Chapter 4 Finn
FINN
This beer tastes like piss.
I’m on my third, but it’s not helping. I came back into Jayne’s thinking alcohol would dull the ache Mira left in my chest. Make me forget how the skin of her soft, perky tits felt in my hands.
Make me forget the way she moaned on my cock or how she looked up at me with such innocence and submission.
But all it’s done is make me more miserable.
I didn’t fuck her. I should have. I shouldn’t have wasted time having her go down on me. That was a mistake. And now she’s gone—run off with that mouthy friend of hers, Sandy. And I’m sitting here on my own, going completely insane just thinking about her.
Mira. My princess. With her gorgeous honey-sweet eyes and her rosy red cheeks. The way she enthusiastically went down on me like she was just dying to brag that she was able to deepthroat my entirety.
I should have pulled out, bent her over my bike, and taken her.
Spread her little virgin cunt open and pounded her while she screamed my name into the night.
But Mira’s not like any other women I’ve met.
She’s different. She’s mine, and I need to treat her like the treasure she is.
Every cell in my body knows this. Maybe that’s why I’ve been holding back.
I set my empty bottle down on the bartop, the glass clinking against the wood.
“Another?” Cherry, the girl tending bar tonight, asks, already reaching. I shrug and nod. Fuck it. Might as well drown myself in the stuff.
She sets the bottle down in front of me, and I stare down into the foam, lost in thoughts of her. Her cute little smile, the way she stood up for me to her friend who no doubt saw me as just another tatted-up biker with no use other than fixing up rich girls’ cars when they need it.
But Mira looks at me like I’m something more. And that surprises me. I thought I was just a fling to her. A one-night stand before the wedding. But could I have been wrong? When I picture her eyes in my mind, I see more there. I see gentleness, caring.
And now she’s gone.
And soon she’ll belong to someone else forever.
I drove by her house after she left, using the address my cop buddy got me. But her car wasn’t there. I sat outside waiting for her to come home, but when security spotted me, I had to bail before they got a look at my face.
Chances are she’s just with Sandy, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s with her fiancé, whoever the hell he is. And whenever I think about that, it’s like an onslaught of painful visions slamming into me one after the other.
Engaged…
My jaw tightens. I gulp down half my beer in an attempt to drown out the wretched reality.
She said no when I suggested he was a doctor or a lawyer, but that doesn’t mean he’s not some other kind of suit.
Some preppy prick her parents would approve of.
Because that’s what matters in the end: whether or not the Coolidges approve.
I take another sip of my beer, but I don’t even taste it anymore. I barely even register the door to the bar opening either, but when a boisterous, arrogant voice calls out, “Top shelf scotch, my good woman!” my teeth clench down on each other like I’m trying to bite cavities into them.
“And when I say top shelf, I mean top shelf!” The voice is grating, oozing with money and entitlement.
Annoyed, I half turn around and see four guys, completely out of place, with striped dress shirts and loosened ties, pricey watches on their wrists and shit-eating grins plastered across their faces.
They also look like they spent more time on their hair this morning than Cherry did.
The guy running his loud mouth is tall and clearly in shape, with swept-back sandy hair and a spray tan. “My boss is such a nut-buster,” he roars. “If I hadn’t pulled in six-mill this month, he’d still be riding my ass.”
“Yeah, cause you’re the new blood,” another guy chuckles. “And quit whining. You’re his pet because you’re banging his daughter.”
I go still, my beer centimeters from my lips.
“Fiancée,” the arrogant prick corrects him, snatching his drink from Cherry. “That’s what the big rock on her finger means, bro.”
“Yeah, yeah, suck this big rock,” his pal clowns him. “What’s her name again?”
“Mira.”
Every muscle in my body goes tense. All the breath escapes my lungs.
Mira.
This fucking snobby dickhead is her fiancé?
I watch him toss back his scotch like I’m watching a horror movie in slow-motion, my fingers curling around my beer bottle like I could shatter it.
He laughs and pounds his chest—a laughable attempt at masculinity.
“She’s a good girl, you know what I mean?
A little too good? But I guess I can’t complain.
She comes with a massive dowry, and once we’re hitched, no way her dad can fire me. His company is as good as mine.”
His buddies roar with laughter as he continues, bragging about his future conquests and how he’s going to take over and become head of the family.
Every word out of his mouth about my princess is degrading.
This guy doesn’t give a single fuck about her happiness.
He just wants her for her money. He goes on and on until I can’t take it anymore.
I stand, every fiber of my being on fire.
“Tyler,” one of his friends asks, “are you still seeing that chick from Lake Chelcuya? The one who loves anal?”
“You know it.” Tyler grins. “Told Mira I had to work late, and she bought it. Fucking clueless!”
For some reason, his eyes turn toward me, but I’m already moving—
Out the door and into the night.
I’m gasping for breath as I stride to my bike. It takes all my will to unclench my fists. It was nearly impossible to get my ass up and out of there, but I knew if I stayed, I’d end up doing a night in jail for assault and battery.
Rage runs through my veins like lava. The son of a bitch is cheating on her, my princess.
Not only that, but he’s openly bragging and laughing about it too, as if he knows he’ll never face any consequences.
And why would he? He mentioned Mira coming with a dowry, so it’s pretty clear he’s just in it for the money and the power.
But does Mira know that?
I pace outside the bar beside my bike, taking deep breaths, fighting to calm my heartrate. I’m walking a tightrope. My eyes keep moving to the door. They’re still inside, still drinking, still bellowing loudly like their money makes them untouchable.
It would be so easy to just walk right in there and tear them all apart.
They wouldn’t be able to even put up a fight.
It would be no contest. I was built on the street, like a piece of iron hammered into the shape of a sword.
Those guys were raised behind desks and in air-conditioned mansions, raised to believe they’re better than the rest of us.
But that’s not the right move here. I have a better plan.
I don’t care that Mira’s engaged. Not anymore.
She’s engaged to a liar, a cheater, a man who absolutely does not deserve her. She deserves a man who will worship her, ruin himself for her, treat her like the princess she is. And I’m that guy.
So instead of storming back inside and handling things with my fists, I step into the shadows and wait.
I can practically feel the steam coming off my head as I fight back thoughts of Tyler putting his hands on Mira.
Has she let him yet? Or is she holding out for marriage?
She is only eighteen, and it’s not like Tyler is the most charming guy in the world.
No, I believe she’s innocent. That sweet valley between her thighs is still unclaimed and will be mine. It’s only a matter of time.
Two hours later, Tyler and his crew stumble out of Jayne’s and into the night air, laughing like drunks, vaping like tools, and strutting around like they own the land the bar was built on. Tyler pulls out his phone and sends a text while muttering something about “keeping the fiancée happy.”
More lies.
My pulse beats heavily as I watch him from the darkness, eyes narrow and jaw clenched tight.
“I’ll get an…fucking Uber home,” he mutters to his friends as they hop in an Audi. Drunk sons of bitches will probably end up killing themselves or someone else.
I wait until Tyler’s ride shows up, get on my bike, and follow.
Quietly. Carefully. Keeping a good distance as he heads through downtown and then up the road toward Lake Chelcuya.
Ten minutes later, he stops in front of a quaint little cottage on the edge of town.
A blonde opens the door wearing a robe with clearly nothing else underneath.
She kisses him like she hasn’t seen him in a month and moves his hands to her ass.
Ah, the loves-anal girl.
Tyler shows no shame as he gropes her and makes out with her, clearly not worried about anyone finding out.
Little does he know…
I pull out my phone and snap a picture of him kissing her, both hands hungrily grabbing her ass. Once he steps inside and closes the door, I pull away, heart racing with purpose.
Now it’s more than just wanting Mira for my own. It’s about saving her from this.
From him.
Even if she resists. Even if she doesn’t want to be saved. I haven’t been able to catch a full breath since the first time I had her in the storage closet back at the shop, and I know I won’t be able to breathe again until she’s in my house, in my bed, and in my life for good.
I’m not a doctor, a lawyer, or whatever it is Tyler does, but I’m loyal. I’m strong. I have hands that fix things, a home that’s safe, and a heart that beats only for her.
You’re mine, Mira.
You just don’t know it yet.
But you will. Soon.
Very soon.