“Who?” I groan.
“Oi, now is not the time to fuck with me, Finn. What did you do?”
“You didn’t want her either.”
He grabs me by the collar of my shirt, and I wince from the movement as he gets into my face.
“Fiona is turning over in her grave over the sight of you.”
“Don’t I know it,” I groan, and Declan stares at me for a long moment, letting my shirt go. “Sometimes I look at you, and I see her,” I say, and he sighs, running a hand through his ruddy hair.
“Fiona would have liked her,” he says fondly about his cousin.
She was his family; I loved her, but I didn’t crave her the way I do Elena, and that’s the most terrifying part. I’ve spent years hating myself for what happened to Fiona, but I never felt the visceral need for her like I do the Omega I just set free. It’s why she had to go, that feeling is too dangerous.
If Elena was truly mine? I can’t imagine the madman I’d become in order to protect her; it’s already been too much.
It was for the best. I can go back to being who I’ve always been, and Elena can go live out her dream life far away from me.
“She’d be so pissed to see who you’ve become,” Declan states, bringing Fiona up again.
“So am I.”
“Where is she, Finn?” he asks.
I’m not sure if it’s this newly found guilty conscience or him saying Fiona’s name out loud, but I can’t lie. It was stupid to let Elena go. She knows too much, and all she has is a fucking t-shirt and a couple grand to get her by.
Plus, deep down, I really didn’t want her to go at all, that’s the most fucked up part of it all. But she still took my keys andran, maybe I should cover for her; she clearly wanted to get away from us as well.
“I gave her my car, told her to go.”
“And she did?” he asks, and I nod. “She couldn’t have gotten far. I’ll send guys out now and wake up Lorc and Cillian. They aren’t going to forgive you for this.”
“But you do?”
“Just this once, Finn. But I’m done, we’re all done with your shit. Get it together, or fucking leave. Be miserable in fucking peace instead of making everyone else as desolate as you.”
I groan, my face hurting just as much as my soul does.
My phone vibrates next to me on the couch with an unknown number.
“What?” I bark into the phone.
“Mr. O’Brien, it’s Deputy McGuffey with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department.”
My heart sinks. It’s then, without a single doubt, that I know I absolutely fucked up. There was no escaping my scent match, and I very well may have put her in harm's way for being a pathetic, spineless asshole.
Maybe Declan was right, maybe it’s me that I need to completely remove from the equation.
“It’s late, Deputy.”
“Indeed, it is. I’m at St. Thérèse, and there’s a woman claiming to be your Omega here. Barely dressed, with a vehicle registered to you.”
Declan can hear the conversation, and his look of relief is palpable as I respond to the officer.
“We had a bit of an argument. She’s going into heat soon. You know how temperamental they can be. We’ll be there shortly to pick her up.”
“Of course, sir,” he replies. “We will wait for you here.”
