Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What will you do?” she breathed out, her voice shaky.
I crushed her to me, kissing her until she was trembling. Breathless. Unable to stop the desire that filled her eyes.
“I will take what is mine, and this time, I won’t let go.”
Then I left.
CHAPTER SEVEN
UNA
I gave up trying to sleep. I had tossed and turned most of the night, Finn’s words, his actions, repeating themselves over and over in my head.
I’m a selfish man.
I want your love, your laughter, your body.
Us.
Forever.
This time, I won’t let go.
I made a coffee, curling up in my chair, once again letting the past wash over me.
After that first night, Finn and I’d become inseparable, and before I knew it, two months had flown by. Calls, texts, dates, flowers. Dinners that ended up with us in bed. Dates that ended up with no dinner. Weekends spent never leaving his condo. He was insatiable. An incredible lover. Patient, thorough. I could ask him anything, and he would teach me. Show me how to touch him. What to do. How to find my own pleasure. I had never known passion the way it was with him.
Brian was ambivalent that we were together, yet seemed angry over the fact that it gained him no favor in Finn’s eyes. He liked to make small digs, hinting that Finn was simply using me and would eventually grow tired and move on.
I ignored him.
We spent more of our time at Finn’s condo than the new place I had moved in to, and Finn kept slyly suggesting I give it to Brian and move in with him.
Life couldn’t have been better.
Until reality stepped in.
The night began like any other night. Finn took me to one of our favorite places—a small café with great food, good music, and a fabulous wine list. He wanted to celebrate our two-month anniversary, and there were flowers on the table and my favorite bottle of wine.
He listened to me go on about my day, excited about what was happening at the job. The one he’d helped me get. Over dessert, he laughed when I told him I’d tried to get into the wrong apartment the night before.
“I’m there so little, I tried to get into 319 instead of 419,” I informed him. “You have me so crazy I can’t even remember where I live!”
He leaned over and kissed me. “You should be living with me.”
I shook my head. “Too soon, Finn O’Reilly.”
He kissed me again, his eyes dancing. “I’ve waited years, mo chroí. I think my patience needs to be rewarded.”
“Then take me home.”
He stood, holding out his hand. We were headed toward the door when it happened. I heard the sound of gunshots and shattering glass. People began screaming. Finn cursed, drawing a gun I had no idea he was carrying, shoving me behind him and yelling at me to get down. His men outside were returning fire, and as fast as it began, it stopped, the echoes of the shots lingering in the eerie silence that fell. I staggered to my feet in shock, staring at Finn. Then in horror at the blood that was soaking through his shirt.
“Una,” he gasped. “Are you hurt?” He stepped toward me, and I grabbed at his arm.
“Finn, you need to sit!”
“Why?”
“You’ve been shot!”
He glanced down, looking surprised. He looked up, frowning. “That explains the pain.”
Then he collapsed.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. His men had bundled him and me into a car, not waiting for an ambulance. We were met at the entrance to the ER, and Finn was whisked away. I stood in shock outside the doors they took him through, unsure what to do. Moments later, Niall arrived, taking charge. He wrapped me in his overcoat and sat me down, leaving one of the men with me. He spoke to the doctors then kneeled in front of me.
“They’re taking him to surgery, Una.”
“He’ll be okay?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
His face was grave. “They’re doing the best they can.”
“He’ll be okay,” I repeated, more firmly.
He nodded. “It’s Finn.”
“It’s Finn,” I echoed.
I paced for what felt like hours. I heard snippets of the conversation—enough to know what had happened.
“Who was it?” Niall demanded of the men. “Who did you see?”
“I didn’t know him,” Rory, his driver, spoke up. “But I recognized the tattoo on his arm. It was from Diego’s gang he chased out of town.”
“Dammit,” Niall responded. “I knew they’d return.”
Rory’s eyes skittered to me. “I don’t think it was him they wanted to take out. I think they were aiming elsewhere to send a message.”
I swallowed at the lump in my throat.
Someone with a grudge against Finn decided to take away the one thing that seemed to mean a lot to him.
Me.
The gunfire was to kill me.
Instead, he took the bullet.
Just like my dad did for him.