Chapter 24
Twenty-four
Finn closed the front door behind him with a quiet click.
But nothing felt quiet. Not with his pulse hammering in his ears, and his teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached. He shouldn’t have let her in. Not into his house. Not into his team. And not into his head.
She was the Fed.
The weapon they’d sent to gut his squad from the inside, the polite executioner in a smart suit. To shut him down.
And he’d let her get close.
Hell, he’d fought her, barked and bristled and shoved back. But he’d still let her in. Trusted her.
Dammit, he’d kissed her!
And now look where they were.
He strode down the hallway like a man ready to break something.
Who sent you? The words burned in his throat.
He wasn’t just angry. He was furious at himself for thinking that she could be different. That maybe she understood him. And that maybe she gave a damn.
Light spilled from the spare room. He stepped in—
And stopped cold.
The air shifted and all that heated rage cracked. All at the sight of…Taryn. Asleep.
Curled up in front of the wall art she’d built with red string stretched from corner to corner, pinning photos, paperwork, and notes.
She’d colour-coded connections, flagged key stations, brands, names, and dates.
His Gaps File, which had once been a chaotic mess, was now mapped into an organised war plan, listing out facts and timelines.
And she’d done all that while he was gone.
But it wasn’t the files that stopped him cold.
It was the photo.
Pinned to the wall apart from the web of notes and names, hung a photo he’d never seen before.
It was of a young woman, with curly brown hair, smiling like the world was a safe place. The caption beneath it was written by Taryn: Meghan Forrester.
For the first time, Finn put a face to the name of the young woman he’d only ever known as Izzy’s assistant. The one who’d been brutally murdered, sending Izzy running for cover in Elsie Creek, long before Finn had even heard of Everlight Energy Solutions.
And just like that, everything shifted.
Taryn hadn’t come to take the Stock Squad down. She’d come for Meghan.
No one, not even Red’s crew or Taryn’s boss, knew that. They all thought they were using her to shut down the squad, and for Finn to drive her out of town—just like they’d planned.
But Taryn Hayes was the wildcard they hadn’t accounted for.
Hell, he hadn’t accounted for her either.
And suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.
She wasn’t the weapon.
She was the one fighting beside him.
Not because someone told her to, but because she gave a damn. Because it mattered. Her true motive for being here, and why she was putting in all this effort, was for her cousin. She was chasing justice for her family. For blood.
And for a man who’d lost his family—that meant more than anything.
He dropped to a crouch beside her, all that fire in his chest now gone.
He didn’t touch her, just looked at her. The ink smudge on her wrist. The crease between her brows, even as she slept, as if working behind those closed lids. The way she’d folded herself down like she didn’t belong here, but had done everything to stay anyway, no matter how hard he’d pushed her.
The stubborn thing.
He reached out, gently brushing her soft hair from her face, her beauty making his throat tighten.
Even though she may have come to shut him down in the beginning—but now? Hiding behind her job for her own reasons… Who was using who?
‘Who sent you?’
Did she even know the answer?
Carefully, he slid one arm beneath her knees, the other under her shoulders, and lifted her.
She stirred but didn’t wake, releasing a soft breath against his collarbone, as her head fell against his chest like it belonged there.
Damn… He held her closer than he’d meant to.
Taryn Hayes. The woman who’d met him blow for blow with wit, sarcasm, and federal procedure, had never let him off the hook. His enemy, so soft in his arms, asleep, made something inside crack.
Sure, she was all sharp edges and stubborn pride in the daylight—but seeing her like this stirred something primal inside him. Something protective.
She shifted slightly in his arms, her nose brushing that place where his neck met his shoulder as if snuggling up to him.
If she’d been awake, she would’ve made a smart-arse comment, demanding he put her down.
But she wasn’t.
Heaven help him—his body noticed.
Not in a way he could shake off. It wasn’t lust or heat, but something deep beneath his skin, to settle there like it had always belonged.
His throat burned. His chest ached. Like he’d been holding a breath for years and hadn’t realised it until now.
She may have come to tear down everything he’d built. And yet, she was the only one who’d seen him for who he really was. The criminal under the badge, and the desperate fighter clinging onto something worth keeping in a life full of wrongs.
She snuggled up to him, asleep in his arms like he was safe. Like he was the thing worth trusting. And that—
That undid him
Where in that stillness as the world slept around him, he finally allowed himself to feel…
The shape of her in his arms. The warmth of her against his chest, where the strange, impossible peace of a man who’d spent years surrounded by chaos, was somehow left holding the calm he never knew he’d craved until now.
He carried her into his room, to the big bed that he’d made with fresh black sheets, and laid her down so gently, like she might vanish if he moved too fast.
He didn’t linger.
And he didn’t let himself touch her again.
He just stood there, arms burning with the memory, with his weary heart now thudding with life, somewhere beneath the armour he hadn’t taken off in years.
Then he left her alone.