though she wasn’t sure she succeeded. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything. I want to know you.”
This was the point in every relationship where Kathleen ghosted her lovers before they got too close. While the thought occurred to her, the idea of leaving Finn felt wrong. He had given her everything she asked for—even when it cost him, mentally and physically. She owed him an honest answer.
She wet her lips with her tongue. “I’m a terrible cook. It’s why I’m on a first name basis with all the great food places around my place.”
Finn gave an audible huff of amusement as his fingers resumed their movement in her hair. “I’m aware.”
Kathleen had almost forgotten he had brought her noodles the day he kidnapped her. “…Right. Uh. I guess you know I work for the DC police department. I didn’t always want to be a cop, but… I grew up in the foster system. I tried to protect other kids, sometimes more successfully than other times. I guess it stuck.”
“Do you remember your parents?”
“Not much. They died when I was young. I have a vague memory of my mother’s laughter, her smile. She loved to listen to classical music, to dance to it. That’s it.”
“I don’t remember mine, either.” Finn didn’t sound upset. He just said it like it was a point of fact.
Did he not remember because he’d lost them or because of the experiments of Command? Kathleen was curious, but she’d already pushed him hard on that topic. She was sure he’d given her everything he could. Her fingers shifted to his chest, tracing the bandage she had placed over the bullet wound. He barely reacted.
Finn’s fingers kept moving, a soothing gesture. They fell into a comfortable silence, and she thought it was the last of his questions until he asked, “What are your nightmares about?”
All her muscles tensed, and she became conscious of the pounding of her heart.
Finn sensed it immediately, and he pulled himself into a seated position, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Kathleen didn’t feel trapped by it, as she expected. She felt surprisingly safe. He didn’t ask anything, didn’t press, just held her while her physical reaction eased.
Kathleen’s lips parted, preparing to deflect, to distract, but her mind went blank. After a slow breath, she spoke in halting words, “When I first joined the force six years ago, one of my first jobs was undercover work investigating a human trafficking ring. They needed someone who looked young, someone who didn’t have cop written all over them yet.”
She remembered that moment vividly—how eager she’d been to be chosen. How na?ve she’d been.
The roughened pad of Finn’s thumb stroked her back, but he said nothing, patiently waiting for her words to resume.
“There were assurances about how safe I’d be. That my fellow officers would have my back. And they did, but…” The words stuck in her throat, and she felt Finn’s arms tighten around her. The admission that followed came in a breathless whisper, but she could tell Finn could hear her. “I felt helpless. There were girls there, barely in their teens, and I couldn’t protect them. I wanted to hurt the people trafficking them so badly, but I had to wait until all the buyers arrived so we could nab them.”
Hands touching her. No, restraining her. Injecting her with… something. A voice fading dimly into silence. The memory was so vivid and present for a second, that it stole her breath.
“I was able to get free and block an escape exit I had heard the guards talking about. We arrested twenty people. Some of them were high profile. It helped me make a name for myself. It made my career, but it stays with me. Seeing the faces of those who were truly helpless, feeling what they felt. It keeps me up at night, still. Knowing people like that are out there. That I can’t save everyone.”
Kathleen lapsed into silence. She had told no one of her feelings—her fears—that lingered after all these years. Sharing that in her line of work was certain to end her career early.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” Finn said.
She couldn’t decipher the note in his voice, prompting her to gaze at him. His blue eyes were full of wonder and admiration that stole her breath for a different reason.
Finn smiled. “You’re amazing, kitten.”
Despite all her protests to the contrary, Kathleen knew this wasn’t a one-time thing, let alone a three-time thing. She wanted to look at him every day, and see the way he looked at her right now.
Kathleen shifted her weight forward, her lips crashing into his, and he groaned in response as his tongue slipped between her lips. This time, though, when she tried to escalate things, he slowed her down. He pushed her onto the bed, then laid her open, his mouth exploring every part of her skin.
It was like he was worshiping her body with every touch of his lips.
And for once, she believed she deserved it.