Blink (The Breathe Series Book 2) Read online

  I threaded my fingers absently through his hair. He needed a haircut, but I appreciated this laidback Finn. The one that was quick to listen to what I had to say. The one that seemed to be able to rein in his frustration and anger despite the situation. But I still needed him to stay open with me.

  Finn shifted and I made a noise of disapproval, opening my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” He smiled. “I’m heavy.”

  My limbs felt boneless, or I would have pulled him on top of me again. I missed the weight of him, the realness and strength of him. “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere. But we should shower for dinner soon.”

  I rolled to my side, curling against his chest. His arm was warm when it wrapped around my waist. “Let’s stay in. Order something. Then we’ll have time to talk.”

  His face clouded and his hand slid away. “Don’t you want to go out? We can eat outside with the view—”

  “Finn.”

  He stood, glancing around like he was searching for something.

  “Seriously?” I asked, sliding off the other side of the bed. I snatched my robe from the ground and slid my arms into it. “Are you going to ignore me now?”

  His gaze snapped to mine, his expression puzzled. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then let’s talk about this. Let’s talk. I need…something concrete. A plan. To know there’s more than waiting around to see what John or Mark does next.”

  Finn winced when I said those names, shaking his head slightly. Hurt by his lack of response, I bit my lip to keep from saying anything I might regret.

  After a moment, I’d calmed enough to tell him, “I’m going to take a shower. And then I need to get back home.”

  He shifted in the same direction as if to stop me.

  “Don’t you dare,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “Do you know how hard it was for me to go to Curtis and tell him what happened with Mark? Or to tell you, knowing how you might react? Knowing it might mean putting you in danger? I—” My hands shook when I shoved them in my hair. “I can’t.”

  Sweeping around him, I walked into the bathroom and flipped the knob in the shower. Steam billowed out as I sat on the toilet seat, trying to calm down. Maybe I’d made a mistake saying anything. At least to Finn. How was he supposed to understand where I was coming from?

  My hands still shook as I took off my robe and adjusted the temperature of the water.

  No, that wasn’t reasonable. Finn deserved to know what had gone on. He was just upset. But we weren’t on the same page and we might never be.

  I stepped inside the large shower, letting the strong spray of water coat my hair. I closed my eyes and breathed in the steam. It sank into my lungs, relaxing me like I needed. Making me see the situation more clearly.

  “Charlotte,” Finn said at the door to the shower.

  I gritted my teeth, unwilling to turn around. “Finn, I can’t right now.”

  “Please.”

  I didn’t answer, only kept my eyes closed under the water. I heard him step inside the shower behind me and tried to keep it together when his chest touched my back and his arms wrapped around my waist.

  “You’re right,” he whispered, lips against my ear. “I want to protect you. I want to keep you as far from this as possible.”

  “Finn, you can’t—”

  “I know. It kills me but I can’t.” His voice was tortured as he continued. “Every time something else happens to you, I want to take you away somewhere safe. And every time I have to call Curtis and hear about what that fucker is doing to you, it’s another knife to my chest. Charlotte.” His face turned into my hair as he said my name over and over.

  Swallowing down my own heartache, I faced him. “Finn, don’t. Please. I’d leave if that would help.”

  “You can’t.” He wouldn’t look at me, only held me tight like I might bolt right now. “You can’t.”

  “Okay. It’s okay.” Rivulets of water ran down my cheeks, mingling with tears.

  “Stay.” His voice was hoarse, and it ripped my heart out.

  “I can’t do that to either of us again. But—”

  “No buts.” Abruptly he framed my face between his hands, kissing me hard. “Leaving isn’t the answer. Breaking up isn’t the answer.”

  “But I do need answers. You can’t keep things from me.”

  “Same goes.”

  “Finn,” I said, my voice taking on a note of warning. “I told you all this, even when I didn’t want to. I—”

  “You did.” His hands dropped down to my shoulders, then to my arms and slid to rest on my hips. “You did, and I appreciate it.”

  “Then let’s make a deal.”

  His eyebrows lifted but the rest of his face remained wary. “A deal. What does this deal entail?”

  “No more running away. No more breaking up. I want to face this head on.”

  To my surprise, he leaned in, hand wrapping in my hair as his lips touched mine. At first, a gentle brush, and then more deeply, his tongue sliding in to tangle with mine.

  “That,” he said, “sounds like a great idea.”

  I laughed. “That was only half of the deal.”

  “The way you look right now. Smiling. Happy. I’d probably agree to anything.”

  “You need to keep me in the loop. That’s the other half of the deal.”

  He considered this, his lips still so close to mine. “That’s a hard concession for me to make.”

  “I’m starting to get that.”

  He breathed in and out for a moment as water washed over both of us and my hands found their way to his shoulders. Then he said, “All right. If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s what I need.”

  He kissed me again. “Okay. Now, turn around. I’ll wash your hair.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll talk. I promise. But let’s get washed up and figure out dinner first.”

  I still wore my new dress even though we weren’t going far for dinner. I padded barefoot out to the patio where our meal was served on a table topped with wine glasses and candles. Finn took my hand, kissing the top of it before leading me to the table and holding out my chair for me.

  To my right, the ocean crashed against the shore, backlit by the setting sun. Rays of orange, red, and purple stretched out like fingers grasping at the blue in the sky like it was trying to bring the day back.

  Once the servers had left, Finn scooted his chair closer to mine. His voice sank low next to my ear. “You’re too far away.”

  Still struck by the view, I felt instead of saw his fingers brush the back of my chair and rest on my shoulder.

  “It almost makes me want to stay here. Not go back tomorrow,” I murmured.

  “We could do that if that’s what you want.”

  I faced him, studying his features. “What about work?”

  He shrugged. “It’ll still be there when we get back.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you.” When he didn’t meet my eyes, I said, “Because you’re worried about what else is going to be there when we get back, aren’t you?”

  He rubbed his hand on his jaw and gestured to my plate. “Will you at least eat while we talk? I know once we get going, you’re not going to want to.”

  I picked up my fork. “You were talking to Curtis?”

  He nodded, sipping his wine. “They still haven’t found John.”

  “Did they go to his apartment? He was in one of the Housing towers in Oasis, right?”

  Finn shook his head. His gaze dipped to my food and then returned to my face. He lifted his eyebrows, forcing a smile out of me.

  I ate a bite of steak. “Where is he living then?” I prompted.

  “He has a place in Oasis but it’s furnished minimally with very little personal belongings.”

  “Why?”

  Finn watched waves swell and crash in the distance. “He must have been using it as some sort of…front?”

  A laugh bubbled out at his ph
rasing. It didn’t sound real, like we were caught up in a bad movie that didn’t make any sense. “A front? What do you mean? He wasn’t there?”

  “No. He has another place outside of Oasis—an apartment he’s been renting for the last six months.”

  Impatient, I set my fork down and touched Finn’s hand under the table. “Just tell me. I know you’re trying to skirt around this. Just…” I sighed. “Tell me.”

  Finn’s jaw clenched. His fingers tightened on mine when he met my eyes. “You were right about John working with Mark. It seems like he might have been watching you for a while.”

  My stomach clenched. I pushed my seat back automatically, ready to stand. I needed to move, not sit here and wait for the news to come. But Finn held my hand tight in his.

  “He had pictures of you on his computer at work,” he said. “A lot of pictures from further back than when you started at Oasis. We’re thinking we’ll find more at his house—although there were a few things at his Oasis apartment.”

  I reached a shaky hand to my glass of wine and downed half of it in one long gulp. Finn only watched me and waited. Once I straightened my thoughts, I said, “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “So Mark’s been having him follow me,” I said. “We knew that, didn’t we? Now…what? He can’t come back to Oasis, right? I mean, he knows we know—”

  “Right. Charlotte, he can’t come back. I promise. Someone is watching his house and the locks are changed in his apartment at Oasis, but—”

  “But what? So he knows we’re onto him. He’ll just…stop coming around. Maybe lay low a while, right? And then…” I pulled my hand from Finn’s and stood, pacing from the table. “Who cares? As long as he’s not helping Mark, who cares what he’s doing? He probably hopped on a plane.” I gave Finn a strained smile. “He’s probably in Mexico right now. Drinking piña coladas and wishing he’d never helped Mark in the first place.”

  I swallowed hard, not believing my own story. When Finn didn’t say anything, I looked over. “He’s not in Mexico, is he?”

  Finn stood, grabbing his glass and mine before joining me at the balcony rail. I accepted the wine and took another sip.

  “We don’t know where he is,” Finn said.

  “But if he gets in touch with Mark we’ll know, right?” I asked.

  Finn nodded. “From what Curtis said, Mark hasn’t heard from him as far as they know.”

  “So that’s good, right?”

  Finn didn’t give any indication of his thoughts but I could read his eyes. There was trouble there.

  I drank the rest of my wine and walked to the table to pour more into my glass. When I faced Finn again, I smiled. “All right. The rest of it. Just say it.”

  Finn lowered his chin, rubbing it absently. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Damn right it isn’t. This is supposed to be my chance to start over and he’s fucking it up. So, tell me straight and we’ll deal with it.”

  Finn’s lips curved. He walked to me and rested his palm on my cheek. I tilted my face into the strength and warmth of it. “I’m pretty sure I’m never going to forget this moment. You, standing there in your dress, looking like the sunset—angry and strong and beautiful.”

  “If you’re trying to make me love you more,” I whispered, “you just did.”

  He had. His words. The tender look on his face. I set my glass aside and wrapped my arms around Finn’s waist. His hand slid into my hair and turned my face to his, kissing me slowly. Lingeringly, like it was the last we’d see each other for a long time.

  His lips brushed my ear when he said, “I’m sorry.”

  I leaned back. “Why?”

  “It wasn’t just pictures. Curtis found more. Clearly John left in a hurry when he suspected you knew about him. He didn’t have a chance to get everything from security in the Commons or the apartment in Oasis.”

  His hand tightened on my back, keeping me close as the information sank in.

  “He had…” Finn swallowed. “He had other things of yours. Personal things.”

  Shock coursed through my body. “What things?”

  Finn shook his head. “It’s not important.”

  “Tell me.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Charlotte—”

  “Finn,” I returned. “The whole truth.”

  He glanced away. “Your mask from the gala. Other—items of clothing.” When I angled my head in question, he bit out, “Underwear. Bras.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Finn pressed a soothing kiss to my temple. “Don’t even think about it.”

  But how could I set it aside? My mind flashed to my bedroom, my dresser, where I kept my clothes. Intimate items in the top drawer. Other things around my home that were important to me. Books, pictures, a few small mementos.

  “Why would he take these things? He was just supposed to be helping Mark, right?” I asked.

  “With the way you described him being last night and all the pictures and everything…” Finn gritted his teeth again. “It seems like he’s grown pretty attached to you. He was helping Mark at first, but then…”

  What? He’d gotten obsessed? I shook my head. “He’s probably just—just—”

  I couldn’t think of a word. A reason. It didn’t make sense.

  Another thought struck me and made me step from the balcony. I returned my glass to the table, stomach twisting with renewed worry.

  “Charlotte?”

  What if John wasn’t working with Mark at all? Could that be possible? I mean, Mark had called me but…

  “Charlotte,” Finn said again, stepping in my direction.

  I shook my head. “I’m confused.”

  “What is it?”

  “I was pretty sure John was working with Mark but…”

  “He is,” Finn assured me. “Or was until just recently.”

  “The tie,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  I nodded. “That’s right. He sent the tie—”

  “What tie?” Finn’s face hardened. “You didn’t tell me about a tie.”

  Blood drained from my face. No, I hadn’t. Because I’d gotten the “gift” from Mark and then broken up with Finn just after. And when I’d talked with Curtis today, I hadn’t mentioned it—only that he called and had been calling me.

  But John was probably the one who left the tie for Mark.

  I glanced at Finn cautiously. “It was…”

  “Don’t you dare say nothing,” Finn warned.

  My lips parted. That was exactly what I was going to say. Nothing. Because it didn’t matter now. Finn didn’t need to know. But then I remembered my words from earlier. The whole truth.

  “It was that box you saw me with last week. Before we broke up. It—there was a tie inside. A red tie.” When he didn’t say anything, I continued, closing my eyes against the image. “It was the same one—or like the one—he used to…” With a sigh, I pointed to my neck. “The one he used to wrap around—”

  The wine glass in Finn’s hand shattered. He didn’t even blink but the look on his face was murderous.

  “Finn,” I gasped, only able to stare for a moment as red liquid dripped from his hand. Then I walked to him, careful to avoid the glass on the ground. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “I’ll kill him,” Finn whispered, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “If he comes near you, I swear, I’ll kill him.”

  “Finn—”

  “If he sends you anything else like that, you tell me.”

  “I will,” I said, reaching for the stem of the wine glass. “Here—”

  “I’m serious, Charlotte.”

  “I know you are. Let’s clean this up.”

  “Don’t fucking placate me.”

  I lifted my eyebrows calmly. “Don’t yell at me.”

  “I’m not yelling. Damn it,” Finn said, grabbing a cloth napkin from the table and wrapping it around the stem of the glass. “Just…” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly.
“Stay there for a minute.”

  I did as he said, but only to calm my racing heart. I understood where Finn was coming from. Unfortunately, reactions like that weren’t going to get us anywhere. As the waves swelled against the shore, I breathed in deep. It would be okay. Finn needed to process and if this was how he needed to do it, I could get on board with that.

  It was better than how Mark used to process.

  I heard Finn’s footsteps as they approached but took another moment to collect myself. When I turned and saw his expression, my anger vanished. “Did you hurt yourself?” I asked, taking his hand.

  He smiled, turning his palm over. There was a small bandage around one finger. I lifted it to my lips and kissed it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad at you.”

  “I know.” I kept his hand in mine and glanced out to the beach. “Let’s walk. I should…” I blew out a breath and met his eyes. “I should probably tell you the whole story.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  We walked barefoot in the cool sand, Finn’s injured hand still in mine.

  “I ruined our dinner,” Finn said.

  I shook my head. “Mark ruined it.”

  He didn’t answer, just squeezed my fingers.

  “You don’t like talking about him,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not that. No, I don’t like talking about him but it’s more than that. I don’t like hearing his name when you say it. It sounds painful, like you can barely get it out, and I know it hurts you.” Finn stopped, turning to face me as a breeze blew my hair around my shoulders. He brushed a strand from my neck. “I also don’t like not knowing. You keep it all in. I imagine the worst. And I think…talking about it might help you.”

  I pressed a hand to my chest, anxiety already making my breath constrict. Finn clasped my hand in his, curling my fingers into his palm.

  “You don’t have to,” he murmured.

  I swallowed, my eyes dipping to his collarbone, afraid to meet his gaze head on. “Yes, I do.”

  He waited. My throat dried. Finally, I said, “Can we walk and talk?”

  I couldn’t stand there while he looked at me, saw my face as I remembered what Mark had put me through. It made me feel weak and reliving it made me feel vulnerable.