Questions burn on the tip of my tongue. I turn to Finn on the stairs, stepping forward so my chest is pressing against his.
Finn’s eyes widen and his gaze dips to my lips.
“That night, you didn’t know who Ren was when he was spying on us from outside. What did he tell you to get you to trust him so quickly?”
“Why?” He grips my chin. “You want tips?”
My eyebrows cinch together.
“Ren is a bodyguard. Now that Dad’s running for governor, he thinks we need protection.”
He must think I’m an idiot.
But I’ll admit, Finn lies a hell of a lot better than I do.
I decide to play clueless and bat my eyelashes. “A bodyguard? Wow. Are things that serious with the governor race? Jarod Cross isn’t even in power yet.”
Finn’s intense gaze slides over my face. He brushes my cheek, right where Ace had gripped my jaw last night. “You have bruises.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.”
“How hard was he grabbing you?” The words are spoken at barely above a whisper.
I stop fishing for information and inch back as something dark and monstrous passes over Finn’s face. He tightens his jaw, hiding it behind his bland expression.
But it’s too late.
I saw it.
Memories of Finn smashing Ace’s face in fill my head again. I remember the sound of flesh pounding into flesh. It was relentless and cruel. Ace had already gone still, but Finn didn’t stop…
Right now, he looks composed, but there’s something beastly deep inside him.
And it’s coming out more and more.
I swallow nervously. “It looks worse than it is. Even when the nurses take my blood sometimes, my arm looks like a drug addict’s. It’s just bad genes.”
Finn’s expression hardens. It’s like watching someone rolling down the shutters and battening up for a hurricane. With a firm nod, he gestures to the stairs. “Let’s go.”
I appreciate that he doesn’t scoop me into his arms anymore.
Finn matches my slow pace until I get to the end of the stairs.
My jaw drops when I enter the lavish living room. A giant chandelier with grand, sparkling crystals hangs in the foyer. The living room boasts a large sofa, a coffee table, and a giant television. There’s enough room for a car to drive through. I’m pretty sure my steps are echoing.
The only thing keeping this HGTV millionaire home from feeling like an exhibit are the pictures on the mantle. From this angle, I can’t see the details, but there are several photographs of Dutch and Cadence in their wedding clothes. Grey and Zane also have a wedding photo. There are plenty of family photos with the brothers and Sol.
The photos with just the boys look especially striking, like four models casually staring into the camera for a photoshoot.
I tear my eyes away from the mantle and observe The Kings in real life.
They’re even hotter in person.
Lounging in the chair like a king on his throne is Dutch, amber eyes picking me apart like an eagle seconds before swooping in for his prey.
Sol is watching me with a ghost of a smirk on his lips, flicking his lighter in a cadence ofclicks. His smooth features and thickbrown hair are enhanced by the gleam of insanity in his light brown eyes.
While Dutch and Zane became a revolving door of scandals, Sol’s descent into madness was more gradual. But now, it’s all over him—that thirst for chaos. He’s looking at me like I’m something he wouldn’t mind setting on fire.
