“Bullshit!” Finn snapped. “He’s keepingme in the dark because he likes control. If he wants me involved in the running of the Furies, then he needs to be prepared to open up. I’m family, for Crissakes!” Finn threw back the rest of his beer, which was no doubt warm by now.
Mitch wanted the information as much as Finn, if not more, but decided not to push it. Particularly since Rocky stood by the doors that led into the house, deepin conversation with Pete. He’d corner Pete and get what intel he could from him. As if knowing Mitch was thinking about him, Pete lifted his eyes, and studied Mitch for a long minute before looking away. Rocky reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag before throwing an arm around Pete’s shoulders and leading him into the house. Fuck! Mitch wanted Pete sober, not flying. He turnedback to Finn, who was watching Rocky and Pete too.
“Maybe leave it for now and try again later,” Mitch said. “Rocky might be in a more receptive mood.”
Finn gave a humorless chuckle. “He’s the one getting stoned, and I’m the one who can’t be trusted.”
“Listen, how about getting something to eat. You haven’t had much all day and—”
Finn stood. “I’m not a goddamn kid. I don’t need looking after!I wish you’d all stop trying to be my protector.”
“—and the barbecue smells great,” Mitch finished, speaking to Finn’s back as he stormed off.
Urgh. Can this day get any worse?Reporting fuck all was not going to go down well at headquarters. He needed to get things moving.
Mitch rose and abandoned his empty water bottle, gave a regretful look at the door where Rocky and Pete had exited, andhightailed it down the side of the house where Finn had disappeared.
FINN STORMEDout of the house.How fucking dare he try to tell me what to do?
He was sick and tired of Rocky pushing him around, and fed up with Mitch treating him like a child. How bloody embarrassing to have the man he dreamed about, had hot sexual fantasies about, think he needed continual supervision and protection.For God’s sake, Finn was a grown man, and it frustrated him no end. What did he have to do to prove he was a capable adult?
Finn had calmed down somewhat by the time he stalked the length of the winding driveway. The wall of green hedge ended, providing a glimpse of the road beyond the wide-open gates. Thank goodness the automatic gates were open because he hadn’t had the presence of mind topress the button to open them before he fled the house.
He walked through the opening and stopped at the Range Rover, which was parked a short distance away, automatically dropping his hands into his pockets to seek out the keys.Fuck!He didn’t have the keys because he wasn’t even allowed to drive himself around. He had a driver. He had Mitch.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
A jolt of pain traveled fromfoot to hip after he kicked the tire.
“That’s not going to help, you know.”
Finn spun and glared at Mitch, who luckily wasn’t smiling—because if he had been, if there’d been even a hint of a smirk, Finn would have walked right up to him and wiped the smile from his handsome face.
He took a deep breath. “Not now, Mitch. I’m not in the mood, and I don’t want to hear it.”
“I don’t know what’sput such a bee in your bonnet or what that whole thing was about, but there’s no point stewing over it. You know Rocky. You know how he thinks, and you can’t let it get to you. Don’t give him that power over you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mitch folded his arms across his broad chest. God, the guy looked good in a tight T-shirt, the tattoos on his biceps standing out in sharprelief on the defined muscles. “You think I don’t know how people like Rocky operate?” He raised a brow and studied Finn, obviously waiting for a response. Mitch quirked his lip, just a small lift at one corner as the silence stretched.
“Jesus, Mitch. Don’t look at me like that.”
“That’s a lot of ‘don’t’ from you today. You don’t want to hear what I have to say, then I don’t know what I’m talkingabout, and now I can’t look at you however I’m supposedly doing it. I’m having trouble keeping up with what Iamallowed to do. I can’t even suggest we get something off the barbecue when I’m starving.”
Pop.
The sound was sudden and harsh and unmistakable. Maybe others would think the sharp sound was a car backfiring, but Finn immediately knew it was gunfire—loud and distinctive. A second afterthe gunshot, Finn was on his back on the ground. The relatively soft grass on the verge of the road cushioned his fall, but Mitch’s solid body holding his firmly in place knocked the wind out of him.
“Don’t move.” Mitch’s voice was a stern whisper, his breath hot against Finn’s ear. “Stay down.” The urgency was evident in his tone, and Finn stilled immediately.
His heart beat a rapid tattoo,his fingers tingling from the rush of adrenaline to his extremities.
A car accelerated, the engine roaring. Another shot.
Mitch panted against Finn’s throat, the sound harsh even to Finn’s ears, which were still ringing from the gunshot. Finn’s own breathing was labored, his mind in a mess, trying to work out what he needed to do—obey Mitch or get as far away from danger as he could? He struggledfor a moment, his body trying for flight in a natural response to the situation, but Mitch’s weight kept him pinned to the ground.
The car roared down the street, tires screeching as it took the corner too fast. The sound faded, and the resulting silence made it all seem like a strange dream—frightening commotion one minute, peaceful calm the next. Finn blinked against the sharp brightness ofthe sun, aware of the screech of a cockatoo flying overhead. Someone down the street was mowing their lawn, the sound of the machine a constant drone in the distance.
