My phone charger and Kindle e-reader were also dropped at the bottom of the water fountain, but what truly enrages me… is the sight of the only shirt I’d run through fire to save.
My Radiohead T-shirt.
Finn left it in a puddle of foundation, the liquid spilling from the bottle onto the fabric. I’ve never been a violent person, but when I see Finn strolling out of the house, an infuriating grin on his face, I want to start a petition to set his junk on fire.
Blind to my destroyed clothes on the ground, Lexie charges toward Finn, tail swinging as she barks her head off.
“Down, girl,” Finn commands, and Lexie stops on cue. “Sit.” Lexie obliges, and Finn bends down on one knee to pet her. Lexie jumps at the chance to swipe her tongue across his cheek.
How could a dog so sweet… love a boy so cruel?
“Come here.” Finn scratches Lexie under the chin and rubs her belly when she rolls over on her back to greet him.
Only then do I understand.
He’s not cruel.
At least, not to her.
I stand there for a moment, watching them reunite, until Finn jerks the front door open to let his dog inside. As soon as Lexie bounds into the house, the ability to keep my cool leaves my body.
“What the hell?” I nearly shout. “Are you fucking crazy?”
I speed over to him.
Unbothered, Finn looks down at me and folds his arms over his chest.
“Oh, this?” He gives me a shit-eating grin. “Hope you don’t mind. My dad said I was irresponsible, so I figured I’d prove him wrong and take out the trash.”
My jaw crashes to the floor.
This motherfucker.
“You’re way over the line!”
His grin doesn’t waver one bit.
“Oh, sweetheart—” He surprises me by stepping closer and tilting my chin up with his index. “—I’ve been dancing with the line since before you had tits. Bite me.”
I swallow hard, deep diving into his eyes in search of a hint of humanity. For what it’s worth, he is right about that last part. Everybody knows Finn Richards was forced to deal with adult realities way before his time.
He was eight when he lost his mother.
My family didn’t even live in Silver Springs on that fateful day, but one week here and we knew all about what happened on Lake Belmont.
The details of Mrs. Richards’s death are scarce in every article I looked up before taking the job—you don’t agree to work for a widowed millionaire without doing some research first.
Most pieces on the web state there was a boating accident that ultimately led to Finn’s mother drowningin the lake, but nothing specific. From what I could gather, the boat was named after her, too, which makes it that much worse.
The dive to recover her body lasted an eternity, but even after months of tireless efforts, she never turned up.
Her body remains unfound to this day.
“What do you say, Gemstone?” Finn jerks me back to earth, his gaze burning with loathing. “Ready to quit yet?”
Smacking his hand away, I push to the tips of my toes for credibility purposes, looking like a dwarf next to him.
Seriously?