“Just stop.” I reach for her and wrap my arm around her skinny bicep.
She hisses in pain and wrenches her arm away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I hold my hands in the air, showing I’m not making a move toward her.
“You didn’t. It’s just bruised. That’s all,” she says.
I have so many questions about her. So many questions as to why she has bruises, why she decided to come to me; why she can’t leave me be? Too many that don’t matter right now. “Come inside. Get out of the weather. Rest. We will figure out what to do tomorrow. I shouldn’t have made you walk in the rain like this.” A chill shakes my body, and the longer we stand here the harder the rain falls.
A few pieces of her red hair sticks to the sides of her face, and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks about my offer, nibbling the pink flesh. She stalks forward, and I think she intentionally sways her hips, but I’m not going to be distracted by a woman who is too young for me and lied point blank. She’s shown up here like a crazy schoolgirl with a crush, like she’s infatuated or something. Now I have to figure out how the hell to get rid of her.
Can life stop fucking me for just a second?
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have,” she harrumphs, knocking her shoulder against mine.
I ignore the excitement her sass brings me because I don’t want to like her attitude. I don’t want to like her at all.
On an annoyed sigh, I walk toward the garage door, bypassing her, and hold out my arm to the dry space. “After you,” I say to her.
“Don’t mind if I do.” She keeps her chin up and chest out, striding away with pride. Before she gets to the door, she unwraps her hair from the bun on top of her head and twists the red mane until the water is squeezed out. She does the same with her shirt.
“It’s fine. Jaxon will show you to your room where you can get cleaned up. Then, you’re going to tell me the truth, Finley.”
“You don’t want to know my truth, Grayson. I think we are better off that way,” she says, marching up the steps to the door leading to the kitchen. “We both know this isn’t going anywhere, so why bother with the truth? Like you said, tomorrow I can be on my way. Let’s not act like you care.” She walks through the door and closes it behind her, leaving me alone in the dark garage.
I lean my hip against the truck and take a minute to compose myself. I have a feeling my truth is going to be hard to come to grips with too.
I don’t have the courage to admit what it is yet.
Chapter Ten
FINLEY
“Authorities are looking for a young female, red hair, and looks like the picture on the screen. If you see this woman, contact police immediately. She is considered armed and dangerous and is a suspect in the killings of two men in Kentucky.”
Well, this day keeps getting better and fucking better.
I step inside the door, I hear the news anchor reporting the latest headline. I look around the room, and the guys, who were just pleading their case to Grayson about giving me a break, stare at me like they want to kill me.
The tall one with a lot of tattoos and black hair has a gun pointed at me. I hold up my hands, again, while water is drips onto the floor, and my teeth chatter together. “I can explain,” I stutter through the cold blanketing over my skin and the goose bumps cause the hair on my arms to stand.
“You fucking better before I put a bullet between your eyes,” the man holding the gun says. “What the fuck do you want with Grayson, and why are you here? Are you an assassin? A paid killer? What? We’ve made a lot of enemies over the years with what we do, so tell me, who the fuck are you?”
Holy hell, these men are scary.
I’ve been face-to-face with scarier.
Loud pounding footsteps coming up the stairs behind me have my shoulders tensing. Great. I’m about to go out into the rain again.
“Woah, what the hell is going on? You guys tell me to go get her and you point a gun to her head?”
“We just watched the news. There is a nationwide search for her. It seems Finley shot and killed two men in Kentucky,” the guy with the gun speaks again.
“What?” the evil in Grayson’s voice has my fear spiking. It slithers around me like a snake, choking me from speaking the truth I wanted to hide forever.
“I can explain.” The words shake with uneven dips and pitches. “I swear. I don’t go around killing people. I have a reason—”
“We have people we love here. My wife is pregnant. If you’re bringing trouble to our home, we deserve to fucking know.” The gun pointed at my head isn’t shaking. It’s level and the man holding it is calm, but raging like a hurricane. “I will shoot you dead, girl. If you’re a threat to me and what’s mine, I’ll kill you.”
“That’s fair,” I say, swallowing. “I’m not a threat. I can explain. Just give me chance.”
“You have a minute, go,” Grayson orders from behind me.
My word isn’t going to be enough. I’m going to have to prove it. I slip off my backpack, and it falls to the ground with a plop. I unbutton my pants, and Grayson gently wraps his hand around my wrist to stop me. “You don’t have to get undressed,” he says softly, his eyes going soft around the edges. “We aren’t those kind of men.”
“I know,” I say. My gut tells me they are the kind of men that protect who they love. They don’t destroy it. “But I’m going to show you what kind of men I’m used to dealing with. It’s the easiest way to explain myself.” I unzip my pants next and kick them to the side. I don’t see standing in my bra and panties a big deal. It’s just like a swimsuit. Granted, I have hateful eyes on me at the moment, so if they kill me, I hope they allow me to put my clothes on beforehand.
I don’t want to die half naked.
With a deep breath, I grab the hem of my shirt and toss it on top of my jeans laying on the floor.
“Shit,” Grayson hisses.
The gun lowers, and the guy with the tattoos clenches his jaw.
“Jesus Christ,” the man with a cast on his leg says, looking away from me.
I have bruises and scratches all over my body, and I turn around, giving them the full affect until I’m face-to-face with Grayson. I spread my thighs, keeping myself strong even if I want to break. The gashes in my thigh are deep. They appear to be more like cuts than scratch marks from fingernails.
“You were raped,” Grayson says with a raw emotion on his face. He goes to reach for me, but then he drops his hand. His face has lost all color and for a second I think he is going to sick.
“No,” I speak the truth. “I almost was raped. Most of the marks are from my stepfather. The fresh bruises are from what happened in Kentucky. They broke into my hotel room and almost succeeded.” I look down my chest where five fingerprints on each breast are clearly visibly where he grabbed me. “I shot them to protect myself, and I got out of there.”
“And your stepfather?” Grayson asks, staring at the bruises on my face with his cinnamon-colored eyes.
“I think he’s dead too. I don’t know. I left him in a pool of blood. I stole his money and my mom’s secret stash, and I came to the only place I thought I would be safe.” I wipe my cheek when a tear falls on it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have deceived you. It was wrong.” I wrap my arms around my chest to cover myself. I don’t like how Grayson is looking at me.