CHAPTER 63
Finn
I’m out.
Out of the depths of sleep. I’m up.
Up out of bed. Feet on the floor, drawer open, knife in hand.
Someone’s in the house.
Door open. In the hall. I force myself to take a moment to listen. If it’s an intruder, they need to believe I’m still asleep. Surprise is always best.
But an intruder fucking stupid enough to wander into a compound occupied by a family of Navy SEALs? That’s another question entirely. There may be time for questions at some point.
Or maybe not. Since whoever is in here may about to be unalived.
I slide with my back against the hallway wall toward Jasmine’s room. My brain has been trained for eight years to hear and respond to every possible sound she makes. I already know it’s not my daughter I hear. But I crack open the door, anyway.
Nothing, just the soft breath of my little girl. Healthy and safe. A nightlight throwing a soft glow on her peaceful face.
Then what…? I cock my head.
No creak. No footfall. And then I hear it.
A horrible cry. A moan.
It’s Emma.
With my knife perfectly balanced in my hand, ready for use, I throw open the door, every nerve in my body on alert and ready to do what needs to be done.
The room is dark. I see no movement except for the small form in her bed. She flails her arms and legs under the duvet, pitiful cries and moans punctuated by an occasional hiss.
“Get off me.”
I set the knife on the floor and sit on the edge of her bed. I stroke the side of her face, carefully, softly. She recoils from me in her sleep, probably incorporating me in her nightmare. “Emma, wake up. You’re having a nightmare. Emma, come on now. Please wake up.”
She lets go with a gut-wrenching sob. I continue trying to wake her, cautiously, not wanting to cause her any more distress. Finally she bolts upright, her eyes huge in the darkness.
She rears back and hits me across the face.
“It’s me. It’s Finn. You’re safe.”
She releases a shocked exhale. Stares into the darkness, her head on a pivot, using her feet to scrabble away from me. She blinks, finally recognizing me. She collapses in relief, then throws herself into my arms, clutching my shoulders.
“Finn. Oh no. No, no, no, no.” She breaks down in tears.
I hug her tight to me. “What is it? What’s going on?”
She shakes her head against my neck. “It’s nothing. Nothing. I’m fine. Just hold me for a minute.”
I press her close to me, hoping to provide some sense of safety for her. “You can tell me.”
“It’s silly. Just a bad dream. Thank you.” She pushes away from my embrace.
“Baby, tell me. Let me help you with this. I’m right here.”
“No.” She immediately tries to smooth over the harsh response with a smile. “Really.” She strokes my forearm. “I’m good now. Thank you for checking on me. You can go back to bed. We don’t want Jasmine to see you in here. Good night.” She kisses me on the cheek.
I tip my head and stare at her. She either thinks I’m a fool or it’s damn important that I don’t see she has demons. Demons so horrible that they made her scream in her sleep.
And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t think I’m a fool.
So Emma’s holding back from me. Hiding something huge enough to drive her to this kind of terror. The kind of terror I saw in her face that night at the fair.
“Let me protect you, Emma. I’m pretty good at it.”
She cups my face in her hands, and we lock eyes. “If only you could.”
“I can.”
“You can’t, Finn. Nobody can.”
The look on her face is pure anguish. I’d do anything to relieve her suffering, take it from her and put it on myself.
She wipes her eyes and smiles weakly. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re right. You deserve so much more than me.”
She frowns and shakes her head, but it’s true. I haven’t treated her the way she deserves. I’ve used her for my own pleasure. I’ve been bonking the housekeeper, for fuck’s sake.
She deserves so much more than I’ve given her.
I study her face in the darkness. Her eyes are swollen from crying. Her hair is a mess. I can’t resist the temptation—the temptation of Emma. I glide my thumb over her lips and she sighs. I feel her warm breath on my fingers.
And just like that, my body ignites with desire for her.
Even now, when she’s at her most vulnerable, all I can think of is taking her.
I’m a bastard.
“You should rest. Go back to sleep.”
I pull away, but she grabs my hand. “Don’t be angry with me. Can I have a kiss?”
It’s all the invitation I need. Our lips crash together and I’m clutching her tight to me; then I’m pressing her down on her back. She opens under my touch, her mouth seeking me out in desperation.
The kiss goes on and on, neither of us willing to stop. My palm cups her breast. and she shoves her small hand between our bodies, her fingers encircling my dick.
I’m so hard for her. Even now, when only seconds ago she was crying in her sleep. Maybe this isn’t really what she needs. Maybe she wants comfort and I’m giving her sex instead.
I’m taking advantage of the situation.
But then I feel her throw a leg over my back.
Suddenly, we both freeze.
“Jasmine,” we whisper in unison.
“We could go to the tack room,” she says.
“No. Hell no. Enough.”
Emma’s eyes widen. She looks as if she’s about to burst into tears.
“No, baby. Sorry. That’s not—” I grab her and kiss her. “Emma, this is stupid. No more hiding. No more secrets. Whad’ya say? Let’s do it. Tomorrow, we tell everyone.”