I shot him an icy glare. “I tried to open up to you once. At West’s on Friday night. Remember how that discussion went? I don’t care for an instant replay, do you?”
“Ah, fuck.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Maybe I overreacted, alright?”
I took a drink from my mug. “I’m listening.”
Nolan rolled his eyes. “Just tell me what happened first.”
“Well, turns out you were right all along. Shit got too real and she pushed me away, said she doesn’t want to see me again.”
“That’s bullshit. I wasn’t right.” He let out a loud sigh through his nose. “On Friday...I was being a selfish prick. It felt weird to think about moving on from Marcus’s memory. And that’s what would happen if you took up with Finley. He’d be shoved to the backburner. I didn’t like the idea of that. I didn't want anything about our lives to change—even though it was your and Finley's business, not mine. So I just steamrolled you instead of hashing things out like you needed. But after I cooled down and thought about it, I realized you were one hundred percent right. ”
Slightly stunned by his naked honesty, I glanced up at Nolan, waiting for him to continue.
“A single woman on her own and a baby? They do need someone watching out for them. And there’s no better man than you, Grey.”
“Stop.” I didn’t need him blowing smoke up my ass.
“I mean it. You’re the type of man who helps old ladies cross the street and pulls over to help when someone has a flat tire. Christ, you stopped our convoy in Baghdad to save a stray dog from wandering into the line of fire. You’re a good fucking guy, Greyson.”
I continued drinking my coffee, looking out into the backyard. None of it mattered. It didn’t matter if my intentions were good. All Finley saw were my transgressions.
“There’s no one who could be better for her and that baby than you. Marcus would have said so, too. I know it.”
A lump formed in my throat. I wanted him to be right, I wanted this aching in my chest to ease up. But I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. “Doesn’t matter.” I stood up. “Didn’t you hear what I said? She’s done. That’s it. End of story.”
But Nolan rose to his feet, too. “Since when are you a quitter?”
He was right. I was usually the one to volunteer for the riskiest, toughest assignments out there. I didn’t believe in the word no. But this time, I was starting to realize...maybe I should.
Wait a minute. What was I thinking? Fuck that defeatist bullshit. The caveman in me wanted to take her by force if necessary – sit her down and make her listen to every reason I had about why this could work. Even if Finley didn't want to touch me, I could handle that. I was a big boy. I knew how to jerk myself off. I didn't need to sleep with her to keep helping her and Maple. They still needed me to be there for them. And by God, I was going to do my duty, blue balls and all.
Chapter Ten
Finley
A scream of rage and fear dragged me awake.
Maple? I would recognize her little voice anywhere, but I'd almost never heard her howl like that. Had she fallen out of her crib somehow? Or did she just have a nightmare?
I struggled to push off the covers. But they were oddly heavy, so plush my hands sank into them. My limbs felt as weak and floppy as wet noodles. Had I picked up a bad flu? Great, that was all I fucking needed. No way could I afford to miss work.
But maybe I'd have no choice. My stomach rolled with nausea and even opening my eyes took effort. I blinked away a strange, swimming blur...then frowned. Something felt wrong here. This room was half the size of my entire apartment and way too clean. It had a high, peaked ceiling instead of flat stucco. Hardwood floors instead of stained carpet. Even the sheets against my skin felt weirdly smooth and cool.
Unless I was so sick I'd started hallucinating, I wasn't at home. So where the hell was I?
At the renewed wail from the next room, I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the answering throb in my head. I could figure that out later. Wherever I'd gone, Maple had come with me, and she needed my help immediately. Without thinking, I jumped to my feet—only to be jerked up short. Frantically I glanced around and saw a thin silver chain dangling from a cuff on my wrist. It trailed onto the floor and under the bed, where the other cuff was locked around the bedpost.
What the actual fuck? My mouth dried up. Dizzy, I sat down again and tried to slow my pounding heart. My wobbly legs still wouldn't let me stand for too long; my arms weren't in much better shape. I wasn't strong enough yet to lift up the bed and slip the cuff off its leg. And I really didn't want to sit around waiting to recover. But maybe I could find something to break the chain or pick the lock?
I scanned the room, more slowly this time. The furniture was all matching cherry wood with fancy scrollwork: a nightstand, a chest-of-drawers, an armoire, and a vanity. I gasped at the sight of myself in the mirror. Jesus, I look like shit. My eye was surrounded by a huge, ugly purple bruise and my lip was swollen and bloodied. And was that a lump on my head? I fingered the spot gently and winced. Clearly I hadn't come to this place willingly. And if there'd been a fight, there must have been an attacker. A kidnapper...who might still be nearby. All the more reason to get my ass in gear.
I carefully stood back up and turned on the light. My chain was too short for me to reach most of the room—including the shuttered window—but I was able to start pawing through most of the furniture.