Chapter 22
Finn
Cassidy falls asleep on me before the movie is even halfway over. She finishes her food at least, and I rescue the plate before her lax fingers can drop it, setting it on the end table with mine.
I’m still humming with fury, and I like to think I hid it from her alright, but I can’t get it to go away. Hugh put that flyer in the market knowing it would rattle her. It would rattle anyone to hear their neighbors talking about how they’re going to profit from them being kicked out of town.
The only thing keeping my calm right now is Cassidy under my wing.
I like knowing she’s safe here and under my protection.
It’s undoubtedly some lingering primal instinct, but it feels good nonetheless.
Her weight against my side, the soft, teasing tickle of her under my wing—it’s the only thing keeping me from jumping up and storming out of here.
I can’t leave her unprotected, so therefore I can’t go anywhere.
It settles something ugly and snarling in my brain.
She huffs a little in her sleep, leaning in closer, and I bend down to kiss the crown of her head.
The movie is still playing, the low hum of voices in the background, but I tune it out.
She can show me this one again sometime, because I am never going to remember what’s happening in the movie tonight.
I debate carrying her upstairs, but I want to get the first floor clean first, so I reluctantly move away from her, laying her down on the decorative pillow, stroking her hair out of her face.
With one last glance at her, I take the plates to the kitchen and wash up, making sure to wipe down the counters so we don’t have to do it in the morning.
I turn the water off and shake my hands out while I reach for the towel. “Finn?” Her voice is small and thin, and I freeze for a second before abandoning the towel on the countertop to go back out to her.
“I’m right here,” I soothe, bending down by the couch.
“Got cold,” she says, which is nonsensical considering that it’s still eighty degrees outside, even at this hour, and the house isn’t much cooler. “Could you—”
She doesn’t finish her thought, just extends an arm for me to slide under, and I don’t waste a minute, slinging that arm over my shoulder so I can scoop her up and carry her upstairs to bed. Anything left can wait until morning.
She stops me halfway up the stairs with a hand on my face, her eyes more alert and serious now. “It’s bad,” she whispers. “And I might get kicked out. But if it happens, I don’t want you to be mad at yourself.”
My heart aches a little bit. “You won’t get kicked out,” I promise, voice a little hoarse.
She rolls her eyes. “It could happen, Finn. Pretending it won’t doesn’t make me fear it any less.”
Fair enough. I turn my head so I can kiss her hand. “We’ll figure it out,” I promise. We will. Hugh doesn’t get to win this.
I’m starting to love this damn house too. Or, more accurately, I’m starting to love the woman in it. And gargoyles are known for protecting their homes. Cassidy might not want to hear my optimism, and that’s fine, but I already know that I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she keeps this house.
When Cassidy wakes up in the morning, still tucked under my wing, it would almost look like she doesn’t remember the night before except for a dark look behind her eyes. It’s vacant and cold, and I hate it.
We cook breakfast together, and after she changes for the day, I fly her to work.
She doesn’t react as we’re flying, but when I set her down, she leans up for a kiss like always.
I give her one of course, trying to convey everything I feel in this one gesture.
She’s okay. We’re okay. She’s strong and we’ll get through this, and Hugh will not win.
Then I march inside, check the bulletin board, and tear down the flyer Hugh replaced sometime yesterday evening, ripping it into little shreds before tossing it in the trash.
Cassidy as well as a handful of people are staring at me, but I’m not stopping to hear complaints. I just lean down, steal another kiss, then murmur, “Have a good day, wife,” before taking off again.