“You need a big gesture,” she tells me, as if I should’ve figured it out on my own. “You can’t just apologize and hope this will work out.”
I sip the sharp whiskey that burns on its way down my throat. “And what exactly would you propose I do?” I ask, meeting her stare.
Grecia sits back and ponders my query for a long while. Even though I try to come up with something, I just can’t figure out what I can do other than asking him to fucking marry me. But he’s already engaged, so that wouldn’t work. I could buy something for him, but that’s not feasible because the bastard can get anything he wants with his own money.
And then Grecia says, “Give him something he can’t get for himself.” And I know exactly what it is I’ll give him.
17
FINN
Every day that has passed since we got back to Thorne Haven, I’ve gotten more and more anxious. It’s almost been a week, and I haven’t heard from Jarred. Thankfully, Zaria has been here to distract me, but I can tell she’s getting more depressed not knowing where her mother is.
My father has kept me busy with work, so I haven’t seen Zaria all day. The only thing I want right now is to get lost in her, to forget about everything. But when I walk into the room, I’m stopped dead in my tracks as what I find.
“What are you doing?” My voice is rough, anger surges through me like a violent storm raging against anything that’s standing in its way. My nerves are shot. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next few days, let alone the rest of my life. Everything I thought about Jarred was a lie. He knew exactly what he was doing when he came to Thorne Haven. Leaving him in Tynewood was the least of my worries, though, because now, Zaria is sitting in the dark and I can tell she’s been crying.
“Nothing,” she mumbles, but as she pushes to her feet, she stumbles. My hand shoots out quickly to catch her, and her body molds against mine. This isn’t the first time we’ve been close, her curves against my solid frame, but the way her head tilts back and her dilated pupils find mine, I realize she’s drunk.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on?” I bite out, frustration and anger, once again, taking hold of me. Emotions aren’t new to me; I tend to have them consume me at times. When I found out about Jarred’s lie, I saw red, my blood burned with the deceit of what the unfaithful bastard did.
Zaria doesn’t respond, she shoves her phone at my chest. The device hitting me right at my heart, and I grab it with my free hand while I lead her to her bed. With a flop, she falls to the mattress, and then curls up as if she’s been punched in the gut. I use her hand to unlock the damn thing and see the article that’s been splashed across her screen.
“He’s been around all my life,” she tells me in a whisper. “He was at my sixteenth birthday party.” The man photographed with her mother looks familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on why. The headline states that her mother has moved on from her father’s untimely death. The happy couple are walking out of the courthouse, and it’s clear that the large diamond on her mother’s left hand is a wedding ring.
I’m pulling my phone out and tapping dial on a number to our PI. We have a few who work for us, and I know that Harris will be able to find out who this bastard is. There’s something so familiar about him, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. The dark hair and tanned features aren’t all that I recognize though, it’s his eyes. They look so much like Nesrin’s, it’s startling.
“Hello, Mr. Thorne,” Harris answers before I have time to let my brain wander too far down a path I may not like.
“I’ve told you before, I’m Finn.” Even as I say this, the chuckle comes through because he knows it annoys the fuck out of me. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” is his response, because he would do anything for us. He’s been like family and knows us far too well.
“There’s someone I need information on. And I mean everything you can dig up. There may be some hidden files,” I tack on because my gut tells me there’s more to this stranger than meets the eye. He’s now married Zaria’s mother, which means he knows about the Thornes, and he must know that I’m about to marry Zaria.
“Send me the info and I’ll get to it. Is there a deadline?”
I grin. “I’ll give you a couple of hours,” I throw back, because I know that Harris will have it to me in less than that. I hang up and send him what he needs before I turn my attention back to my little princess. “Get up,” I tell her, the order is cold, swift, and commanding.
Her eyes lock on mine, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t respond to me. I’m not sure what the fuck she drank, but she’s out of it. I didn’t expect to see the well put-together woman like this. But I can’t deny if that were me, I’d be a mess too. Granted, when my father remarried, I didn’t blame him. He was alone for years before Marcia came along.
I know I’m going to regret this, but I stalk to the bed and scoop Zaria up, throwing her over my shoulder. Now that she’s hanging upside down, and she’s drunk, I’m expecting her to throw up before I reach the bathroom. But I’m impressed when she doesn’t. I flick on the shower after setting her on her feet.
“Take your clothes off,” I tell her as I wave a hand at her outfit. When I first saw her in the dress earlier, my cock responded and wanted to know what she had underneath. And even now, as the possibility of her getting naked is presented to me, I can’t deny I’m hungry to see her curves.
“What?” Her brows furrow as she regards me. “No.”
“You’re my wife, take your fucking clothes off, or I’ll take them off for you.” My voice has turned to ice, and I see her shiver at my tone. When she doesn’t comply, I take a step toward her. The steam has filled the room and it billows around us as I near her. Once I’m inches from her, she dips her head back to regard me.
“What are you doing?” she whispers as she watches me. She’s still wobbly, but I quickly grip the dress she’s wearing and tear the material from her body. There was no other way to get it off her, because I did ask her to undress, and she refused me. “Finn!”
Ignoring her, I point to the shower. “Get in.” I half expect her to refuse. She’s fire where I’m ice. But with those sad eyes on mine, melting me slowly, she complies and steps under the spray. The fact that she’s not wearing underwear doesn’t go unnoticed, but I’ll talk to her about that when she’s sober. As much as I do enjoy alcohol, I’m not one to stick my dick anywhere near a girl who’s inebriated so much that she can hardly stand.
When she leans against the tiles, frustration gets the better of me and I pull off my T-shirt and I step under the spray. My sweatpants are soaked through, but my arms wrap around her and I hold her up. Gritting my teeth, I turn on the cold tap, before shutting off the hot one. The moment those icy prickles stab at us, a scream is wrenched from Zaria’s lips.
I recall seeing my father do this to my mother when I was little. She struggled the same way. I didn’t know what was happening, only that mom was screaming and dad was holding her. Everything was blurry at the time, but now that I’m in the exact same position, I realize my father isn’t the bastard I always thought he was.