Chapter 16
Gianna
The man's screams are too loud, too loud. There's blood everywhere, on the floor, on my palms, and Declan's smirk as he watched me torture the man makes my insides churn, my throat and tongue feeling like bile.
The screams grow even louder, and I raise my hands to cover my ears, but nothing changes. The wailing is intense, and just when I think it won't stop, I jolt awake, shooting up from the bed in panic.
My breathing is ragged as I try to steady myself. I feel a hand wrap around me.
"It's okay... It's okay, Gianna," Finn's voice cuts through my panic.
His voice is soothing, slowly sealing away the panic I feel.
"It was just a dream." It was just a dream.
Slowly, I begin to relax into his touch as he gently strokes my hair.
The effect of the dream vanishes slowly, but the memories of what I did play in my head on and on.
I can't believe I went through with it. I did that to that innocent man. I close my eyes trying to push away the memory, but it's evident a memory like that will stick with me for a long time.
Finn slowly pulls away, but I can't bring myself to look at him. My eyes drop to my palms, and they're clean. I remember them being stained with blood before I... before I passed out.
"I cleaned them up," Finn says, bringing his hand over mine.
I look up at him, and his eyes do all the talking.
He looks so worried, like he's afraid I'll break apart.
"Thank you," I say, looking away from him to realize I'm not in my room.
Everything is different; the bed, its location, the closet, the mini office resting at the corner of the room. Even the color is different.
My room has a color mix of beige, cream, and lavender. This room is a mix of earthy green, brown, and white. "You're in my room," Finn says, and my attention snaps back to him. "I was really worried after you passed out. I brought you here, and a doctor attended to you."
"A doctor?" My stomach tightens before I can stop it. A doctor means hands, means questions, means things I can't afford to have anyone find.
Finn must read something on my face, because his thumb strokes the back of my hand. "I didn't let him do much. He checked your pulse, your head where you hit the floor. Gave you fluids. That was all."
"That was all?"
"That was all." His jaw sets, just slightly. "I wasn't going to have strange hands on you while you couldn't tell him to stop. If something was seriously wrong, he would have told me, and I would have decided then."
The words hit somewhere I'm not prepared for. A doctor could have been my worst nightmare right now. Finn, without knowing it, has protected me from something I can't explain to him.
I swallow, my mind still replaying everything that happened. "How long have I been here?" I ask.
"A few hours. The doctor said you just needed rest. A lot of it." Finn holds my shoulder, pulling me back to the bed. I don't even resist. I'm already too exhausted. My head hits the pillow, and I just want to disappear.
Finn raises the blanket and lies beside me. We lie facing each other, and he pulls the blanket to cover me properly before slowly patting my arm like a mother tucking their child to sleep. His touch is grounding even though the blanket is between us.
I bite my lip, trying to steer away from the man's screams. "It's okay to not be okay, Gianna," Finn says, and all my defenses shatter. I say nothing, there are no words to describe how I feel. He leans forward and kisses my forehead.
"It's okay," he says, leaning back just a bit.
"I'm here. I'm always here," he says, his tone laced with truth and nothing but the truth.
The room is quiet, too quiet. Our shoulders barely touch, yet it feels like my skin is on fire.
Finn's eyes are intense, too intense. The kind that pin you in place and make it hard to think clearly.
We stare at each other in silence, the kind that feels loaded, like every second stretches into something dangerous and electric.
My eyes drift downward before I can stop them.
He isn't wearing a shirt. How come I'm just realizing?
The blanket covers his lower half, but I can still see the firm lines of his torso, the way his chest rises and falls slowly.
The veins in his arms are prominent, and his taut muscles rest just inches from mine.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" I ask before I can think better of it, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
He doesn't look away. "I had to take it off," he says in a low, calm voice. "There was blood on it." Oh right. The events of earlier flood back in a blur again, the shouting, the blood, the stench of burning skin, but somehow all of it feels far away now.
With Finn lying next to me, the danger feels paused. The tension, though... that's very much alive. I swallow hard, dragging my gaze back up to his face. His eyes are still on me, but now they've dipped lower, down to my lips.
I feel heat bloom in my chest, crawling up to my neck, then cheeks.
He's not even touching me, but it feels like he is.
His look alone is the touch. Then, Finn reaches for me.
Slowly, like he's testing the water before diving in.
His finger brushes a lock of my hair from my face, his touch light as a feather. I don't move. I barely breathe.
He doesn't stop there. His knuckles trail across my cheek, down to my jaw, then to my neck. My breath hitches when he pauses there, his fingers resting at the hollow of my throat. He can probably feel how fast my heart is racing. Still, I don't move. I can't.
His hand dips lower to the curve of my shoulder, where my shirt has slipped just enough for skin to show. He traces along the edges, then moves back up slowly, until his fingers stop at my mouth. He doesn't say anything.
He just stares, his thumb brushing the corner of my bottom lip like it's something sacred. I part my lips slightly, and his breath hitches just a little, barely noticeable, but I hear it.
We're suspended in something fragile and thick, like glass on the edge of shattering. The heat between us has nowhere to go. It curls inside my stomach and spreads down my limbs, until even my fingers feel restless.
I want him to kiss me, but he doesn't. Instead, he keeps tracing, his finger now sliding under my chin to tilt my head just slightly towards him. His face inches closer, but he stops. A curse nearly escapes me when he pulls away slightly.
"About Declan?" he starts and sighs. "I think he's going to stop bothering you now," Finn says it more like a prayer than something certain. I swallow, truly hoping he trusts me. I can't go through all of that, putting that man through that cruel torture, for him not to trust me.
"Yeah," I whisper. "I hope he does." The look on Finn's face changes, his brows draw together, and I wonder what's going on in his head.
"What is it?" I ask, searching his eyes. "Do you want to say something?" Finn looks conflicted as he gazes into my eyes.
He smacks his lips. "You know I trust you right?" he begins, and my heart drops to my stomach.
"Yes," I answer, waiting desperately to know where this conversation is headed.
"It's just nothing like this has ever happened. The location of our shipment. When it happens and how it happens is only known within the family."
He's suspecting me. "You think I did it?" I ask, even though I'm scared of his answer.
He releases a deep sigh. "Yes... I mean no," he stutters. "I just need to hear you say the words. Did you do it?" he asks, searching my eyes for the truth. The truth that will settle whatever doubt he has of me.
I pull my lips into a thin line. "I didn't do it," I say with a clear voice. "I know it's logical to think I did it, but I didn't. I've cut every communication with my family. I made the choice to be here even if I know it's going to be hard, but I can't have you doubting me as well."
I lie effortlessly, and it makes me feel sick that I can lie to Finn, but I can't tell him the truth. "I didn't do it."
Finn's lips pull into a soft smile. "I know.
I'm sorry you had to go through that," he says, gently caressing my cheek with the back of his palm.
I don't know who moves first. Maybe it's both of us.
But suddenly, our foreheads are touching, and the air between us is charged.
I could close the space. He could, but neither of us does. Not yet.
I shift closer, close enough that his breath mixes with mine. His hand rests on my waist now, grounding me in this quiet storm. His eyes flicker from mine to my mouth again.
"Gianna," he breathes, like my name is a prayer.
My pulse thrums, my skin burns. He leans in, and every second stretches thin like the universe is holding its breath for us, and then he kisses me.
Softly at first, his lips brushing mine with the gentleness of a whisper.
My breath catches, and I close the last inch of space between us, pressing my lips fully to his.
The kiss deepens. His hand cups my face, and I melt into him. There's a slow ache in the way he moves, hungry but not in a rush. I let out a soft sigh against his lips, and he pulls me closer.
This is wrong, so wrong, but why does it feel so right? The blanket shifts between us as his arms wrap firmly around my waist. His other hand tangles gently in my hair. Our noses brush as we move in sync, mouths parting and meeting again like we've done this a thousand times.
Everything else disappears, the tension, the fear, the guilt.
All I can focus on is the heat of him, the way his lips taste like wine and danger, and the way his heart beats in sync with mine.
When we finally break apart, it's not because we want to, it's because we need air.
I gasp softly, eyes fluttering open to find him already looking at me.
His pupils are dilated, lips slightly swollen from our kiss, and his breath is ragged.
I lean into him, his warmth, wrapping my arm around him. His scent is everything I need. Everything I want. "You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers with a rough, thick voice.
I smile against his chest, letting the outside world and expectations slip away. We remain like that for some minutes with my eyes closed and my fingers tracing the thick muscles of his back, engraving every part of him into my memory.
Finn pulls away slightly, just enough to meet my eyes. "I wish I could stay here with you till the sun disappears from the sky," he says, tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear. "But I have some important business I need to attend to."
Even though I don't want him to leave, I know work is important. "Okay," I whisper.