But I had to be strong.
Had to be.
Finn didn’t need a wimp for a wife. It was bad enough I’d hid in a fucking wardrobe again, but I’d had no choice, had I? It wasn’t like I had a gun in my bedside table. Crap, it wasn’t like I could even fire one.
Putting shooting lessons on the top of my to-do list when I got back on my feet, I let Finn carry me to the bed. Declan had already dragged the covers back, and Finn lay me amid the sheets and covered me.
I shot the brothers a look and saw they were staring back at me grimly. The only one who wasn’t here was Aidan, and considering he was still in the hospital, that made sense.
“How did you know someone was here?”
“Someone hacked the code box on the elevator. I got a notification on my phone.” Finn took a careful seat at my side as he leaned over to drag open the nightstand drawer.
The good stuff, like lube and condoms, had been shoved in the middle one, and pain meds had been stored at the top.
I really had not envisaged starting married life out with pain meds in the top drawer of my nightstand.
“He was Russian,” I told Finn, catching each man’s eye. Before they could ask how I knew—no, I wasn’t a mind reader, but the way they gaped at me was irritating—I continued, “H-He came in here and was looking for me. He spoke with someone on his phone. I didn’t understand any of it.”
Finn shoved an empty tumbler behind him, waiting for someone to get the hint. Declan did and clomped over to the bathroom. As Finn doled out meds like a pharmacist, I took them in my hand and popped them when Declan gave me the glass.
I thought I’d been in pain before, but it was nothing compared to the come down that let me feel all the myriad aches that encompassed my body. They were suddenly there, suddenly so acute I wanted to cry out, but I firmed my mouth and gritted my teeth to withhold the moans of discomfort that longed to break free. Fuck, when were the meds going to kick in?
“We need to take her to the compound.”
“No!” I barked, surprising myself with how strident my tone was after I’d just been inwardly whining over how weak my voice sounded. “I’m not leaving Finn.”
I grabbed his hand and he tightened his fingers around mine. He looked carefully into my eyes and murmured, “I’m going to do some things you won’t like, Aoife.”
“I don’t care,” I told him instantly.
His nostrils flared. “I care. I’m going to be the husband you deserve.”
Panic fluttered through me, but it was oddly muted. What did being the husband I deserved entail? So long as he didn’t leave me frickin’ alone again, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.
I squeezed down hard on his hand and said as much. “Finn, do not put me in lockdown unless you’re going to be there too.”
He dipped his chin. “I never intended to do anything less.”
From the surprised looks on his brothers’ faces—Conor looked particularly awestruck by Finn’s statement—I gathered that was unusual.
Typical men.
Shove a bunch of women together while they go off and play war.Bastards.
“You promise?” There was a quiver to my voice, but it wasn’t from weakness, it was from fatigue. It was from the rage I’d feel if he lied to me.
“I promise.”
I sank back, flopping like a whoopee cushion someone had sat on, then regretted it when my left side twinged like a busted guitar string. “Good.”
“I’ll pack your things.”
“How long will we be away for?”
He shrugged then leaned over to kiss my temple. I grabbed the front of his shirt so he couldn’t pull away.
“How long, Finn?”