Chapter 31 Finn
FINN
Every day is an agony.
Not because of the stupid pain. I can handle that.
I don’t even bother with meds most days, except for the antibiotics.
Caroline’s got a little schedule written down and she makes sure I follow it.
“Pills time, pills time,” she sings as she all but shoves them down my throat.
“Now bandage time, bandage time, let’s change it, clean it, make it right. ”
On the second night of my captivity, Caroline moves into my bed for good.
We fuck constantly, or as much as my injured arm can handle, which is probably more than most normal people want.
I pass out each night with her snuggled up against me, wondering how in the hell I’ve gone from living all alone all my life to having this girl in my bed and how it feels so damn natural.
She cooks for me. It’s bizarre how much I like it.
I find her in the kitchen working her way through a new recipe, humming as she does it, and there’s this look she gets.
It lights her whole face up. She’s so damn excited to share whatever she’s doing with me, and I love sitting there and listening.
The good food is great too, but mostly it’s the way she moves around the kitchen, the way she organizes everything, cleans as she goes, laughs at my jokes and admonishes my dirty mind.
Without her, this would be hell.
I hate being stuck inside, but I have to get past the worst of the healing before I can risk going out in public again.
But Caroline makes it easy. Or at least she makes it bearable.
Time slips past. I keep contact with my network via phone. My brothers don’t seem to suspect anything, but that’s pretty normal. They’re always too busy with their own lives to notice anything I’ve been doing.
Not that I mind. It’s been a good system for a long time. I float around the periphery of the family, pretending like I’m just a good-for-nothing younger brother, smiling and cracking jokes, and in exchange they mostly leave me alone.
Which really works in my benefit now.
After two weeks, I ditch the sling. I’m still tender and can’t quite raise my arm right, but Caroline takes it upon herself to learn a bunch of stretches and exercises I can do to help with my recovery.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” I snarl at her one morning after she forces me through the whole routine. My shoulder throbs from the effort.
“Damn right I do. Nothing better than torturing a Whelan.”
“You sound like your brothers.”
She bats me lightly on the top of my head. “Not funny.”
“A little funny.”
Liam visits after three weeks. He shows up with coffee one morning and slumps down in the kitchen. He looks tired and slightly haggard, but that doesn’t worry me. It just means he’s been doing his damn job.
“When you told me the new plan, I thought it wasn’t going to work,” he admits, stretching his legs out with a sigh. “But I swear to god, your brothers are morons.”
“No argument here,” Caroline concedes. “What are they doing?”
“Well, they’re swallowing every single rumor I seed out there with basically zero due diligence. I’d say Malachy’s even worse than Dermot. He’s almost losing his mind.”
I glance at Caroline and she seems thoughtful. “What exactly have you been seeding?” I ask.
“Basic stuff. Rumors about Dermot becoming heir, about Malachy taking over more responsibility and pushing Dermot out, about your father purposefully putting the boys against each other. Stuff like that. And the fucked-up part is, I’m pretty sure half the shit I’m making up is actually true, or at least it becomes true the second I say it. ”
“They’re jockeying.” Caroline looks bright and happy. Which is odd, considering the context. “Anything overt yet?”
“No action against each other, if that’s what you mean. But both of them have definitely made a few quiet contacts with outside mercenary groups.”
“Jesus. They’re going to war.” Caroline practically bubbles over with a laugh.
“Don’t get too excited.” I frown at Liam, considering. “How reliable is your source?”
“It’s solid. All first-hand stuff.”
“We thought it was solid before, remember? That turned out to be a trap.”
His expression hardens and he glances down at the floor. “I’m not making that mistake again.”
“I know you aren’t, but the Flanagans aren’t stupid. They’ve been in this business long enough to see through our game.”
“Not Dermot or Mal. You should’ve seen them.” Caroline hops up to sit on the counter. “They’re going insane, Finn.”
“Maybe, but I want to make sure we’re not getting played again.” I touch my tender shoulder. “Liam, keep going, but be skeptical of everything you hear. Don’t trust anyone.”
“You think I look this tired because I’ve been wandering around like an idiot listening to any asshole who wants to sell me information?” He sighs and rubs his face. “I’m on top of it.”
Caroline perks up and bumps her head on the cabinet. She groans and jumps down, rubbing her neck. “I have an idea.”
“I hope it’s a good one or else you just concussed yourself for no reason.”
“Guns. Lots of guns.”
“Yeah, you definitely hit yourself too hard.”
She waves me away. “Dermot’s not a gun guy, right? He likes computers and games. He’s not hitting the streets. But what if he suddenly had a little armory in his apartment?”
“That would look very suspicious,” Liam agrees.
I give him a look. “Don’t just agree with everything she says.”
“Only when it makes sense.”
“Trust me, if Malachy somehow found Dermot’s place filled with guns, he’d flip out. Why would Dermot need weapons? Unless he was going to war.”
I hold my hands up. “What happened to slowing down? It’s one thing to seed rumors, but this is something else. You’re talking an actual ground operation.”
“Liam, does it sound like Mal and Dermot are going to fight each other for real without a push?”
He shrugs slightly and glances at me with a frown. “Honestly, no, not really. There are murmurs, but nothing remotely concrete.”
“Then we need to make it real.” Caroline jabs a finger against the counter. “We plant guns in Dermot’s apartment. I know the exact spot too. He’s got storage he basically never uses. Mom keeps Christmas ornaments in there.”
“Your mother keeps ornaments in Dermot’s place?”
“I know, but you’d be surprised at how many she has.
” Caroline starts pacing, and I know that’s a bad sign.
“This could work. It’s low risk. I just have to get Dermot out of his apartment for a few hours.
I know the security codes. We’ll disable his cameras, slip inside, plant the guns, sneak back out, and leak the rumors to Malachy. Hell, we’ll give him photographs.”
I know that look on her face and I can already see how this is going to play out. Liam seems thoughtful and isn’t pushing back, which means I have to be the one to break the news to her: this is an insane risk. But as I’m about to open my mouth, I stop.
Since when did I become the cautious one?
I went into this relationship thinking it would be the last thing I ever did.
I never really thought I’d kill all of the Flanagan brothers before they got me.
Two is about the best I figured I’d do, and right now it’s good odds I’ll get at least one more.
But now I don’t want this to be the end.
Now I have a reason to keep on going. My past isn’t everything to me anymore.
My future with Caroline is more important.
But she’s not stopping. Her free fall is only speeding up, and I can tell there’s only one way to end this.
And that’s to drown in blood.
“I’ll do it.” I look from Liam to Caroline. Neither responds at first. “I’ll plant the guns.”
“Finn…” Caroline hesitates, shaking her head. “You’re still hurt.”
“I can handle this one. It’s the least I can do after nearly getting you killed.”
I hold up a hand. “I do this. Give me one more week to heal. That’ll put me right at a month. I’m regaining mobility every day and the pain’s nearly gone. One more week of rumors and then we move.”
Caroline doesn’t like it. She wants to go-go-go, no brakes, no slowing, but I can almost see something spark in her. Like she realizes what she’s doing.
“A week might not hurt,” she says reluctantly. “And you are doing pretty good.”
I move to her and pull her against my side. She curls into me with a soft exhale. I kiss her hair and breathe her smell. “I want to be the one who breaks them, remember? Even if it breaks me too.”
“I don’t want that.” She chews her lip uncertainly. “Do you think it’s going to end up like last time?”
“I won’t let it.” I look over to Liam. He’s finishing his coffee and getting to his feet. “Gather the materials and start coming up with a plan. We’ll move in a week.”
“Sounds good to me.” He nods and turns to leave, but stops before he can go. “By the way, your brothers have been sniffing around.”
“Really?” That gets my attention. “They say anything?”
“Nothing important. Just some questions about what you’ve been up to. How you’ve been. I told them you’re busy, that’s all.”
“Stick to that story.”
“Will do.” He slinks off and the door clicks shut behind him.
Caroline gets on her toes and kisses my neck. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“I can carry a few boxes into an apartment.”
“I know, but if it goes wrong—”
“It won’t.” I stroke my fingers through her hair.
She looks unsure. It’s clear she wants to keep racing forward, but maybe whatever we have between us is starting to tug her back. Maybe she’s sensing the same pressures I’ve been feeling.
And if I’m lucky, she’ll start making the same choices.