Unchained (56 page)

F
INN WAS BEYOND
furious and in an angry, foul mood when he brought the truck to a dusty halt outside the casita.

Slamming the car door, he stormed toward the front of the tiny house, ripping his tie off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket as he marched along.

Fucking women. Even when he made the effort to be a nice guy, it wasn’t enough.

Shoving open the door, he stepped into the house and slammed the door behind him. He’d taken maybe five steps when he saw her.

Shit.

“What are you doing here?” he snarled.

She looked startled by his less-than-friendly greeting.

“Um, excuse me,” she said in that snotty older sister tone he hated so much. “You are a guest here, and this ring says I can go wherever the fuck I want in my own home.”

Swinging her showcase bling in his face did nothing for his frame of mind.
Bitch.

Tearing off the suit jacket, Finn tossed it over a chair, undid his cuffs, and starting forcefully rolling back the sleeve.

“Well, good news, sis. You can have your fancy Villa. I’m looking for a place in town where your ring can’t be used as a key.”

“In town?” she bit out. “What for? When are you going back to Boston?”

He crossed his arms and stared her down. “I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Not going back to Boston.”

“I don’t understand.” Her voice dripped with condescension. “From everything I’ve heard, you hate this place. Hate the people. Hate the teamwork. And you haven’t been around enough to recognize Parker when you walked past him on the sidewalk outside his law office. So why the hell would you stay someplace you hate?”

“I have my reasons, and frankly, Meggie, what I do is none of your business.”

“Da disagrees.”

“Don’t you worry about our father. I’ll handle him. When I’m ready.”

“Finn,” she groused. Waving her arms, she came at him. “What the hell are you up to?”

He knew he was being a dick. Knew he came through the door in a vile mood. Taking it out on his sister wasn’t his proudest moment, but maybe if Remy hadn’t fucked with his head, he’d be acting more civil.

Used to women falling at his feet, he was more the, ‘Hey. You’re cute. Wanna suck my dick?’ type than the hearts-and-fucking-flowers type. Since neither of those approaches would get him anywhere with Remy, he was reacting like an angry bear whose mate just ran off with the grizzly next door. And he didn’t even really like her.

He’d feel sorry for Meghan because she stumbled into his anger bull’s-eye if he wasn’t also carrying a grudge, so he took out his bad mood on her and damn the consequences.

“Meghan, why don’t you get a life and leave mine alone. It’s always worked that way before. No reason to make a change now.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re my brother, but you’re acting like a stranger. Where is all this hostility coming from?”

“You’re joking, right? Meghan. Jesus. Come down out of your ivory tower and open your fucking eyes. Stop being Meggie the Perfect for five minutes. Newsflash, sis. Your shit stinks just like everyone else’s. And this little fantasy you have going on here can all end one day.”

She stomped her foot. Actually stomped her foot like a make-believe princess who didn’t get her way. Unbelievable.

“I demand you tell me what’s going on. Stop with all this bully nonsense. I’m your sister. Not some stranger.”

“Mrs. Marquez,” he sniped, “you couldn’t be more of a stranger if you tried.”

“That’s not true,” she cried. “We might not be close, Finn, but that doesn’t make us strangers.”

“Really? Okay. Here. Let me ask you this. Remember that trip we took to Toronto? The Hockey Hall of Fame.”

“Sure,” she assured him. “Your team won their divisional, and the finals were in Toronto.”

He was so used to it that when he saw the look on her face and heard the memory she shared, he couldn’t care less.

“Me and Dev took a picture with the Stanley Cup. Ma keeps it on the piano. Oh,” she said excitedly, “and we got a hockey stick signed by one of the Maple Leafs. Gosh. That was a great trip.”

“It was,” he agreed. “Remember anything else?”

Her brows bumped together, and he could see she was thinking. “Yeah. I remember Ma almost vapor-locking when we went to dinner. Korean food. Spiciest stuff on the menu.”

Her laugh grated on his nerves.

“Good memories?”

“The best,” she answered with a smile.

“That’s interesting, Meghan, because the whole purpose of the trip was my hockey game, but you never mention it.”

Her expression instantly became guarded and tense.

“You know what I remember? I remember getting into a fight with Dev at the gift shop over a jersey we both wanted. Da intervened and Deval, the golden child, got the jersey.”

The light was starting to dawn for his sister.

“But I got something better. Do you remember? Did you even know?” He went to the refrigerator in the tiny kitchen and grabbed a soda. Cracking open the can, he watched her face and sipped the foaming bubble that rose from the opening. “I got a trophy. Had more saves that game than anyone in my division.”

“Oh, right. I remember. A trophy. Yeah.”

Sure, she remembered.

“Do you know why I was a goalie, Meghan? Because Deval was. When it was my turn on the team, I was told what position to play. Not asked. Told. I hated being the fucking goalie, but hey, Dev, you know?”

“C’mon, Finn.”

“Oh, did you think I was finished?” He laughed harshly. “Same thing happened when I played Little League. Wore number seven for the Pirates because Mike’s old uniform fit. Nothing was ever about me. It was always about fitting in between those two. Dev and Mike. The perfect sons. And you! Shit. Nothing like an Irish princess in the family. You were groomed to find the lucky leprechaun. Only it turned out that you won the lottery and then landed a Spanish Don. How nice for you.”

“Oh, my god. Is this about the money? You know damn well I don’t care about it. If you need something, Finn, all you have to do is ask. Is that what this is about? You think you got the short end of the stick? What do you need?”

“Have you listened at all, Meggie?”

He took her arm and dragged her to the door, flinging it open and pointing at the new truck.

“Ford F-150, Super Crew King Ranch model. All the bells and whistles. Paid cash.”

And then she said the one thing sure to incite a sibling riot.

“How the hell did you afford that? Wait. Oh, shit Finn. Did you sell Gran’s emeralds?”

“No, you fucking bitch, I did not sell my grandmother’s emerald jewelry. Although that shit is mine, not yours, Meggie, and what I do with my inheritance doesn’t concern you. This is what I’m talking about,” he growled loudly. “Whenever anything is about me, right away you guys go to the negative. Shows how stupid you are and how little you paid attention.”

She looked like he slapped her, and he couldn’t care less. The genie was out of the bottle, and he’d had enough.

“Let’s do the math, shall we? While you were off following your destiny as an overachieving suburban princess and my brothers were posing shirtless for first responder fundraising calendars, little Finn was working. From the time I was fourteen, I worked my balls off every summer. And then after-school jobs right through community college. Didn’t have to save for anything because hell, when it came time to get my first car?
Pfft.
Got your hand-me-down. And it was just what every teenage boy wants for a first car. What was it? I’ll remind you. Yellow. Like school bus yellow. A VW bug. Vroom-vroom, right?”

God, he’d hated that car. Got his ass kicked in his senior year by a bunch of thugs from a competing school who hectored him with chants of Daffadildo. To this day, whenever he saw daffodils, he remembered that fucking pussy-ass car.

“I should probably thank you, though, because my little piggy bank just kept growing. Living with Mike, in his basement, but still—well, that saved me a pretty few pennies too. And I’m good with money. Not that you’d know that or anything else about me.”

“So, what Finn? You’re sitting on a pile of money? And you’re going to what with it? Spend it on a fancy truck? Have a Wild West adventure?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” He’d had enough. “Sending me here to find my head,” he bit out with some flourishing air quotes to make his point, “worked. Found it. And you know what? I finally feel like a person. Not Dev’s little brother. Or Mike’s so-called charity case. Or princess Meghan’s token plaything.”

He was on a roll, but she interrupted. “Instead of slamming your brothers, Finn, maybe you should think about being more like them. Responsible. Sensible. Level-headed …”

That was it. The straw. The last pebble.

“Get your head out of your spoiled ass. I know everyone bent over fucking backward not to
stress Meghan out
or throw a
shadow on the wedding
.” Hey, he was good at this air quote thing! “But it’s time to smell the coffee, sis. Dev and his perfect marriage? That shit tanked months ago. He and Mary Kate are lawyer shopping.”

“What the hell are you talking about? They were fine at the wedding, and we sent them something from Spain. Same address. Same Mr. and Mrs.”

“Oh, Jesus. Wake up. Dev’s been on an air mattress in the basement while they figured it out, but I know for a fact he’s looking to get a condo a couple of miles away. That marriage? Toast. And don’t even get me started on Mike. He’s one intervention shy of a lifetime membership in AA.”

That shut her up.

“The perfect, happy family you have in your mind? Didn’t include me then and doesn’t now. Deval, the big and powerful? Jesus. His wife left him for a salesman. And Mike? The spare to the Irish heir? Drinking his life away while pissing and moaning about the girl who got away. And then there’s you, Meggie darlin’. God’s special gift to red-haired women the world over. Rich, living in a western palace, and adored by all who meet you. Must be nice.”

“Finn,” she croaked. Her voice was full of the anguish he intended to place there. “I had no idea you felt this way. You must hate me. All of us. I’m so sorry for, well, for everything.”

“These assholes you think are so awesome? They saw me as dirt. Treated me like I needed to be sent to my room without dinner. If I don’t know what’s happening in your little Justice kingdom, it’s because I wasn’t welcome here. Get a grip. With you and the hubs off on your magical mystery tour to Spain, they saw me as a bug on the windscreen.”

He let all that sink in and then let loose with his final salvo.

“But no worries. I got this. Decided being a paramedic wasn’t my life calling. So I found a business to invest in. Got a partner and everything.”

“A business? What kind of business?”

Yeah, he was going to enjoy this. Enjoy watching the shock roll across her face.

“Whiskey Pete’s. Bought it. Lock, stock, and beer barrels.”

“Say again?”

“You heard me. I’m part owner of a saloon. Barry Grant and I made Pete an offer, and he took it. Barry’s gonna run the front end, and I’m revamping the kitchen so we can serve real food.”

“What the hell do you know about a commercial kitchen?”

“More than you, that’s for sure. I know you can’t boil water for shit, Meghan, but all those years at the station house with Da and in fire stations all around Boston? I picked up mad skills, and though I’m sure you’re gonna piss all over my decision, this is what I wanna do.”

She was in shock, and he was okay with that. Yeah, she was his sister, and despite all he’d just hurled at her head, he did love her. But she had to come down off her high horse and see him as his own man or, at the very least, meet him halfway if they were going to have an adult relationship that wasn’t based on a childhood where he felt lonely, ignored, and forgotten.

Taking advantage of her stunned silence, he moved her toward the door and opened it politely. “You need a ride or can you find your way home okay?”

“Finn, please.”

“No, Meghan. It’s time you wake up. This is what I want to do, so you best get used to us living in the same town. Whiskey Pete’s is mine now. And since the place is practically an annex for Justice, I suggest you figure out how to accept that shit changes. Run along now. I’m sure you have half a dozen calls to make before you believe a word of what I said.”