out. I got a few good punches in, but he took off before I could apprehend him. That’s what you were going to ask next, right? If we caught the guy who jumped your daughter right outside of a club packed with people?”
We stand there staring at one another, and the tension is so thick in the room I might be a little uncomfortable with it if I gave two shits what this woman thinks of me.
“Finn, could you go outside and greet the police officers when they get here?” Eve asks, breaking my stare and walking around me towards the kitchen.
She busies herself making a pot of coffee, running water into the carafe, and rummaging through cupboards for mugs and coffee grounds, completely ignoring the fact that I just called her on her bullshit.
Finn spares one more guilt-ridden glance towards Layla before turning and walking out the door. Walking over to where she sits on the couch, I go back to my earlier position of kneeling in front of her on the floor and take the wet towel from her hands. I begin softly patting the cuts and scrapes on her knees to try to get them to stop bleeding, pausing and wincing with her every time she takes in a painful breath when I touch a particularly rough looking spot.
“You shouldn’t have done that. You’re on her shit list now,” Layla says softly, not looking up from what she’s doing.
“I couldn't care less what that woman thinks of me,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Eve can’t hear us. “It’s disgusting that she cares more about your appearance than what could have happened to you out there.”
Layla shrugs and I notice the mirth in her eyes from a few moments ago when I teased her about the size of her home is now completely gone. Her shoulders droop and her head hangs low, the sparkle in her eyes, despite what happened to her earlier, replaced by dullness and resignation.
“I’m used to it. It’s no big deal.”
I open my mouth to argue with her. To tell her that it IS a big deal and tell her she’s worth more than her mother even knows, that she’s strong and amazing and nothing Eve says means anything, that EVE doesn’t mean anything, but before I can reassure her, the door opens and the cabin is suddenly filled with members of the Nashville police department and three EMTs who all rush to Layla’s side, shoving me out of the way to tend to her and ask her questions.
I recognize a few of the men from the force, none of whom I’ve seen since Eric’s funeral because I chose to shut myself off from these people and that life the day I said goodbye to him and began to drown myself in booze. It’s awkward and uncomfortable at first as they shake my hand, pat me on the back, and ask me how I’ve been. I can see Layla’s questioning eyes as she watches the exchange between us. I know she probably wonders how they know me and why they look at me with pity in their eyes. If I want to protect her and find out why the hell she was attacked tonight and who was responsible, I need her to trust me. And I know the only way I can go about doing that is to be honest with her about the kind of person I used to be. Hell, maybe even still am. She needs to know what she’s getting into with me because looking at her right now, with her chin held high and determination on her face as she relives every moment of her attack, I know I’m done for when it comes to this woman. She’s gotten under my skin, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to remove her. I can’t walk away and I sure as shit can’t ignore whatever this is between us. The only way I can figure that out and what happened to her tonight, is to stick to her like glue. And after dancing close to her and holding her in my arms, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now. I just need to convince her of that.
Ray Bergin holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder, grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressing it against his black eye while he waits for his call to be answered.