Chapter 6 Heaven and Tiramisu #2
Another bullet sailed past, blasting through a lamp on my coffee table.
There was no time to see if Finn had followed my instructions.
Leaning around the corner, I popped off two rounds, firing blindly in hopes one of my bullets found their intended target.
The sound of glass shattering and footsteps retreating had me up and moving, just in time to see a large figure barrel through what was once my sliding glass door.
I gave chase, ignoring the sting in the bottom of my feet.
“FBI. Get on the ground.”
It was too late though. Fucker was fast, disappearing into the wood line surrounding my home by the time I hit the top step of my deck.
As much as I wanted to keep going, I wouldn’t leave Finn unprotected.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that this break-in was related to the threats he’d been receiving.
Storming back inside, I found Finn standing in the middle of the kitchen. He startled at my approach, but I was on a mission. I needed my phone and my team ASAP.
“Shit, Waverly.”
I waved him off, only to be swept into his arms the next instant.
“What the hell––”
“You must’ve stepped on glass.” He gingerly set me down on top of the counter, spinning me sideways so my feet were in the sink. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Huh?” I laid my gun across my lap.
“First aid kit, baby.” He cupped my cheeks. “Your feet are a bloody feckin’ mess.”
“Oh.” Glancing down, I watch pools of red form under my soles. “Closet in the bathroom, next to the shower. Grab my phone for me first though, please.”
“Where is it?”
Thinking back to last night, I muttered, “My purse on the living room floor.”
“Be right back.” He kissed me quickly, then he was gone.
As the adrenaline worked its way out of my system, it was replaced with a dull ache.
Reaching forward, I turned the faucet on, letting the cool water wash away the evidence of my failure.
I thought we’d be safe. We should’ve been safe, for fuck’s sake.
Shaking my head, I cleared my mind. There was no point in rehashing the coulda, woulda, shouldas.
Whoever was behind these attacks was determined.
They’d met their match though. I didn’t scare easily, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let my guard down a second time.
“Here.” Finn handed me my purse, then sprinted down the hallway.
Taking out my phone, the first call I made was to Shayne, knowing my neighbors had most likely called 911 to report shots being fired.
“I heard it come through dispatch,” she answered. “I’m getting in my car right now. Please tell me you’re okay.”
“We’re fine.”
“We’re? Finn’s there?”
“Yes, he’s here. You can gloat later.”
“I will.” A car door slammed and an engine revved. “Tell me you at least got the bastard.”
“Negative.”
“Shit. I’ll be there in ten.” She hung up.
My fingers hovered over the phone, dreading the next call. Duncan’s protective instincts were next level to the extreme.
“What’s wrong?” His loud bark had me pulling the phone away from my ear for a split second.
“Gather the troops, D. I had an armed visitor of the unwanted variety.”
“Motherfucker!”
“That he was,” I agreed. “He was also a lousy shot.”
“Thank Christ for that,” Finn muttered, placing a red case with a white cross next to me.
“Is that O’Lachlan?” Duncan grumbled. Rather than answer, I put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter.
“We should probably take you to the hospital.”
“What the fuck? You got shot?”
“I’m not a rookie, Duncan. Jesus. I got tiny cuts on my feet from some glass.”
“You might need stitches.”
“You’re not helping the situation, Finn.” Asshole shrugged, then lifted my foot in the air. I flinched, not expecting the wound cleanser to sting like a bitch as it flowed over the open cuts. “Ouch. Take it easy.”
“Sorry, baby. I need it clean so I can see if there’s still glass in there.”
“Whatever.”
I knew I was being ridiculous, but dammit, someone shot at me. That alone was cause enough to be whatever the hell I wanted to be. Raging bitch included.
“Hey, Finn?” Duncan called out.
“Yeah?”
“Remember how I said she was vicious when she’s mad?”
“Yeah.”
“Have fun.” Fucker laughed as he disconnected the call.
I was surrounded by assholes.
How was this my life?
Finn
Even barefoot, pacing back and forth across her living room with gauze wrapped securely around both feet, she was a vision.
She was riled up; practically slaughtering me with her glare when I hinted she might feel better if she sat down and propped her legs up.
It was an exercise in futility I wasn’t likely to repeat.
Her team and best friend arrived within thirty minutes of her initial call, along with crime scene techs, who were snapping an obscene number of photos and dusting for fingerprints.
Questions were rapid-fired at us from every direction, making my head spin, but my girl answered every one of them without batting an eyelash.
She was in her element, and it was sexy as hell.
“All right. I think we have everything we need.” Shayne flipped her notebook shut, pushing off the wall she was leaning against.
“Which doesn’t amount to anything,” Waverly muttered.
“Hey.” The detective moved, blocking her path. “Right now, you aren’t the resident agent in charge of shit. How about you let me determine what I have?”
“Is that the way you wanna play the game, Shayne?”
Stepping between the women, Duncan held out his hands. “Take a breath, both of you.”
The man had balls; I’d give him that much. The jury was still out on whether the two of them would rip them off or not. It was a toss-up.
Shayne skirted Duncan, pulling her friend into a hug. “Sorry, Way. I don’t like this.”
“Same for me on both counts.” Waverly sighed.
Scanning the room, I watched the other four agents shift their gaze away from the pair. It was obvious none of them were used to seeing their boss in such a vulnerable position. They had my respect for giving them a modicum of privacy.
“It’s late.” Lanie stood from the sofa, stretching her arms above her head. “Or early, depending on how you look at it. We could all use some time to refuel and recharge. Let’s reconvene at the office around ten?”
“Perfect. I’m starving.”
“When aren’t you hungry, Koen?” Noah smirked.
“I’m a growing boy,” the blond countered.
“I assume the two of you will be staying at your house?” Duncan posed the question to me.
When I’d spoken with Joel earlier, he said he, Wes, and Noreen would wait for us there. It had taken a miracle to convince Noreen not to show up at Waverly’s. The only thing stopping her was the fact she didn’t have the address. I’m positive she’d correct the small oversight within a few hours.
“Yes.” I monitored Waverly. I’d assumed, but hadn’t asked, so when she didn’t react to my statement, I went for broke. “We’ll be staying there indefinitely.”
“Like hell we will.”
I should’ve cut my losses.
“Baby––”
“Do not baby me.” She fisted her hands on her hips.
Noah coughed in his fist. “Oh shit.”
“I’ve got a state-of-the-art security system, Waverly.”
“And I’ve got a gun, Finnian.”
This was going nowhere fast. Thankfully, Shayne intervened. I’d have to buy the woman something to show my appreciation.
“Your house is a crime scene, Way.”
“I’m well aware,” she growled.
“Then you’re also aware it’ll remain that way until I say otherwise.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, stop being so damn hardheaded and take your hot Irish guy up on his offer.”
“Fine.”
Though from the way she ground the word out, she was anything but fine.
It was a fight for another day. I’d take what I could, then work my arse off to make it better later.
Sexual favors aside, I had a few tricks up my sleeve; mainly Noreen and Sloane.
I also wasn’t above using the twins to score a few extra points either.
I’d use whatever means necessary. My heart was invested in a future with this woman.
Only time would tell if she felt the same.
“Are you sure you’re okay, sweet girl?” Noreen asked for the fourth time.
The minute we walked in the door, I circumvented the three people mulling around the living room and pulled Waverly up the stairs to my room.
I would’ve loved to have gotten her in the shower, where I could’ve taken my time washing her worries away, but the bandages on her feet needed to stay dry and in place for at least a few more hours.
Instead, I sat her on the end of the bed while I changed into a pair of black sweatpants and a T-shirt.
Afterward, I gave her the option of locking out the world, or taking it on.
Since we were currently munching on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies at the table; take a guess which one she chose.
“Just pissed.”
“The cookies will help.” Noreen pulled another dozen out of the oven.
Rolling his eyes at his wife, Joel turned to me. “Do they have any leads?”
“Nothing yet. It was too dark for either of us to see anything.”
“My team will canvas the neighborhood later today. Hopefully someone caught our guy on camera,” Waverly added.
“So you didn’t notice anything about the guy? Height? Weight? Nothing?”
Wes was pissing me off. Apparently, not just me.
“So sorry,” my girl snapped. “I was too busy dodging bullets to ask him for his ID.”
“Thank goodness for quick reflexes. Did they teach you that at the academy?” God bless Noreen and her uncanny ability to know how to change the subject.
“Sort of?”
“That’s wonderful, dear. Now finish your snack.” She pointed to the plate in front of us. “Then the two of you should head to bed. You’ve had a rough night. Everything will look brighter once you’ve had a good night’s rest.”
Shoving half a cookie in my mouth, I laced my fingers with Waverly’s and stood. “Good idea. Lock up on your way out.”
“We aren’t going anywhere.”
Crumbs flew from my mouth. “Joel, you don’t have to stay.”
“We’re. Not. Going. Anywhere.” His tone permitted no argument.
“Suit yourself.” Leaving them to clean up, we made our way through the spacious house, back to my second-floor bedroom. “I’ll give you the full tour sometime after we wake up.”
“I’d appreciate it, otherwise I might get lost in this monstrosity.”
She flopped face first onto the king-sized bed. Kicking off my shoes, I followed her down, lying on my side to face her.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s beautiful, Finn.”
She inhaled deeply, then released a shuttering breath as I began rubbing circles along her back.
The longer we lay there, the more relaxed she became, which was my intention.
She deserved so much more than my weak attempts to comfort her.
She’d saved our lives, for heaven’s sake, and gotten injured in the process.
Christ, the image of her bloody footprints on the kitchen floor was something I’d never get over.
“Thank you.” My whispered words were inadequate, but if I said the three words that were on the tip of my tongue, I’d be chasing her down again. She wasn’t ready to hear them yet, regardless of how true they were.
Assuming she’d fallen asleep, I slowly sat up, pulling the blanket from the end of the bed over the both of us, then reached behind me to flick off the bedside lamp. When I slid my arm under her head, she turned, curling into my side.
Her shaky voice penetrated the stillness. “I’ve never been more scared in my life than I was tonight.”
“Baby.” I wrapped my other arm around her waist, pulling her tight against me.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost anyone else who means something to me. It’s why, up until recently, Shayne and Duncan were the only people who were truly able to get past my walls. But you’ve made me forget all the reasons why I built them to begin with.”
“Sorry?”
“No, you’re not.” She chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not either. It was a pretty lonely existence.”
Going for broke a second time in one night wasn’t what I had planned.
Sure, she was in my arms at the moment, however, I wasn't delusional enough to believe my luck wouldn’t run out eventually.
Choosing my words carefully was imperative, otherwise I’d spook her.
Unfortunately, my mouth didn’t get the memo.
“When I came to Huntington, I didn’t have a plan beyond finding you. Sloane found this house. It’d be great for a family, but I’m not attached to it. I’ll leave it up to you.”
“Leave what up to me? What are you saying, Finn?”
“If I thought your answer would be yes, I’d ask you to move in with me right this second. Instead, I’d like you to think about whether you could see yourself living here with me someday.”
Her head lifted off the mattress; her emerald eyes carved a path straight through to my soul. “What if I said no?”
“I’d start looking for something else immediately.”
“What? Why? This is a nice house.”
“I’m forty years old, Waverly, I’m not looking for a house. I’m looking for a home.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Don’t say anything. Just think about it. Nothing has to be decided in the next five minutes.” I’d given her more to think about than I probably should’ve. When she yawned, I knew it was enough. Kissing the top of her head, I said, “Go to sleep, baby.”
“Mkay.”
With the events of the night threatening to play on repeat in my dreams, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d follow her into slumber. Or so I thought, until her sleepy confession eased my troubled mind.
“I like you a whole lot, Finnian O’Lachlan.”
“I like you a whole lot too, Waverly Mitchell.”
A whole feckin’ lot.