Page 7 of The Lies That Shatter
As soon as we’re alone, Mel turns to face me, her silver eyes appraising mine. “Why did you offer to walk her home?”
“For you,” I reply without hesitation. “I know you want to spend time with your dad. I would like to stay and help you, but I think I need to meet your dad a few more times before we reach that stage, and I’d like to do that under better circumstances. This was the only way I could think to be helpful. Why do I get the feeling you don’t trust my motives?”
Mel shakes her head. “Sorry, old habits. I know she’s a beautiful girl…who is your age.” Mel doesn’t elaborate, but it’s easy to hear her unspoken words. She’s vulnerable and jealous, and she has every reason to be. Mac is a million times the womanshe will ever be, and the mere fact that I have to pretend to feel any different guts me.
“You don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for you,” I say as I place a kiss on her cheek. A big smile flashes her perfectly white teeth, and I know I’ve won her over this time.
I leave quickly after that, but as I walk down the long driveway, away from the ridiculously posh house, I can’t help but think about how I wanted to finish that sentence…
“I only have eyes for you…because it’s my job. My heart beats for her. My soul aches for her. Every fibre of my being belongs to her. It will only ever be her.”
My heart is racing so fast I can hear it pounding in my ears as I dash out of the Whitlock house. As I speed walk down the ridiculously long driveway, I keep picturing the look on Finn’s face when he saw me. I thought he was going to give the game away in those few seconds.
I’ve had weeks to prepare for that moment, knowing we would come face-to-face sooner rather than later, but pretending that I didn’t know him still hurt. So I can only imagine how he felt.
At first, he looked at me the way he always has, like I’m the only girl in the world, and it was like butterflies were soaring around in my stomach. But then the realisation of where we were, and the situation around us, caught up with him, and thestone mask he wears came crashing down. He looked at me with such indifference, like I didn’t matter at all—or, at least, that’s what he wanted to portray. And to the casual observer, that’s what they would have seen.
But I know Finn better than anyone, despite the years we’ve spent apart, and I could see the fire in his crystal blue gaze. No matter how mad he is with me, he still looks at me like I’m perfect to him. But I could also see his confusion, and a little anger, over why I’m here.
I know I should have waited for him, so I could find a way to explain myself—and the situation. I owe him that much. But as soon as I saw that bitch place her lips on his, a white hot jealousy, the likes of which I’ve never felt before, overtook me. I couldn’t look at them without wanting to claw the harpy’s eyes out.
I’ve never been a jealous or violent person, but if I’d stayed in that room, I’m certain I would have blown Finn’s cover and ruined everything he’s working hard to achieve. I might not be prone to violence, but as a foster kid, I learnt from an early age to protect what’s mine.
I bounced from home to home, the only possessions I could truly call mine were the items I could fit into my ratty backpack, but I would protect them with my life. I’d learnt early on not to be sentimental, not to hold on to things, because nine times out of ten, you will lose them—or they will leave you. It’s not really even that people leave me, it’s more that they throw me away like I’m the trash they never wanted.
Finn was the only constant in my life from a young age. No matter which group home or foster family they stuck me with, Finn was there to help me through it. He was the shining light that helped me get through all my dark days, who held me in his arms when I was scared. I thought he was the one that would never hurt or leave me. Fuck, was I wrong.
He didn’t just break my heart. He ripped it out and took it with him, leaving a festering hole I knew would never be filled. I should hate him. I should have moved on and never thought of him again. I told him he’d never get a second chance with me…but I didn’t mean it. I don’t hate him, and I never could.
For eleven years, he’s consumed my thoughts—both when awake and dreaming. I tried to forget about him, going on random dates with faceless, nameless guys, but it didn’t work. They all left me empty, forced to please myself afterwards with thoughts of Finn. Always him.
That’s how I find myself in the middle of a pit of snakes, risking everything for a guy who broke my heart over a decade ago. But that’s the problem with falling in love. You don’t get to choose who owns your heart. You just have to hope like hell they trust you enough to give you theirs in return.
Eleven years ago, I let him push me away. I believed all the cruel words he said. I walked away with tears streaming down my red, puffy face, and a trail of blood lagging behind me from where he tore out my heart. But I’m not a naïve teenager anymore. I know Finn’s life is more complicated than he lets on. I’m done waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass and realise we’re supposed to be together. Fuck fate, I’m making my own destiny.
I had so much confidence bouncing around my body when I accepted the job, working for Melanie Whitlock. I felt strong and powerful, knowing I was finally helping Finn, but the minute I saw him, all that confidence fell away and I was left bare.
What the fuck am I doing here?I have no idea how he really feels. I’ve stupidly convinced myself that he has feelings for me too, despite what he said in the past. Maybe all the things I’ve been thinking are fabrications of an overactive imagination and a desperate desire for him to love me back.
All these thoughts consume me, killing the confidence and assurance I had before he laid those gorgeous blue eyes on me. One look and he stripped me bare, and the festering wound I’ve tried so hard to heal begins to weep again. So I run.
I make it down the driveway and around the corner into the alley that runs down the side of the building before I finally stop to allow myself a second to breathe.
Leaning against the cold, hard red brick wall, I find myself desperately gasping for air. I’m panting like I’ve just run a hundred metre sprint at the Olympics, when really all I did was speed walk the hell away from my past. My inability to catch my breath has less to do with the exercise and a lot more to do with the impending panic attack that’s threatening to overwhelm my body.
The fast beating of my heart is pounding loudly in my ears as I sway slightly thanks to the dizziness threatening to overtake me. The harsh texture of the brick is scratching at the exposed skin on my lower back from where my T-shirt has ridden up, and my palms are sweating.
Fuck. Did he have to look so insanely gorgeous?
If I thought the teenage boy I fell in love with all those years ago was hot, he has nothing on the breathtaking man he’s grown into. His boyish face has hardened into sharp lines, but there’s a hint of those sexy dimples he gets when he smiles just for me.
He was always a little on the leaner side—thanks to his love of running—but now he’s bulked up a bit with muscles in all the right places. He’s not body-builder big, but I have no doubt that he’s ripped. My mouth waters as I think about running my hands and my tongue over his rippling hard abs.
I felt like this three years ago when I saw him for the first time since our argument at sixteen. I was overwhelmed by how much he’d grown up, and how much hotter he’d got. And now everytime I see him, I notice a little more. There’s just something about him that grabs me in a new way each time I see him.
As I think about how unbelievably sexy Finn now looks, instead of the ridiculous situation I’ve got myself in, I begin to calm down, my breathing returning to normal as my heart rate finally slows. Sadly, all the dirty thoughts I’m having do absolutely nothing for my panties, as they become soaked with each new thought.
I’m so lost in the moment, my eyes closed as I think of all the ways he’s grown up, I miss the sound of approaching footsteps. I sense someone’s presence encroaching on my personal space, my eyes flying open as the potential danger finally registers.
