Chapter 36 Caroline
CAROLINE
“Oh, fuck.” My back arches as I buck against Finn’s thrusts.
He fills me roughly as sweat sheens on my skin.
It’s barely eight in the damn morning and I’m already on the edge of exploding.
I grab the headboard, pushing back against it, and he devours my mouth with his before finding my nipples with his lips.
He sucks hard, grinding and fucking me, until my eyes roll back and I shatter like a porcelain vase.
He’s not far behind. Finn floods me to the brim, letting loose a toe-curling, masculine growl of bliss. It’s my most favorite sound in the whole world. He grins, kissing my neck, and I sigh with total contentment.
“Good morning.” I run my fingers through his hair. “You know, when I used to sleep in the other room, I didn’t get woken up at the crack of dawn.”
“No, and you’re much happier now.” He sighs and pulls me against him, spooning me tightly, heedless that we’re naked, damp, and postcoital. I love that about him. Totally in the moment. “Besides, this isn’t the crack of dawn. I let you sleep in.”
“Wait, were you watching the clock or something? How long have you been awake?”
“Since six.”
“Finn! You’ve been lying there for two hours?”
“I had my phone.”
“You were creeping on your phone waiting to wake me up so you could fuck me?”
“I’d drop the word creeping from that sentence, but yes.”
“Creeping. Shame on you.”
“You’re shaming me because I find my sleeping wife attractive.”
“Why do I have to be sleeping?!”
“I find you beautiful no matter your state of consciousness.” He kisses me, grinning. “Don’t overthink it.”
I put my hand on his chest and give him a serious look. “What if I were dead? What if you found me naked and dead and beyond saving with one last chance to make love to me? Would you do it?”
He seriously considers, the sick bastard. “How warm are you?”
“Finn! No!” I shove him back and he’s laughing.
I grin back, trying to come to terms with this strange relationship we’ve built.
Somehow, I’ve found someone as sick and damaged as I am, a man willing to eat my pizza, to ignore my scars, to even find them beautiful, and who is happy to make necrophilia jokes after vigorous morning lovemaking.
I didn’t even like him when we first met. Now he’s all I think about.
I get out of bed and shower. He comes in a little while after and we talk while he’s in the water.
I dress, brush teeth, do my usual routine.
But now Finn’s there, glorious Finn, and he’s funny.
He makes me laugh, and I don’t even think he’s using humor to deflect from his pain like he used to.
Smiling and jokes were his mask for a long time. Now it’s just him.
My phone rings as I tug my jeans on. He comes out of the bathroom in just a towel and glances over. “Who’s that?”
“My mom.” I frown at the screen. It’s just about nine in the morning now. “Why would she be calling this early?”
“You should answer.”
“I don’t know. I don’t really feel like talking to her.” I think back to the last time. How she promised to keep our secret, but she still couldn’t admit there was a secret at all.
“Just answer. I’ll kiss your feet while you do it.”
“God, you’re weird. That’s not an incentive.” But I raise the phone up anyway and hit accept before she goes to voicemail. “Hey, Mom—”
Something shatters in the background and there’s a loud, indistinct shout of anger.
“Caroline, oh, god, Caroline, they’re killing each other!
” She’s shrill and terrified, and I immediately look over at Finn, my heart racing.
He must see the seriousness of the call on my phone and comes over, holding his towel with one hand.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“It’s Mal and Dermot. They’re fighting over something.
Oh, God, your father called them in for a meeting, but now it’s going all wrong.
They’re going to kill each other!” Mom shrieks and something smashes near her.
“Caroline, please, I need help. They need help!” She shouts away from the phone: don’t do it, Mal, please, God, get off him!
“We’re on the way! Mom? We’re coming. Mom?!”
There’s a scuffle, a scream, and the line goes dead.
I stare numbly down at my phone then up at Finn.
He’s already dressed.
“Come on,” he says, pulling me behind him.
“We have to hurry.” He pauses only to grab a gun from his drawer before we sprint out of the building and down to his car.
The BMW roars to life and Finn breaks a few laws as he speeds over to my father’s place.
I try calling Mom a few more times, but she doesn’t pick up. Mal, Dermot, and Dad all ignore me too.
I don’t know why I’m panicking. This is what we wanted, right? But the terror in my mother’s voice makes me think that everything was so much worse than I could’ve pictured, and I didn’t want her to get dragged into it.
Finn parks out front. He hesitates just a moment before getting out. “We should call for backup. Cormac and Seamus—”
I jump out before he can try to stop me. I hear him curse as I rush inside. I don’t know what I’ll find, but the door is unlocked and the place blasts me straight in the skull with how deathly, eerily quiet it is.
My heart’s an explosion in my chest. My throat’s closed up and I’ve never been so scared in my life.
I drift a few steps toward my father’s study, but Finn comes pounding up behind me.
He grabs my arm and stops me. “We should wait,” he snarls, his gun out.
His eyes scan the room constantly, intensely alert for danger.
But I can only point toward the hallway. “Blood,” I whisper. I think I might throw up. I swallow bile.
He spots it then. A splash of blood on the wall.
He moves toward it and I stay close. Ahead, there’s more blood smeared on the carpet like someone was dragged.
There was a struggle: paintings knocked askew, a shattered vase with flowers scattered all over, a cracked hole in the drywall.
And more blood. So much blood. Whoever did this, they can’t possibly still be alive.
Finn continues forward. I want him to stop.
Whatever’s ahead, I don’t want to see it.
The trail leads directly toward my father’s office, and it’s the last place I want to go.
That room is my hell. It’s my nightmare.
The thought of following a trail of blood to that slaughterhouse is utterly against everything I am.
“Please, wait,” I croak, but Finn keeps going.
He’s a force of nature now. He sweeps ahead, straight for the door.
I stop a few feet back, tears streaming down my face.
There’s so much blood here it’s unbelievable.
It sops into my shoes. It sticks to my soles with every step.
Finn makes a soft, mushy, sloppy noise as he stomps through the muck of it.
The door’s open. He shoulders it aside, moving in with the gun outstretched. He surveys the room, and my god, I wish he’d stop. I want to go home. I’ll make pizza, we can sauna, go for a swim, pretend this sickness hasn’t spread—
But he spots something. His lips tug into an angry snarl and his gun lowers. “Caroline, hurry.” He turns and looks at me. “It’s your mother.”
That finally breaks the spell. I rush forward and lunge through the door.
The office is an abomination. Books are tossed all over. There’s more blood splashed across the floor. There was clearly some kind of fight here. Dad’s priceless little artifacts are snapped. Millions of dollars in statues, fine art, and rare collectibles are ruined.
And there’s my mother, sitting at the base of his desk, her head propped back, her hands demurely in her lap. Her eyes are barely open and her breathing is shallow.
I run to her. I kneel down at her side. “Oh, God, Mom, hold on. We’ll call an ambulance.”
She turns her chin toward me. Her smile is weak, and she’s drenched in blood. There are multiple stab wounds all over her chest. Dozens of them. One nasty gash is sliced from her neck like someone went for her throat but missed. Her skin’s pale and waxy. Her lips are ashen.
“Don’t bother,” she wheezes. Red spittle flecks her teeth. “I never thought… they’d actually do it…”
“Mom.” I take her hand tightly in mine. Tears roll down my cheeks. “Please, hold on.” I look back at Finn. He’s watching the doorway like a guard. “Call the police.”
“Already told Seamus to bring our doctor. He’s on the way.” But Finn doesn’t sound like he thinks that’ll happen in time.
“It’s fine,” Mom says, voice like dried-out paper. “I thought… they’d never go this far. But I should have… realized sooner.” She grimaces in pain as she touches my cheek. “They’re monsters… my boys were… monsters.”
“Who did this to you?”
“Dermot… Malachy… your father… God, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop them.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Mom. You did what you could. Just save your strength.”
“I should have saved you…” She trails off, her eyes going unfocused. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I’m so sorry. Find my boys… help them…”
“Are they still alive?”
“Dermot’s hurt. Mal’s… gone. Your father… he left me too.” Her smile is bitter. “I tried to stop them…” She sighs, one long, rattling breath, and goes still. Her eyes flutter as she loses consciousness. She slumps against me.
“Mom, please wake up. You have to stay with me! Mom!” I lay her down gently and try to shake her, but there’s so much blood. It’s coming out slower from her wounds, like the last dregs of a cracked bottle.
“Come on, I’ve got you now.” Finn’s hands are strong and clean. He tugs me back from my mother’s body. From her unmoving corpse. “Seamus will clean this up. If she can be saved, they’ll save her.”
But I know she’s past that. He knows it too.
I stare at her as righteous anger slowly rolls down my spine. I wipe my face, leaving another smear of blood across my cheek, and turn to my husband. He seems mildly surprised when I grab him by the wrist.
“We have to finish what she started.”
“Caroline—”
“They’re hurt. They were fighting. We have to find them, and I know where we’re going first.”
He watches me, and I know what he’s thinking. I’m not thinking straight. I just lost my mother in the most brutal way imaginable.
And he’s completely right, but that doesn’t change a damn thing.
They’re weak. My brothers are injured. Which means they’re vulnerable, and now it’s time. We pushed them to their limit, but I don’t think it was enough.
They’re still alive, but only for now.
Finn follows me from the office, back to the car, and he doesn’t argue when I tell him where to go.