Beaufort, South Carolina
March 27
Surrounded by her adopted family, Twitch felt safe and happy despite the attack mere hours earlier. A traumatic event brought out people’s true colors, and her friends’ colors were vibrant.
Tox and Calliope were away on separate assignments. Steady and Cam were on the op with Tox, but everyone else was here. Emily sat next to her on the sofa, insisting she eat. Coco, who Twitch suspected was more shaken from the assault than even she had been, lay at their feet staring at the front door. Chat and Nathan stood outside speaking with the chief of police, and Ren had flagged down and redirected Beaufort’s one roving reporter driving the news van, which doubled as the Beaufort Blooms flower delivery van. Nathan’s Aunt, Maggie Bishop, and Twitch’s friend Very were busy in the kitchen, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon wafting through the house. Evan, Cam’s new girlfriend, was hard at work cleaning fingerprint dust and broken glass. Herc was canvassing the neighborhood. In another hour, Twitch wouldn’t know anything had been amiss.
Morning was approaching. In the evaporating darkness, wrens and seagulls were making their presence known. Outside, a car backfired, and Twitch jumped, but Coco merely barked a hello as her stub of a tail bounced. The front door opened, and Twitch froze. Finn stood in the doorway, surveying the space, taking in every detail from the blood near his feet to the toppled lamp in the corner to the people milling about.
When his blue eyes found hers, Twitch saw something she hadn’t seen in nearly seven years. Along with the scarring, the nerves and muscles in Finn’s right cheek had been damaged, so when he smiled, only the left side of his face lifted. She only knew that from the few times Finn had delivered an evil grin or an arrogant smirk. But this time, his crooked smile was warm and concerned. It was the smile of a Finn she once knew.
He was healing. She could see it.
In long strides, he crossed to her and knelt at her feet. Emily stood and excused herself without a word. Finn gave Coco a scratch then placed both hands on Charlotte’s knees.
“Talk it out.”
She instantly was transported to the cozy office in her parent’s West Village brownstone. Twitch on her laptop, working to break through a firewall, virtual boobytraps, and red herrings everywhere; Finn, sitting across from her, studying a SEAL manual. She had growled in frustration and nearly slammed the computer shut. Finn had looked up.
Talk it out.
I can’t breach this firewall. Everything is a trap.
Put yourself on the other side of the wall. If you were the one trying to keep people from seeing a way in, what would you do?
So, don’t get distracted by the diversions?
Exactly. Where are there no shiny objects? That’s your path.
Yes, yes! I think I see it now.
He must have been remembering the same exchange because, again, he gifted her with that endearing crooked smile.
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it,” she said.
Her first instinct was to throw herself into Finn’s arms and cry. She stared into those captivating navy-blue eyes. Who was this man? He certainly wasn’t the pie-eyed boy from her past. And, thank God, he wasn’t the tinder box he had been for the past several years.
He was someone new. Someone Twitch felt invading her being. This man, this familiar stranger, was igniting a desire within her more powerful than she had ever known. Again.
Twitch slammed on the mental breaks with such force she was lucky her brain didn’t crash into her forehead. She shot to her feet.
“What are you even doing here?”
Finn sat back on his heels, his face pleading. “You were attacked, Charlotte. I came to help.”
“I don’t need or want your help, Finn. You should leave.”
She saw the pain flash across his face, then resolve. He nodded at the floor.
“All right.” He rose to his full height and stood over her. “I know I’m not your go-to guy. But I want you to know going forward, you can count on me.”
His eyes didn’t stray from her face, reminding her that she still needed to tell him about the baby. Now was not the time.
Charlotte staggered back a step. Squeezing her eyes shut, she told herself those were just words, and Finn’s actions had done more damage than words could ever repair.
As if reading her thoughts, he continued, “I know I can’t just say that. I’m going to show you, Charlotte. I don’t know where our paths will lead, but I know I’m going to prove to you as often as I can for as long as I can that I’m worthy of your...” he corrected himself, “that I’m worthy.”
He reached out to touch her, and she retreated. Finn shoved both hands into his pants pockets, turned, and left.