16. Kate
Kate
We’d been at Finn’s house for a week and had started to settle in a little. We had gotten into a routine where he made breakfast and I made dinner. He’d even helped out with Noah a couple of times.
Careful not to wake Noah, I slipped out of bed and padded downstairs for water. Voices drifted from the kitchen, calm and deep. I slowed automatically before reaching the door.
“Should’ve listened the first time,” someone said.
“Probably thought we were bluffing,” Finn replied.
A quiet chuckle followed. “People always do.”
I stepped closer before I could stop myself, bare feet cold against the hardwood floor.
“So, what now?” Finn asked.
“Reaper wants it handled quiet.” Then the other man spoke again, casual as if he were talking about a stroll down the road. “Next time he goes near club property, I break his hand.”
I froze. Nobody sounded angry. Nobody raised their voice. They talked about violence the same way normal people talked about taking out the trash.
“Fair,” Finn said simply.
Something cold slid down my spine. Not because I thought they were bad men, but because I understood exactly what kind of men they were.
The floor creaked beneath my foot.
Finn’s head turned, his eyes landing on me in the hallway. The hard look on his face disappeared so fast, I almost thought I imagined it.
“Kate?” His voice softened immediately. “You okay?”
I nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Noah’s finally asleep. I just wanted water.”
Keno glanced at me once before standing from the table. “I’m heading out anyway.” He brushed past me with a nod and disappeared out the front door.
I stayed where I was, suddenly very aware that the only reason I felt safe upstairs was because men like them existed downstairs.
Finn locked the door after Keno left and turned back towards me. “You heard that.”
I nodded slowly. “You were talking about breaking someone’s hand.”
Finn leaned one hip against the counter, arms folding loosely across his chest.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
The casualness of it should’ve horrified me. Instead, all I could think about was how carefully those same hands held Noah. How gently they steadied me whenever panic threatened to take over.
“You make it sound normal,” I said.
“For us, it is.”
There was no shame in his voice. No pride either. Just truth.
I looked down at the glass in my hands, turning it slowly between my fingers. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“You’re not supposed to.”
Finn scrubbed a hand over his jaw before speaking again.
“We don’t go looking for reasons to hurt people, Kate. But if somebody threatens the club . . . the people we care about”—his shoulders lifted slightly—“we handle it.”
The club.
The people he cared about.
Noah.
Me.
Maybe Finn really did see us as more than a job Reaper handed him. The thought should’ve comforted me. Instead, it only made me feel dangerously close to hoping for something I had no right to want.
Finn pushed away from the counter and walked past me towards the stairs. His hand brushed lightly against my back as he passed, the clean scent of his aftershave and soap lingering around me for a second after he was gone.
“Just know, we would never hurt you or Noah. Go get some sleep before he starts wailing again,” he muttered.
I stood there listening to his footsteps disappear upstairs, trying to decide what unsettled me more. That men like Finn could be so dangerous, or how safe I felt whenever he was near.