Finn by Jessica Gadziala

Author:Jessica Gadziala [Gadziala, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Finn

I nestled her in my bed before grabbing all her bags, and having a short conversation with Perish about what to do if he saw anything going on at their place.

Then I took a moment to stop and breathe in my living room, trying to remind my body that I couldn’t be putting my hands on an injured woman just because she was staying in my bed for a few days.

I reached for my phone, shooting off a text to Malc to fill him in, so he could tell the others when they sobered up, and Fallon when he dropped by in the morning.

I didn’t plan on dropping in there tomorrow. It was top of my fucking priority list to go meet up with Junior, to see what—if anything—he’d figured out. Because I needed to find these fucks. I needed to ensure Lexy of her safety.

It wasn’t that I wanted her to go back to her house, to her life.

Despite it not being characteristic of me at all, I wanted her right where she was. In my house.

But I wanted her to know she didn’t need to look over her shoulder, to jump at shadows, to think that anyone could get their hands on her.

With no evidence of her at my place, I was confident she was as safe as she could be. And I had Perish keeping an eye out at their place, so if he saw anyone suspicious before Junior could point me in a direction, I could have him carefully follow that lead until I could meet up with him and take over.

“You need to stay off your feet,” I demanded as I saw Lexy tiptoeing down the hallway.

“I need a drink,” she declared, giving me a small smile.

“Yeah, me too,” I agreed, walking over, leaning down, and tossing her over my shoulder, hearing her startled gasp, then surprised laugh. “Told you that you aren’t walking with me around,” I told her, giving her ass a slap before dropping her down on the couch. “Now keep your stubborn ass there while I get you a drink,” I said, moving off into the kitchen to grab us glasses, doing a generous pour in each, before joining her on the couch.

We both sucked in and released deep breaths at the same time before raising our glasses for a sip.

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” she said.

“You don’t need to thank me for that. Unless you’re gonna leave wet towels all over the floor. ‘Cause I can’t fucking stand that,” I told her.

“Let me guess, your club friends?” she asked.

“Brothers. They’re called brothers,” I told her.

“I did a little research on bike clubs,” she admitted.

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, a little more charmed than I expected.

“Yeah. It sounds… suffocating to be around all those people all the time,” she said.

“It can be. Especially when you’re not in the headspace for it. But there’s something special about the club. It’s a family. You always have someone around to lean on or hang out with.

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