He unapologetically kissed her.
Giving her the kind of kiss that wasn’t asking for forgiveness or permission, but it told her everything he hadn’t been able to say.
It was a kiss that didn’t hesitate as it found its way into her heart like he always had, without warning and without a doubt.Fierce, unshakable and impossible Finn.
And when she caught her breath, she knew.
It was him.
It had always been him.
Sliding her arms up his shoulders, she kissed him back like she’d been waiting a lifetime to kiss him.Like her body had tuned into his frequency from the very first moment he’d given her that sideways glance across the Batcave, the day she’d arrived.The one full of his bad attitude, while she was covered in dust, having walked the long way around the airport, with a buffalo breathing heavily behind her—who was still breathing heavily, now.
Only this time her hands fisted his shirt, as she softened into him like a surrender as she kissed him.
There was no question now.
No games.
No pretending this was casual anymore.
Because this was the kind of kiss you planned your whole future around, where you talked about generations of family.It changed everything, because nothing else mattered but them.Him and her.And the baby made three.
He finally pulled back, just enough to look at her.‘So, I’ll take that as a yes?’
A smile curled slowly across her lips, which still tasted of him.‘I should warn you… my parents aren’t normal.’
Finn gently pressed his forehead to hers and smiled.‘Good.Neither am I.’
Forty-three
Six months later
Finn’s boots echoed softly down the corridor, this time unshackled and with no guards flanking him.The air in this place was still cold.And it still smelled like bleach, rust, and bad decisions.But this time… he got to leave.
The prison guards nodded as he passed.Some even smiled.
They knew who he was now.They’d read the headlines:Ex-Con Leads Rural Raids on Cattle Crime.
He didn’t need their approval.But he could see that he’d earned their respect.
The interview room was the same.Still grey and grim, buzzing with bad fluorescent lighting in the place where the VIPs would go.
But the man sitting at the table?He wasn’t a VIP.Not anymore.
The ex-commissioner, Andrew Bannon, didn’t have a suit.No fancy tie.Just that prison orange that made you look ill.
Finn didn’t shake his hand.Didn’t sit either, he just looked at him.
Drew raised a brow.‘Still not much of a talker, eh?’
Finn shrugged.
‘You look well,’ Drew offered.
Finn glanced around the walls, then back at Drew.‘Better than the last time I was in one of these kinda places.’
From his back pocket, Finn dragged out a small booklet and dropped it onto the table with a soft thud.Word puzzles.‘Saw this and thought I’d drop one in, and give you an update.’
