Becoming The Boss. Zuri Day
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of her dad’s playthings made her feel physically sick.
And of course the dirty deed had to transpire with her wearing slippers, of all things—just her rotten luck. And Finn knew what they were. Of course he did. He’d probably tugged billions of the things off perfectly feminine feet.
How. Utterly. Mortifying.
At the risk of garnering attention, she whispered furiously, ‘Don’t you ever touch me again. Your hands are not welcome on me.’ She was being unfair, she knew she was, but she despised herself for that momentary lapse.
‘Noted,’ he bit out, his jaw tight enough to crack, and she fancied his broad frame seethed with self-loathing.
Clearly she was losing it.
Serena edged around his broad frame, determined not to notice how he filled out his sinfully suave tuxedo to perfection. ‘I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning.’
She didn’t slow her pace until she was free of the oppressive glitz and glamour, her feet step-step-stepping down the stone slabs of the wide front entrance.
‘I’ll walk you down to the harbour.’
Finn fell into place beside her, hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, and as if he sensed she was spooked he ground out, ‘No arguments.’
It was the second time he’d brandished that arrogant, masculine tone like a swordsman in protective stance and it did something strange to her insides. Made her go all warm and gooey. Which naturally made her every self-defence instinct kick into gear. She wanted to tell him to get lost—preferably on Mars. But something stopped her.
It was that frigid, ominous laughter. Playing in her mind. An endless loop of pain and vulnerability. Vehement enough for her to say, ‘Okay…’ because in truth she felt infinitely safer with him beside her.
Down the cobbled streets they went, the only sound the clickety-clack of his highly polished shoes and the sensual whispers of couples strolling by hand in hand.
As always, the sight made her heart ache. Ache for something she’d never have. Relationship material she was not.
Suddenly cold, she wrapped her arms across her chest, and by the time the tang of seawater filled her lungs and the harbour was a glittering stretch before them she was waging an internal war against asking him to stay.
‘Thanks for walking with me. I’ll be fine from here.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be okay? Is there anything I can do? Anything you want, Serena?’
Cruel—she was being cruel. The last few months had turned her into a horrible, horrible person but she couldn’t curb the truth.
‘The only thing I want right now is Tom. He was more than my brother—he was my friend.’ And she didn’t want to be alone.
But you are alone, Serena, and you always will be. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
‘I know,’ he said, his voice deep and low, tainted with sombre darkness. ‘Believe me, I know.’
It was a voice she’d never heard before. One that made her stop. Pause. Wonder at the torment engulfing his beautiful blue eyes.
‘I would do anything to turn back the clock. Anything to change the words I said. If only I’d just told him no when he asked to come out with me. Countless times I’ve wished for just that.’
As if he’d hit her with a curveball, she swayed on her feet.
The way he’d phrased it, so simply, had brought it all down to choices. Tom’s choice in asking to follow his hero. Finn’s choice in allowing him to.
Strange to think how the twists of fate intertwined with free will.
Every day they lived a voyage of discovery, moved through life based on choices like forks in the road. They peered down all the options, considered, weighed the risks, finally made a choice—some good, some bad. Some affecting no one but themselves. The worst affecting those they loved. But all of them defining. Forging who they were.
She’d made hundreds of choices in her lifetime and had one major regret. A choice that had affected her dad’s life, Tom’s life too, until the day he’d died. One made when she’d been naïve about her place in the world, no more than a girl, but a disastrous choice even so.
‘I would do anything to turn back the clock.’
Serena would too.
Instead she lived with the guilt, struggled with it, controlled it. Recognised it when she saw it in others. This time she saw it in Finn—such depth of emotion—her first glimpse in…forever.
First? No. She’d been struck with shards of his shattering façade since last night.
Glimpse? No. He looked devastated. Seething with a darkness she truly believed was pain.
‘Finn?’ Who was this man? Thawing the ice and hate she’d packed in her chest. ‘Oh, Finn, you really liked him, didn’t you?’ He was grieving too.
Punching his fists deep into his trouser pockets, he cast his gaze over the moonlit ripple of the ocean. ‘He was a good kid.’
Knowing this was her chance, she begged him, ‘Tell me what happened that night. Your version. Please. My dad just keeps saying there was a storm and he fell overboard during the night, but when I checked there were no weather warnings, no reports.’
His brow etched in torment, he closed his eyes momentarily. ‘It was…’ His throat convulsed. ‘Unexpected. There is nothing more to tell.’
His tone was as raw as an open wound and she ached for him, but— ‘Why do I think there is?’
‘Because you need to let go.’ He shoved frustrated hands through his thick blond hair. ‘Otherwise you’ll find no peace, Serena. I promise you.’
A cool rush of sea air washed over her in a great wave and she crossed her arms over her chest, then curled her fingers around her upper arms and rubbed at the sudden prickle of gooseflesh.
‘Peace? I don’t know what that feels like. I never have.’
Finn stilled, watching her, predator-like. Then anger crept across his face, dark and deadly, and her pulse surged erratically at her wrist.
‘Have you been hurt? In the past?’ he asked, almost savagely.
It was as if his genetic make-up had been irrevocably altered and she could feel the ferocious fury of an animal growling through him. Not to harm—no, no. To protect.
She shouldn’t like that. She really shouldn’t.
‘Serena?’
‘I… Well…’ She bit her top lip to stem the spill of her secrets.
Ridiculous idea. It had to be the way he visibly swelled beneath his suave attire as if to shield her. It made her heart soften and she couldn’t afford that. Just the thought rebooted her self-preservation instincts and she dodged.
‘To be honest, Finn, I’m not one for dwelling on the past.’ She didn’t want to remember being naïve and weak and broken. Didn’t want Finn to suspect she was any of those things. She refused to be vulnerable to him. To any man ever again.
More importantly, she was over it. She’d made a life for herself. A good life. True, being initiated into the dark realms the world had to offer at fourteen years old was not conducive to relationships and all the messy complexities that came with them.
It was hard to trust, to let go. And, while she’d vowed her past wouldn’t define her, or cripple her life with fear, any attempts she’d made at intimacy had been a dishearteningly dismal experience. She’d chosen a wonderfully sweet safe guy but she’d felt distanced somehow. Detached. Compounded by her blatant lack of femininity,