41. Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-One
Down the scope of a rifle, everything felt remote and distant. Detached. It was easy to kill like this.
The more Finn heard Schmidt’s voice through his earpiece, the closer his finger got to the trigger. It wasn’t nearly so codified as someone like Milford, but he was dangerous in a different way: he had an obsessiveness that made him a threat.
The longer Kathleen was in his presence, the more agitated he grew.
He sought to focus on other things. The sound of Kathleen’s breath was so close in his ear. Not her words so much as the timbre of her voice, like she was conveying silent things to him with the tone of her voice.
Even now, Finn wasn’t sure he would ever be completely whole, but she made him feel complete. He knew he would need to find new lines for himself. Choosing not to kill was a first step, but he knew there was a long way to go before he would accept that he was free of Command’s control. That he was his own person and not their pet assassin.
The longer he was away from them, the more sure he was that they couldn’t control him as well without the Handler. Maybe not at all; now he’d set his mind against them, now that Kathleen had helped him better understand the choices he had. And if they tried—if they came for him or Kathleen—he was prepared.
Reaching up, Finn touched the dangling gold locket hanging from a gold chain around his neck. Kathleen had pulled it out of her jewelry box after she had cut his hair. She had braided the lock of her hair and his together, pressing it into the locket.
“For when you need reminding of me, of us,” she had told him as she settled it around his neck. Every single thing she did made him fall for her even harder.
Finn owed Kathleen everything. He had been sleeping before, and she had woken him and gifted him with free will, with the ability to make choices, with the delirium of happiness and the hot rush of passion. In return, he wanted to give her everything. Everything she ever wanted and everything she never knew she needed.
The internet said he needed to start with flowers, strange as that seemed. The variety of colors and species and the myriad of interpretations for different types had overwhelmed him, and he had been unable to make a decision. Something to tackle another day.
“Good work,” Finn heard Kathleen’s boss saying through the earpiece. “I suppose you could do with a day off. Both of you.”
Finn sighted down the scope. They were standing now, all of them. Schmidt was tucking the USB stick away, and Gibson held the bag of whiskey close to his chest. His attention was swiftly captured by Kathleen, though.
Little wonder. She dominated that space in the yellow dress that clung to her curves. He knew every inch of skin beneath that material. He couldn’t wait to get her out of it later. Or maybe he wouldn’t even bother taking it off her.
“I could use the day,” Kathleen said, and he heard the husk of her voice, the temptation that lurked beneath. She was saying the words to him. Making promises.
“Me too,” Gibson said with a pointed clink of the bottles.
“All right. But I want you both in the office tomorrow for debriefing and full reports. Got it?” Murphy said.
“Yes, ma’am,” both detectives chorused.
They disappeared from his view, and Finn began dismantling the sniper rifle. He could still hear them through the earpiece, making their farewells. The last of hers was to Gibson.
“Thanks,” Kathleen said quietly. “For everything. I—we—both owe you.”
“Sure. Tell tall, dark, and brooding I take IOUs. Not sure I need someone taken out, but I’m sure we’ll figure out something,” Gibson said.
The lightness of his tone suggested he was joking, but Finn was still learning to read the nuances of people’s tones.
“I’ll let him know. Tell Sally I said hi?”
“She’s pissed at you because of the bruising I have, but also glad I’m alive. So if she glares at you at the station tomorrow, you know… maybe bring her in a donut or something?”
“Flowers, Gibson. I’ll bring her flowers.”
“And upstage me? Christ, no. Donuts.”
“Fine, donuts.”
It felt nice, listening to them banter back and forth. The hot jealousy Finn felt—he remembered feeling—when he had first seen them interact was nowhere to be found.
Tucking away the case, he waited on the rooftop. A pair of wooden chairs, worn and weathered, sat alongside a paint-stripped table while neatly kept planters overflowed with lush greenery. The day was already warm, the wispy green fronds that spilled from various planters straining toward the sky.
Finn pulled a hand through his hair, twitching in surprise at the shortness of it. Kathleen had cut it the day before at his request. It was now short at the sides, longer at the top, and he still wasn’t used to it—nor seeing himself in the mirror. The bright-eyed look Kathleen had given him suggested she liked it; he was warming to it as well. Different, but not in a bad way, was a new sensation he was adjusting to.
“Finn?” He heard her soft voice through the earpiece, meant only for him.
“Yes?”
“I love you,” Kathleen said.
Finn was almost glad that Kathleen couldn’t see the way he froze, couldn’t see the warring expression of uncertainty and wariness he no doubt wore as the Hound’s instinct told him she was a danger to him, and his conflicting, joyful reaction at the words. Then again, he would have preferred to see her when she said it.
The warring wants made any response stick in his throat as the silence stretched.
Kathleen didn’t seem to expect any answer, though: he heard the steps of her heels against concrete, the slight elevation of her heartbeat as she climbed.
As she came toward him.
His heart leaped in anticipation.
When the door to the rooftop opened, the first thing he saw was her eyes. It felt like that first time he saw her all over again—everything else fading away, just the brilliant green of her gaze stunning him into immobilization. He now knew the lightheadedness he had felt then as recognition for his mind’s remembering of her as his lover. As his love.
Kathleen drifted toward him, her yellow dress rippling in the faint breeze.
“Say it again,” Finn said.
She smiled, pretending. “Say what?”
“That you love me.”
Finn could see the hesitation in her eyes. He knew it wasn’t any regret for voicing the words—but that she struggled, in her own way, in ways not so different from his own—to voice so freely what she thought and felt.
Her hands came up to cup his face, her soft fingers tracing a slow tickling path over his jaw.
“I love you,” she said.
Her eyes seemed to glitter in the light.
There were still occasions when Finn struggled to find the words—to understand what he was feeling—to voice it aloud. But this? The fluttering warmth that rushed over him as he gazed into her green eyes?
This he knew, and the words spilled out of him, “I love you, too, kitten. You’re amazing.”
“Don’t ever forget it,” she said.
“I won’t,” Finn promised, wrapping his arm around her middle and pulling her against him.
His lips teased over hers, and he felt her faint hum of approval as his hand coiled through her soft, dark hair. They stayed there, trading light kisses, reaffirming all the wordless things between them.
“Dance with me,” he murmured into her ear.
“Here?” Kathleen laughed, tilting her head back and shading her eyes against the bright sunlight to look at him. “Wait, why?”
“Because I want to. Because I love you. Because I can.”
They were three compelling reasons, and Kathleen knew it too, if the warmth in her answering smile was any judge. She rose on her tiptoes, her hands curving into his short hair as her lips brushed his.
“Anything you want, Finn.”
He pulled her against him, feeling her warmth through the thin sundress. His hands glided down her bare shoulders and down her back, settling in the curve of her spine before he moved. It was less a formal dance than a sway, but he didn’t care. He was with the woman he loved, and he was happy. Only one thing was missing.
“Afterwards, we’re going to take a bath.”
Her bright smile was approving of his newfound decisiveness, though her lilting hum turned it into a question.
“I’ve been wanting to do it for days. I might not even strip you out of that beautiful dress before I pull you in on top of me,” Finn warned.
“I love how you think, Finn Kinglsey,” she purred.
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The Agent known as Apollo will feature in the next novel of the Agents of Command series.