Chapter 24
twenty-four
. . .
FINN
I was getting out of the shower when I heard the scream.
Reagan.
Hastily, I threw on clothes, my worry over her damn near suffocating as I once again raced down the gravel path between our houses. She could’ve still been sleeping, awoken by another nightmare. But I was mobilized by the idea that she was in danger.
“Reagan?” I shouted when I burst into the house. I hadn’t thought to grab my gun this time, so I reverted into combat mode, mentally drawing up all my years of hand-to-hand training should I need it.
My body was a weapon, and I’d use it against anyone who attempted to harm my girl.
No sound greeted me except faint sobbing coming from the back of the house.
I moved swiftly down the hallway, my head on a swivel, waiting for an ambush, but the coast to the master remained clear. The sheets on the bed were a twisted, tangled mess; Reagan likely hadn’t slept well.
And she was nowhere to be found.
“Reagan?” I called again.
“I-in here.” Her voice was so, so small, coming from the bathroom.
I stepped inside, not seeing her at first. Then I caught a flash of blonde in the corner, and I rushed across the room, dropping to my knees before her.
I barely registered that she was naked, her body curled into a tight ball.
My hands shook as I reached for her, but I held back from making contact. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”
Reagan shook her head, still crying too hard to speak. Instead, she lifted a shaky finger and pointed toward the vanity.
Standing, I moved back across the room, first looking at the counter, the sink, the floor around, searching for whatever had freaked her out so badly.
“The m-m-mirror,” she managed to gasp around her sobs.
My eyes flicked up.
Horror and rage fought for purchase in my chest, my anger ultimately winning.
I was going to fucking destroy whoever was doing this to her.
Grateful I’d at least remembered to shove my phone in my pocket on the way out my door, I pulled it out and called my brother.
“Awfully early for a social call,” Lane said in lieu of greeting.
“Get out here now.”
“Where?”
“My house. The guest house.”
I could barely grit the words out from between my clenched teeth. I was trying my fucking best to keep my temper in check, not wanting to distress Reagan any further, but keep it together was difficult.
“What happened?”
“Just get here.”
I hung up before he could say anything else.
This fucker had been in this house, and that realization made me want to burn the whole goddamn thing to the ground.
“Baby,” I whispered when I once again crouched in front of Reagan. “Can I…can I hold you?”
Reagan’s head barely shifted into a nod before I was pulling her into my arms, carrying us into the bedroom and reclining on the bed. She was shivering, whether from fear or the chill caressing her damp skin, I didn’t know.
Likely both.
Knowing my brother would arrive shortly, I finally shifted us to sitting and slid her off my lap, reluctant to let her go. Reagan folded herself in half over her lap, head in her hands.
I rifled through the dresser drawers, coming out with underwear, a sports bra, a pair of leggings, and a baggy tee, laying it all out on the bed.
“Do you need help?” I asked gently.
She shook her head, unfurling herself and standing before me—still entirely unembarrassed to not have a stitch of clothing on.
No, not unembarrassed. Numb. Which was so much worse.
I faced away, ignoring the way my body responded to the soft rustling of clothes behind me.
A knock came at the door when she said, “I’m decent.”
“That’ll be Lane,” I said, glancing at her over my shoulder. “You okay for a second?”
Though she nodded, she trotted behind me when I left the room.
“What the fuck is going on?” Lane demanded loudly when I let him in, bursting the safety bubble I’d attempted to create around Reagan.
“First of all, keep your voice down,” I warned, cutting my eyes to Reagan, who had dropped onto the couch. Her legs were tucked up against her chest, her arms wrapped around them, eyes vacant with a thousand-yard stare. “Follow me.”
Lane spared Reagan a glance, forehead creasing in concern.
I led him back to the master and into the bathroom.
His eyes immediately went to the mirror, the words fading as the steam dissipated.
“What the fuck?”
“She must’ve found it when she got out of the shower,” I explained, noting the glass door to the enclosure was still open, a damp towel strewn carelessly across the floor. “I heard her scream and came right over.”
When he faced me, his eyes were wide, expression grim. “Someone has been in this house, Finn.”
“I know.”
“Who has access but you two? Anyone know the code?”
“Aria,” I said pointedly.
“Yeah, there’s no fucking way our little sister is responsible for this,” he said, agreeing with the warning in my tone.
“It could’ve been unlocked,” I admitted. “I don’t know.”
“Ask her when she calms down,” he said. “It’s obvious we’re not getting anything out of her right now.”
“I didn’t lock the door when I went to dinner last night,” Reagan said from the doorway. Some color had returned to her face, and her green eyes flashed with anger. “I’ve only been locking it at night. I figured it was safe. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s supposed to be safe,” I said, going to her and drawing her into my arms. “And you have nothing to apologize for, belle. This isn’t your fault.”
“Is anything missing?” Lane asked her. “Or disturbed?”
Reagan shook her head, stepping out of my arms to face my brother. “I had this weird feeling when we got back from dinner last night that something wasn’t right, but Finn cleared the house, and I did another check myself before I went to bed.”
“What kind of feeling?” he asked, withdrawing his notebook from his pocket and clicking a pen open.
“Like my space had been disturbed,” she said, eyes cutting to the mirror. The message had completely faded, but the imprint lingered in illegible streaks, reminding us of what hid in plain sight.
“I’m going to call some deputies out to do a sweep and get photos of this,” Lane said. “From now on, make sure your doors are locked at all times.”
“Fuck that.”
Both of them turned to me with identical confused expressions. It would’ve been funny if I wasn’t still battling the fury in my blood.
“What do you mean?” Lane asked.
Ignoring him, I looked at Reagan.
“Pack your shit.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re moving in with me.”
“But—”
I cut her off, not in the mood to entertain her strong, I’m-an-independent-woman shit right now. I was going full caveman, and I didn’t give a single fuck.
“No arguments. I’ll fucking throw you over my shoulder and carry you home if I have to. Now pack. Your. Shit.”
Lane snorted, and I cut him with a glare that had him raising his hands and leaving the room, letting Reagan and I have our little battle of wills without an audience.
Unfortunately for her, she wouldn’t win this battle.
Reagan’s eyes widened at the complete, unrelenting demand in my tone. I half expected her to fight me, to put her foot down and tell me to fuck off.
But this woman continued to surprise me, because she listened for once.
There was a lot of foot-stomping and cursing my name under her breathing happening, but she rooted around in the closet, coming out with two giant rolling suitcases, opened them up on the bed, and started haphazardly throwing clothes into them.
“You’re an asshole,” she muttered, and I knew she purposely said it loud enough for me to hear.
“An asshole who wants to keep you safe.”
She paused, fists resting on the gentle swell of her hips, and faced me. “I can go stay at the motel.”
I chuckled darkly. “Absolutely not. That place has absolutely no security to speak of.”
“It’s just a creepy message,” she retorted. “It’s not like it caused me physical harm.”
“Reagan,” I said softly, closing the distance between us and cupping her face in my hands. “I found you curled up in the corner, sobbing. It may not have caused physical harm, but it still hurt you.”
“Scared the fucking shit out of me,” she admitted.
“And your scream did the same to me.”
“You got here so fast.”
“I will always come for you,” I reminded her. “I need to keep you safe, belle. Please, just…please.”
Our eyes held then, the moment stretching, time around us warping to a standstill. Fuck, I wanted to kiss her so badly but now was absolutely not the time.
Still, the thought must’ve been on her mind too, because her tongue darted out to trace her bottom lip, almost as if trying to direct me where she wanted me.
There would come a day—in the near fucking future—when I’d take her up on that offer, when I’d give into the pull once again.
But today was not it.
I shook my head at the same time Reagan blinked, pulling us out of the moment.
“Can I help?” I asked.
She nodded. “There are some boxes of things in the guest room. Would you bring them out to the car? I can drive everything over.”
Before she could walk away from me, I captured her wrist and hauled her in for a hug, needing to feel her warmth and vitality against me, to reassure myself she was okay. I pressed a kiss to her temple and walked away.
Reagan Lindsey was badass. Strong, independent, didn’t take shit from anyone. The fact that she let me in, was letting me care for her the best way I knew how, was a goddamn miracle.
I was making my third trip outside when two sheriff’s department vehicles pulled up, four of Lane’s deputies getting out.
“Where’s the boss?” Johns asked.
“Here,” Lane said, stepping out of the house before I could speak. “Did you bring what I asked?”
One of the other deputies ducked into the back of the SUV and came out with a large crime scene camera and a briefcase-looking toolbox that likely had CSI equipment inside.
“Good,” my brother nodded. “Master bath. You’ll have to turn the shower on. I want the entire house swept and dusted for prints, but start there.”
The deputies shared looks of confusion at the mention of the shower but wisely didn’t press the issue as they disappeared inside. They’d figure it out soon enough.
My own task completed and not liking the idea of Reagan alone with those guys, I followed them.
“You done?” I asked when I entered the master.
She pulled the zipper closed on the suitcase she was wrestling with, the other one already shut, and said, “Yep.”
“Do you need us for anything else?” I asked Lane when he appeared.
He shook his head. “I know where to find you if I do.”
With a nod, I collected both of Reagan’s suitcases, carrying them instead of wheeling them simply to see the way her eyes glazed over with lust at the flexion of my biceps.
“Like what you see, belle?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “I’d like to see a lot more of it.”
Blood rushed right to my cock, and I was grateful for the stiff denim keeping it in check behind my zipper.
“All you have to do is ask, baby.”
Reagan smirked but didn’t say anything, merely lifted the canvas bag off the floor by her feet and followed me out the door.
A half hour later, her belongings were safely unloaded in one of my guest rooms.
I didn’t tell her how badly I wanted her in my bed.
We’d get there eventually. For now, I was giving her space and time, exactly like I’d promised last night.
Once she was settled in, I said, “So as much as I hate to leave you, I need to get to work.”
My phone had been blowing up all morning, ranch hands and my foreman demanding to know where I was.
I’d already spent too much time away from my duties, and there was a pregnant mare who needed my attention today.
West and I had agreed to take the plane out again today, but it could wait until later. I shot him a quick text saying so.
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got a meeting with Aspen this morning anyway.”
“Great. I’m glad you won’t be alone.”
“See you later?” she asked.
I nodded. “It might be late. West and I have to take care of something this evening.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated. Before I thought better of it, I stepped forward, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and left.