“My mom died from ovarian cancer when I was eight. I told you that part already, but what I didn’t know was she was actually diagnosed when she was pregnant with me. He basically said I killed her.”
His jeweled eyes flared wide.
“I’ll kill him,” he growled, clenching his jaw hard.
“You’ll have to take a number. Shayne has first dibs, right behind me.”
“What kind of a father––”
I stopped him there. “He’s not a father, Finn. Thinking back, he never was. All those times growing up when I thought he cared, he was only pretending for my mom’s sake. He was obsessed with her.”
Stroking his middle finger from my temple to my chin, he whispered, “He’s a narcissist, baby. The only thing he’s obsessed with is himself.”
“True.”
“Where did you leave things with him?”
Turning over, I wiggled backward until I was flush with Finn’s body. Back to chest. Ass to groin. Legs intertwined. He was my anchor, holding me high while the world around me plummeted into a free fall.
“He’s being investigated by the FBI.” He let out a low whistle. “Sooner rather than later, he’ll be arrested and facing a slew of charges.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t feel anything anymore. What happens to him is no longer my concern. He’s out of my life for good.”
Saying the words out loud was freeing.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. He chose this path a long time ago and he’ll have to answer for it.”
“What can I do?”
“Make me forget.”
We were skin on skin before I could blink. He loomed over me, hips cradled between my spread thighs, and his forearms framing my head between them. No words were spoken. None were needed. I saw everything he wanted to say in the way his eyes bored into mine. And I felt them when he slid deep inside me.
Love.
All-consuming love. The kind you couldn’t fake. The kind stories were written about and wars started over. What we shared left me raw and unsettled, yet I’d never been more alive. Finn gave me hope for a future I now dreamed of having.
“I more than love you, Waverly.”
I lost count of the number of orgasms I had as he drove my body past the point of no return. We circled our ownorbit, chasing ecstasy thrust after thrust until we were too exhausted to move. My mind was blissfully blank when I finally dozed off sprawled on top of him. He’d done what I’d asked a little too well.
I couldn’t even remember my own name.
Sooner came sooner than I thought. Three days after my disastrous run-in with my father, Finn and I were watching the morning news, eating breakfast in bed when an alert flashed along the bottom of the screen.
Late last night, U.S. Senator Jack Mitchell was taken into custody by agents with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Sources close to the Senator report the charges include bribery, voter fraud, and sexual misconduct. Stay tuned for further details.
We didn’t stay tuned. We tuned out for the remainder of the weekend.
By the time Monday rolled around, I assumed the worst would be over. Unfortunately, my parentage was never hidden from the press. Once I became an FBI agent, my role as the doting daughter was pretty much over. I’d been out of the public eye as his progeny for years, but the three media vans reportedly sitting out in front of my office building meant they hadn’t forgotten who I came from. Beyond risking incarceration, there wasn’t much I could do to stop them from stepping onto public property. That didn’t mean Finn and my team were going to stand by and do nothing.
Thanks to a heads-up from Duncan, we were aware of the network invasion before we left the house. I insisted on taking my own car, Finn puffed out his chest and refused to seereason. The clock was ticking and I refused to be late over something as inconsequential as transportation. Drive me, don’t drive me. What-the-fuck-ever. We just needed to get gone.
With our first major argument in the books––which I lost with dramatic flair after a six-minute stare down––I climbed into the back seat of Finn’s SUV. Surprisingly, he followed me, leaving Wes to be our chauffeur.
