Page 25 of Protecting Lainey (Broterhood Alliance #7)

Finn tossed and turned all night, trapped in the same nightmare.

Lainey lay dead on the floor, blood seeping across the tile. Luke crouched beside her, sobbing. Her mother, fury in her eyes, pointed a finger at him.

“ Why didn’t you help?”

And Finn was just out of reach, frozen, helpless, unable to move.

He jolted awake a couple of times, the sheets twisted around his legs. Every little noise in the house set him on edge.

Finally, the alarm went off, dragging him out of his twisted dream.

He woke, his heart already racing. He sat up, drenched in a cold sweat, the vinegary scent of fear clinging to his skin.

Fuck.

He hadn’t been this afraid for another person in years. It wasn’t unexpected to lose someone in combat. Soldiers knew the risks. But this was Lainey. His Lainey.

Well, not his yet.

Finn got up, showered, dressed, and was pouring a cup of coffee when his phone buzzed.

Tex.

He answered on the second ring. “What’ve you got?”

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine,” Tex drawled.

“Tex.”

“Cummings has disappeared. Radio silence. I’m still digging. I’ll let you know when I have more.”

“Appreciate it. Thanks, Tex. I owe you.”

“Don’t go getting all sentimental,” Tex said.

Finn chuckled. It was rumored one SEAL had sent Tex flowers as a thank you. Tex had responded with a glitter bomb in return.

Click.

He sipped his coffee, half smiling.

Okay, no owing.

But he couldn’t help wondering why Cummings had disappeared and what that meant.

Lainey yawned and stretched her body up from the chair. She pushed the papers around her desk, the invoices and budget sheets blurring together. Last night with the girls had taken her mind off her problems, but today … they were still here.

She had to balance the budget, go over the outstanding invoices, connect with Gus, pretend that the Brotherhood wasn’t watching her every move and that her life wasn’t turning into a shit show.

Her temple throbbed.

Good times, Lainey.

The sound of boots outside her door made her look up.

Speaking of good times, Finn just walked in. His broad shoulders filled the doorway.

“Are you here to give me more bad news?” she asked, rubbing her neck.

He shook his head and stepped inside. “Lainey, we’re just trying to keep this project and you safe. I came to give you some news. It’s not necessarily bad but concerning.”

His voice lowered as he stepped closer. “I need to know exactly what happened in Charleston.”

She furrowed her brow. Her pulse quickened. “I’ve already told you what happened.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You told me what the papers reported. Not what Richard said when no one was listening.”

Oh God, she did not want to go there again. But the memory wouldn’t disappear. It never did.

She held the budget report in her hands. The numbers were off. Again.

When she asked about the new vendor and why the invoice was rerouted, he just said, “I took care of it.” As if that explained everything. “You’re worrying too much.”

“But my name is on the paperwork.”

She stared at Finn. He looked so determined, so willing to believe she’d been in the dark, had no idea what Richard was doing. And for the most part, she had.

But it was time to face the music.

“He threatened me,” she said in a whisper.

Finn’s expression darkened. “When?”

“The night I confronted him about missing money. Right before he vanished.” She leaned back in her chair and took a deep, shaky breath. “He told me I’d ruined everything, that I’d live to regret it. That if I tried to fix it…” Her throat tightened. “He’d come for my mother. My son.”

The room fell silent. The only sound was the hum of the AC.

“I was going to go to the police,” Lainey said after a long moment. Why were her hands ice-cold while her pulse was racing? Could she pass out? Please. Anything not to rehash this.

“I had everything ready. But when I talked to a lawyer, he pointed out every contract was in my name. Every signature on any piece of paper was mine.”

She gave a hollow laugh. “So, what would I have said? Richard whispered something vague about ruining me. About hurting my mother. My son. Where was the proof? It was just words.”

Her mouth was dry. “I would have been the one under investigation.”

Lainey swallowed hard. The experience had left a sour taste in her mouth. She’d been so alone, so afraid.

“I paid off the debt, sold my house and moved here.”

Finn sat back, his jaw tight. “I should have been there.”

Lainey blinked. “Finn …”

“No. I left,” he said quietly. “I walked out of your life, and he walked in. And you went through hell alone.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. How could you have known?”

“I should have.” He ran a hand down his face, then through his hair. “I should have.”

A long moment passed. Then Finn leaned forward.

“You’re not alone anymore, Lainey. Not now. Not ever.”

Her breath hitched.

“Richard doesn’t get to take anything else from you. Not your project. And sure as hell not your family.” He reached across the desk, resting his hand on hers. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”