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Authors: Kit Rocha

Beyond Addiction (31 page)

BOOK: Beyond Addiction
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“Fine, if you’re going to be practical about it.” Ace grinned up at Finn. “Since you’re getting wobbly lines now, I’ll give you a free tattoo when you get back.”

“Deal. Now I’m gonna come back just to collect,” Finn replied, appreciating the chance to step back from the weight of the moment. Not that it lasted for long. His brain kept circling back to Trix, sobbing herself out on his chest…

It shook his resolve. Her pain always did. In his gut, Finn knew she could have made him stay. Even if it felt like turning his back on everything she’d taught him, even if it meant dooming everyone she loved to a brutal, bloody war.

Trix could have forced him to sacrifice everything else before himself. And she hadn’t.

God, he
had
to come back. He glanced down at the tablet, trying to focus on the first section of the map. “I went to Six last time. If I get away, they’ll expect that.”

Zan glowered at the tablet. “You’re gonna be armed, right?”

“No.” Pulling a weapon would defeat the damn point. Dallas had to play by the sector leaders’ rules to avoid blowback, and handing over an obvious assassin instead of a prisoner would bring shit down on Sector Four as fast as not handing Finn over at all.

Bren shrugged. “We’ll take care of that when we plant your supplies.”

“Thanks.” He met Bren’s gaze. Even though they weren’t saying goodbyes, weren’t saying anything at all that acknowledged the probability Finn would never reach those weapons, he couldn’t leave it at that. “I mean it, Bren. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. And I mean
that
.”

Finn gripped the tablet until the edges dug painfully into his palm. “You’ll look out for her, right? Take care of her. Until I get back.”

“Yeah, man. We all will.”

Cold comfort. For Trix and for Finn.

“There we go,” Ace said, swiping Finn’s wrist one last time before straightening. “Too bad we don’t have time to drink you in, but you probably don’t need to be puking up sixteen shots right now.”

“Probably not.” Finn lifted his wrist and studied the tattoo. The O’Kane skull insignia sat front and center, but it was surrounded by pistons and gears and edged with lines of what looked like chain-link fencing. “Shit, Ace, you’re as good as you think you are.”

“I know.” Ace rose and slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re ours now. You know what that means, right?”

“O’Kane for life,” Jas said as the miniature tablet in his hand beeped. He glanced down at it, and his jaw tightened as he shoved it in his back pocket. “Time to roll.”

“Let me wrap his damn wrists before you slap cuffs on them,” Ace grumbled, coming back with a tube of med-gel and two bandages. Finn suffered through the pointless exercise because he recognized the manic edge to every word out of Ace’s mouth. He felt it, too.

Having time to say goodbye didn’t make shit easier, it just drew out the suffering. Which was why he didn’t ask Jas if Trix would be there, didn’t let himself consider going to find her one last time.

They’d had their moment. Anything else he took now would be selfish, more pain for her to sweeten whatever hours he had left. Too high a price.

He just wished he could have heard
I love you
one last time.

Ace finished wrapping his wrists, and Finn rose. “Let’s go.”

Noah shoved open the door to the studio. Finn followed him through, only to stop abruptly inside the courtyard. People were standing around, faces he’d never even seen interspersed with the ones he knew well. They were silent, grave.

Respectful.

Lex stepped forward with a pair of handcuffs dangling from one hand. “Hang on to these. You can wait and put them on when you get close to the rendezvous point.”

Finn took them. “Thanks, Lex.”

She hesitated. “Trix is— She said to tell you…” She looked away.

It was better like this. If he repeated that enough times, he’d believe it. “I know. Tell her...fuck. Whatever will help. She knows I love her.”

“Yeah.” Lex smiled and brushed his hair back out of his eyes. “We all do, honey.”

They all loved Trix, or they all knew Finn loved her. Both were probably true. Neither made it easier to squeeze her hand. “She’s got you.”

Hawk was waiting with Bren beside the open trunk of the car, and Jas was already behind the wheel. Dallas stood next to the passenger door, his gaze utterly unreadable. “No one’ll blame you if you turn around, man. Don’t do this because you think you won’t have a place here if you don’t.”

Easy words to offer. Finn even believed them...to a point. But damn near every person standing in the courtyard had a line, a person whose loss they couldn’t come back from. Dallas had dozens that could cripple him, and one that would completely destroy him.

Finn had told Trix the truth, and had seen the reality of it reflected back from her eyes. Only so many O’Kanes could die before the dream died with them. “I’m good,” he said, reaching for the back door of the car. “Let’s get this shit over with.”

“Wait,” Trix called. She hovered in the open door of the garage, the light filtering through her tangled hair like a halo. She stood there for an endless moment, then ran across the space between them and threw her arms around Finn’s neck.

He caught her, dragging her to him so tightly his brain clamored that she couldn’t breathe, but it
hurt
to loosen his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Maybe the night Tracy had died, when booze had stripped away everything but the idea of forever without her.

His throat hurt now. He swallowed hard and sank his fingers into her hair. “Hey, baby.”

She pressed a trembling kiss to the side of his neck. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before.”

“Shh, I know. I know, baby doll.” He buried his face in her hair. “I’m going to try. Believe me. Believe that all I want in the world is to come back to you.”

Trix nodded and tugged at one of his hands, prying it open. “I brought this for you. You should have it.” She placed something warm in his hand.

The chain slithered through his fingers as Finn lifted his palm and stared at the familiar white-gold band made of delicate Celtic knots with tiny, glinting amethysts. He’d seen the ring on his mother’s hand every day until she died, and it had been the only thing he’d managed to hang on to.

He’d given it to Trix five months before she disappeared from his life. And she’d
kept
it.

Wrapping the chain around his fingers, he smiled. “This thing must be good luck, if you ended up here.”

“I hope so.” She took a step back, then another, and Lex slid an arm around her shoulders.

Getting into the car was the hardest fucking thing he’d ever done.

Beckett had arranged the prisoner exchange with all the paranoid finesse of a pre-Flare spy villain. Finn, Hawk, Bren, Jas, and Dallas stood two hundred feet back from the road separating Sectors Four and Five.

It looked different at night. Eden’s walls shone in the distance, but not brightly enough to illuminate the surrounding area. It would be hard to hit a target in the dark, and the lack of buildings or structures gave Bren no convenient perches to set up a perfect shot.

The only real illumination came from the headlights on their car, and the ones shining back at them from Five. Just one vehicle—that had been in the rules, too—which meant no more than five or six men on the other side of the line.

If Beckett was playing fair.

“Shipp and Alya are going to kill me for letting you do this,” Hawk muttered before pulling Finn into an awkward, one-armed hug. It was as close to affection as he’d ever gotten from the man, which meant Hawk was pretty damn sure this was the end.

“Get them out of Six,” Finn replied, slapping Hawk’s shoulder. “You’ll do good with O’Kane. So will they.”

“I know.”

Hawk moved aside, and Finn stepped up to where Bren and Jas were talking with Dallas. Well, arguing.

“I don’t like it,” Bren said, shaking his head. “We all know Beckett’s crazy. If you go up there without protection, what’s to stop him from trying to take you out?”

“The fact that he’s asking the same damn question.” Dallas checked his pistol before shoving it into its holster. “And the fact that I’m capable of snapping him in half and dying for the fucking chance?”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Jas growled. “In a one-on-one fight, you’d take him easy. But nothing about this guy screams
fair play
. It’s worth thinking about precautions.”

“It’s a chance we have to take. If he’s smart, he won’t do anything to risk losing the backing of the other sectors. If he’s not…” Dallas shrugged and glanced at Finn. “The first sign of foul play, you haul your ass right the fuck back over here, because I’m not sacrificing you for nothing.”

Finn nodded and snapped the cuffs around his wrists. The chain between them had enough give to be comfortable, but not enough that he could do much more than let his arms hang in front of him. “I’m not in a hurry to die either, it turns out.”

Someone whistled from across the way, and Beckett’s voice rang out. “Any time tonight, O’Kane.”

Finn shared a final look with the other men before turning resolutely toward his fate. Dallas fell in beside him as they took the first steps toward the south road.

They made it halfway there before Finn spoke. “Promise me she’ll be okay, O’Kane.”

“We’ll take care of her,” Dallas replied, reaching for Finn’s arm. His grip was firm, reassuring—and didn’t change the fact that Dallas hadn’t answered the question.

There wasn’t time to ask another. Beckett and Dom grew closer, backlit by the headlights on Beckett’s car, and Finn’s gut twisted. Only the fact that Bren had promised to put a bullet in Dom’s head before he got within a mile of Trix made it possible to hold himself still as Dom’s vicious scowl became clear.

Beckett stopped a few yards away. “Dallas.”

“Beckett.” Dallas tightened his grip, pulling Finn to a stop on the opposite side of the road. “You gonna play by the rules you made up at your secret meeting?”

The man shrugged one shoulder beneath his impeccable suit. “I’d have had no need for such theatrics if you had responded to my requests. My
repeated
requests.”

Dallas was still gripping his arm, silent and angry, and Finn knew he was fighting for the coldness to hand him over, not to mention struggling for a last-minute miracle, when the only hope they had left was Beckett’s treachery.

Finn had bet on longer odds.

He tugged his arm free of Dallas’s grip and stepped forward. Beckett nudged Dom into a walk, his stare fixed on Finn. He didn’t take his eyes off him, not for a second. A heartbeat.

Finn didn’t watch Beckett. He watched Dom, because Beckett wasn’t the sort of man who did his own dirty work. And Dom was walking too willingly, and it sure as hell wasn’t out of some noble impulse or a desire to save someone.

They crossed close enough for their shoulders to brush, and Dom bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Did you keep her warm for me?”

Finn clenched his fists, fighting the urge to knock all those teeth down his fucking throat. “Donnelly’s gonna kill you and leave your body in the desert for the vultures.”

“You think so?” Dom’s grin only grew wider. “Then I’ll see you in hell, asshole.”

Dom shoved past him, ramming his shoulder hard enough that Finn staggered, had to twist to keep his balance.

If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have seen the flash of silver catch the moonlight as Dom started toward Dallas.

His brain scrambled to piece together the meaning while his gut took over. A lifetime of experience with assholes like Beckett, like
Dom
, kicked in, and the math was so fucking simple.

Dallas. Dom. A knife.

His fucking miracle had arrived.

Dom was still easing the blade from his sleeve when Finn pivoted. Beckett shouted behind him, and Finn ignored it, lunging for Dom as the man went for Dallas. The knife flashed again—right there out in the open, right in Dom’s fucking hand—and that was proof enough.

Finn looped the chain between his cuffs over Dom’s head and jerked back, pulling him off his feet. He dangled there, thrashing and choking for a moment before shifting the knife in his hand and stabbing back blindly.

The blade sliced through Finn’s jacket, his shirt, but it didn’t slow him down. Finn pulled harder, satisfaction overwhelming the stinging pain—and everything else. “You’ll have to keep hell warm for me.”

There was shouting behind him, shouting in front of him, but Finn only tightened his grip until the cuffs dug into his wrists and the chain cut into Dom’s skin. Hot blood trickled down over his hands, and Dom’s thrashing stilled.

Finn let the body thump to the ground. The knife clattered to the road with him, the blade slick with Finn’s blood.

And all hell broke loose.

Scowling, Jas stepped forward and pulled his gun on Beckett. “You treacherous bastard!”

Across the way, the men from Five pulled their weapons, too—leaving Dallas and Finn in the line of fire.

Bren waved them back. “Get down!”

Dallas lunged for the cover of the car, and Finn started to follow. Then he saw Beckett scrambling toward the line of buildings, abandoning his men as quickly as Dallas rushed toward his own.

BOOK: Beyond Addiction
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