He wasn’t just angry.He was furious at himself for thinking that she could be different.That maybe she understood him.And that maybe she gave a damn.
Light spilled from the spare room.He stepped in—
And stopped cold.
The air shifted and all that heated rage cracked.All at the sight of…Taryn.Asleep.
Curled up in front of the wall art she’d built with red string stretched from corner to corner, pinning photos, paperwork, and notes.She’d colour-coded connections, flagged key stations, brands, names, and dates.His Gaps File, which had once been a chaotic mess, was now mapped into an organised war plan, listing out facts and timelines.
And she’d done all that while he was gone.
But it wasn’t the files that stopped him cold.
It was the photo.
Pinned to the wall apart from the web of notes and names, hung a photo he’d never seen before.
It was of a young woman, with curly brown hair, smiling like the world was a safe place.The caption beneath it was written by Taryn:Meghan Forrester.
For the first time, Finn put a face to the name of the young woman he’d only ever known as Izzy’s assistant.The one who’d been brutally murdered, sending Izzy running for cover in Elsie Creek, long before Finn had even heard of Everlight Energy Solutions.
And just like that, everything shifted.
Taryn hadn’t come to take the Stock Squad down.She’d come for Meghan.
No one, not even Red’s crew or Taryn’s boss, knew that.They all thought they were using her to shut down the squad, and for Finn to drive her out of town—just like they’d planned.
But Taryn Hayes was the wildcard they hadn’t accounted for.
Hell, he hadn’t accounted for her either.
And suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.
She wasn’t the weapon.
She was the one fighting beside him.
Not because someone told her to, but because she gave a damn.Because it mattered.Her true motive for being here, and why she was putting in all this effort, was for her cousin.She was chasing justice for her family.For blood.
And for a man who’d lost his family—that meant more than anything.
He dropped to a crouch beside her, all that fire in his chest now gone.
He didn’t touch her, just looked at her.The ink smudge on her wrist.The crease between her brows, even as she slept, as if working behind those closed lids.The way she’d folded herself down like she didn’t belong here, but had done everything to stay anyway, no matter how hard he’d pushed her.
The stubborn thing.
He reached out, gently brushing her soft hair from her face, her beauty making his throat tighten.
Even though she may have come to shut him down in the beginning—but now?Hiding behind her job for her own reasons… Who was using who?
‘Who sent you?’
Did she even know the answer?
Carefully, he slid one arm beneath her knees, the other under her shoulders, and lifted her.
She stirred but didn’t wake, releasing a soft breath against his collarbone, as her head fell against his chest like it belonged there.
