Page 116 of Captive Audience

Then I let go.

44

ASHA

Ididn’t stay long at the party. Just long enough to down the double shot of whiskey Orla had pressed into my hand to calm my nerves. After that, I asked Finn to take me home.

I didn’t know how long Rook and Aidan would be gone. Maybe an hour. Maybe all night. Maybe forever if something went wrong.

So I showered, spending far too long scrubbing the bruise where Greg had grabbed me, as if I could wash it away.

I pulled on a soft pair of sweats and a cami, then went digging through Rook’s closet. I had no business wearing his clothes. But my fingers found one of his bigRed Hand MMAhoodies, and I tugged it over my head anyway. When I put my nose to it and inhaled, it smelled like him—clean, spicy, masculine. He must’ve worn it once and returned it to the hanger.

I told myself I wore it for comfort.

Not because I wanted Rook wrapped around me.

Not because I missed him.

Finn and I sat on the sofa rewatching episodes ofSchitt’s Creek. Well,hewatched. I picked at the skin around my nails until it was ragged, staring at the screen but not seeing any of it.

“How long do you think they’ll be?” I asked.

Finn shrugged. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“If they’re making a deposit into the Delaware or somewhere out of town.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

I hadn’t thought about that part. What happenedafter.

“It’s taking a while, though,” I said. “Do you think they’re okay? Maybe we should call and?—”

Finn cut me a look. “Are you worried about Rook?”

“No.” I glanced at the ring on my finger and tugged the sleeves of Rook’s hoodie down over my knuckles. “Maybe a little bit.”

He snorted. “Your man’s the most lethal bastard in Philly, matched only by Aidan, who’s right beside him. Those two can handle one gobshite journalist with their eyes closed and hands tied behind their backs.”

“But what if they get caught?”

“Caught by who?” He lifted a brow.

“I don’t know. The Feds?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “We’ve got people in every agency. DEA, ATF, Homeland Security. Even a bloke at the IRS. We’re covered.”

The tightness in my shoulders eased. Somehow, the idea of my criminal husband being above the law was…reassuring.

What kind of person did that make me?

Finn shifted on the sofa to face me. “I’ll admit, I was kinda worried that you and the boss had rushed into getting married. Thought maybe you were a strange match. But it’s obvious you care deeply about each other.”

I let out a dry laugh. “It is?”

“Aye. He’s mad about you. And you”—he gave me a knowing look—“you act like you’re not, but you’re just as gone for him. That’s all that matters. If there’s love, the rest is noise.”