Finally Finn (Los Rancheros #4) Read online

  “Yeah? Is it because of Batalicious out there?” she says with a smile.

  “What do you know about the Batman?” I ask cautiously.

  “Nothing. I haven’t been able to put that piece of the puzzle where it should go. Why don’t you give a dying girl a bone, huh?”

  I smirk. “You’re slick, kid, pulling that card.” I lick my lips and sit back in my chair to consider her. “He’s the creator of the show. Finnigan Brennick.” I say it because it won’t hurt anything, not now. She’s not long for this world, as much as it pains me to think. And what we do here is far from anything that we should be ashamed of.

  “Oh,” she groans. “What I wouldn’t give to see him in person without the mask for a second. I bet he’s even hotter in person.”

  “You’ve seen pictures, then?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” She shrugs weakly. “He’s on the cover of every magazine and getting a lot of play on the entertainment shows right now because of the show. Where is he, anyway?”

  “He’s with his nieces. The twins.”

  “Huh. Guess that’s a major secret, then.”

  “Sure is.”

  She pretends to lock her lips. “I won’t say anything. Well, except for my mom. It might make her smile.” Her eyes drift from me and her lips twitch in a phantom smile as she imagines it.

  “Yeah, you can tell your mom,” I say. She looks back at me.

  “So you gonna tell me what’s going on with that?” she asks suggestively.

  “No,” I say with a laugh. “I took care of the kids while his dad recovered from surgery. We’re together.”

  “Do you call him Batty like you do here, or Finn?” she asks through a yawn. I look at her sharply.

  “He’s had issues with that, I guess. I called him Batty before the kids, but they call him Finn so I do too.”

  “And he doesn’t like it.” I shake my head.

  “Well, that’s understandable.”

  “How?” I ask, irritated.

  “You met him here, right?” I nod. “And knowing you, you slept with him as Batty. He feels closer to you that way.”

  “Thanks a lot for that.” I purse my lips in irritation, but my mind is on what else she said. Could that be why he has a problem with Finn? My mind goes over his anger over Aiden being at the house and I can see where that would be possible. But I told the man that I loved him. Shouldn’t he know there’s nothing there?

  “You know I’m right,” she says smugly.

  “Maybe,” I concede. Mara twitches her fingers and it brings my eyes to her skeletal figure, and I find myself asking the question I wish I never had to ask again.

  “If you could have anything in this world, do anything, what would it be?” I hold my breath.

  “Besides eighty more years?” she asks dryly.

  I nod, unable to say anything as my throat aches. Mara looks to the ceiling and rocks her head from side to side.

  “I would love to go to prom.”

  “Prom?”

  She shrugs self-consciously. “Yeah, well, ya know. I’ll never get to drive a car, or have a wedding. I’ll never get to have sex.” She finishes trying to shock me, I know, but I just give her a flat look.

  “So prom. You need a date. Who would you choose if you could pick?”

  “Anyone?”

  “Yup,” I answer, fully prepared to drag Jamie Dornan in here if that’s who she chooses.

  To my shock, she turns shy. Her cheeks fill with color and she meets my eyes fleetingly.

  “Who is it?”

  “There is one guy, but I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to do it. I know what you do for the kids that don’t have that long left.”

  “Tell me.”

  She licks her dry lips and finally meets my eyes. “That guy on your show.” My mind automatically goes to Danny and I relax. Thank Jesus. It’s as good as done. “He just had a quick video on your show. I saw online that he got picked to be in the top twenty. There’s videos from the concert in New York online.”

  Fuck. Fucking shit, little prick. I roll my lips in and bite them to keep it in. I don’t want that little man whore anywhere near my Mara. I sniff in frustration and nod. “Okay.”

  Mara’s eyes get big. “Okay?” she asks incredulously.

  I nod firmly. “Yeah. You gonna be here next week?”

  “Holy shit. For real?”

  “Don’t cuss,” I say absently. “So you gonna be here?”

  “Hell yes!”

  I look behind me to the closed door. “I’m serious, don’t cuss. So what color do you want?” I ask, changing the subject entirely. Mara’s smile is worth everything I’m going to have to put up with with that punk kid.

  “Black. With the sparkles.”

  ~

  “Hey, Mom. Is it too late for me to call?” I ask, sitting on the deck of my beach house. The kids are in bed, and Batty is doing . . . whatever. I don’t know.

  “Am I dead yet? No. It’s not too late. I just got back from pinochle.”

  “Well, that sounds . . . fun,” I finish lamely.

  “Shut up, we’re old. It’s not all keggers and getting high at the fogies home, kid.”

  “Fogies. There’s a word you don’t hear every day,” I say with a smile.

  “It’s all the rage. You should try to say it once a day to work it in.”

  I laugh in surprise. Who is this woman and what has she done with my mother? “I will.”

  “So listen, is there a reason why you called?”

  “I just wanted to check in. Make sure everything was going okay there. How are you liking it?”

  She sighs and I get concerned. “Well, it was great for about two weeks, but then he started showing up again.”

  “He? Who is he? Brian?” I ask in alarm.

  “Oh no, child. He’s still a regular, I mean the other one,” she says, sounding upset.

  “Who? I don’t know another guy that would come see you. Who is it?” I shake my head and stand up to pace. Who is seeing my parents in Mexico?

  “He’s the son of that woman. I don’t want him here, Sadie. It was bad enough that we had to put up with her for years. He needs to leave us alone. Your father doesn’t remember him anymore than he does you.”

  “What’s his name?” I yell. I only know one woman who my mother would refer to as that woman: Farrah. But she doesn’t have a son. Does she?

  “Jack,” she spits out and my body breaks out in goose bumps. Finn steps out onto the deck, reaching for me when I sway.

  “Baby? What’s wrong? Who are you talking to?”

  “My mom,” I whisper.

  “Mom,” I say into the phone.

  “Yes, Sadie.”

  “I’ll fix it. He won’t bother you anymore. I promise.”

  “That’s fine, dear. I’m off to bed.” She hangs up and I lower the phone.

  “What happened?” Finn asks, his hands on my shoulders.

  “I know who Jacque is.”

  ~

  We table the problem to deal with in the morning, but it’s too late. Both of our phones are ringing off the hook before the sun comes up. Fucking reporters on my end, lawyers on Finn’s. There are people outside of my gate.

  I make coffee in the kitchen as Batty pulls all of the blinds in my house. “Pull up the TZI website,” Batty calls from the front door.

  I hush him since the kids are still sleeping. “I am,” I call back quietly.

  When I pull it up, my gasp has Finn running. There’s a black square that allow the pictures to be suitable for mainstream, but it’s all damning. Our texts, pictures included, and one of us taken from outside of my dressing room are there for everyone to see.

  “That son of a bitch. He’s dead.” He takes the words straight from my head.

  “I can’t believe he would—”

  “Really? You can’t believe? Because I can. That little prick had access to every password you have, and you handed it over.” Finn explodes.

  I sp
in around. “This isn’t my fault.”

  “Oh yes, it is, Sadie. Someone just shows up at your house after everything your brother and sister did and you blindly take their word on it?” He waves his hands around wildly.

  I cast around for something to justify myself, but I just feel stupid. “I didn’t know . . .”

  “No. You never do. Why don’t you open your fucking eyes.”

  “Hey! You don’t talk to me like that, asshole.” I point my finger in his face and he raises a hand to pull it down when a voice interrupts the action.

  “Aunt Sadie? Uncle Finn? Why are you mad?” Bridgette asks, her voice shaking. I turn immediately and pull her along with me into the living room. Finn paces the kitchen with his hands in his hair.

  “Let’s watch cartoons, okay? We’re not mad.” I turn on the TV and it automatically shows the last channel watched, which looks to be the news Finn was watching the night before. They’re playing the video from the school when I went after Brian and Patricia with a bat. I turn the channel quickly with shaking hands.

  “Are you mad at those people? Is that why you’re yelling?” Bridgette asks. I shake my head automatically then pause.

  “They are bad people. But we’re just worried about you. We want you to be happy,” I answer lamely. What do you tell kids when they’re about to be hounded by cameras and have no idea why? “Let me talk to Uncle Finn while you watch Oomie Zoomie, okay?”

  Her little face scrunches up. “But that’s a baby show.”

  “I don’t care. Sit down.” Hannah stirs and I tell her to watch too, then head for the kitchen.

  “Listen, Finn—”

  “I’m taking the kids back to the house,” he interrupts me.

  “Okay, I’ll get my stuff and—”

  “No. I’m taking them. You should stay here,” Finn says firmly.

  “What?” I ask faintly.

  He takes the stairs two at a time and I follow behind him in a daze, only to see him shoving clothes into a bag. “You need to handle your shit, Sadie. I fixed your first mistake. This is affecting the people I’ve kept away from the media for over six years. They have to get away from this.”

  “Away from me, you mean?” I clarify.

  He stops and looks at me with the bag in his hand, then pulls the strap over his shoulder and heads for the door without a word.

  “That’s what you mean, right? They need to get away from me?” I chase after him.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he stops, and I skid to a stop two steps above him. His eyes roam my face like he’s memorizing it, like he won’t ever see it again. “Batty?” I whisper.

  His face spasms in pain and he moves to get the kids. I watch from the stairs as he pulls them out the door in their pajamas.

  With the click of the door, my world ends.

  Chapter 17

  WEDNESDAY

  It’s been two days since I’ve seen Finn or the kids. The media is camped out at my door, all major networks are picking up the story on TV, and I’m a prisoner in my house. The quiet that was once soothing is too loud. The quiet echoes like a gong in my head. There’s no mess to clean, no one to stop from getting into mischief. No one.

  The first thing I did was call the lawyers at Finn’s office and ask their advice. Then I changed every password I ever had, on everything. Social media, online banking and alarm systems.

  Then I pace, up and back, from front door to back. With nothing to do, I call Porter and tell him to get his ass on a plane Sunday morning. He’s too excited to ask questions so I don’t give any answers. I don’t care why he thinks he’s coming.

  I have to get out. I grab my keys, a fedora, and sunglasses then head for my car. My Mercedes. It feels strange to pull the wing doors up, instead of out like the Charger. Even the sound of the engine seems wrong now.

  I drive all over, losing the paparazzi, and have no clue where I’m going until hours later I find myself ten minutes from my house, outside of a tattoo parlor.

  I get out in a daze, and stumble into the front door and lean heavily on the receptionist’s desk.

  “Can I help you?” a young girl with pink hair asks.

  “Is Ali here?” I ask hesitantly.

  “She’s in the back. Do you have an appointment?” she asks politely. I shake my head.

  “No. Can you get her for me? Tell her it’s Sadie, please?”

  “Sure,” she says slowly, moving in between short walls where people are getting ink. My eyes take in all of the people for the first time. The place is packed. I pull my hat down lower.

  Ali practically runs down the stairs in the most revealing outfit I’ve seen her in. She’s showing as much skin as I used to. She runs straight into me and wraps her arms around me.

  “Oh my God, girl. I cannot believe what’s happening. Are you okay?” she asks, already pulling me to the back.

  “I don’t know. Finn . . . I haven’t heard . . . he took the kids . . .” I can’t finish a thought. She gets the gist and pulls me into a back office with lighted tables along the walls.

  “He took the kids and left you to deal with this? That asshole,” she yells with a slam of the door.

  I shake my head. “It’s my fault—” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Oh, bullshit. It’s not your fault alone. He sent texts back. From what I saw they were just as revealing.”

  “Yeah, but Jacque was my employee and I didn’t do any background checks or anything.”

  “You’re twenty-two and have had people doing things for you your whole life. How were you supposed to know? No one taught you any different,” she protests.

  I sink onto a stool and gasp out, “ I feel like such a fool.”

  She sighs and pulls a stool next to me, putting her hand on my knee. “You’re just young, honey.” She quietly studies me. “You still love him?”

  My eyes shoot up to hers and the tears fall, finally. “How do you know I love him?”

  She wraps her arms around me as I collapse. “Oh, honey. A blind man could see that.” Ali rubs my back as I sob, not only for the loss of Finn, but Batty and the twins, and Patrick and Aiden. I didn’t just lose Finn, but a whole family.

  When I cry myself out, I try to wipe the damp spot away from Ali’s shirt. “Sorry. I think I know why he got the angel now. It’s an insane amount of pain to deal with.”

  “If it’s worth anything, I don’t think you’ve lost him,” Ali offers, but I immediately shake my head.

  “No. Those kids mean everything to him. I made them vulnerable. He’ll never get over that.”

  “You know, I was watching the footage, and it didn’t look that bad. I mean the sexting was less than ideal, but the other stuff looked like a sexy man in a relationship with a hot woman that was protective over his kids. That picture in the dressing room with you bent over his arm as he kissed your chest, holy Jesus. That was some hot shit, girlfriend. I would own that if it happened to Dek and me.”

  “You’re married. He’s essentially my boss. It’s completely different,” I argue.

  “So what do you want to do?”

  I look up into her pretty eyes and sniff. “There’s only one thing I can think of to do when your heart gets ripped out of your chest.”

  ~

  SUNDAY

  After watching the concert show air, and seeing how great it all came out, I couldn’t get Ali’s words out of my head. I played back the other show episodes over and over and couldn’t find fault with my performances at all. There was nothing to be ashamed of there.

  Finn and I are consensual adults and I begin to see that side of it. Not that it was anything bad that we did, we just got caught. But someone invaded our privacy and they should be punished for that.

  To say I was in no mood for Porter was an understatement. I picked him up from the airport myself and made no attempt to lose the crowd of vultures at LAX. We went straight to the hospital and were only left alone when we left them behind at the oncology unit entrance.
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  “Stay here and be nice. If I find out you were anything less than an angel, I’ll tank any career you may have had, kid.” He eyes me, and I grab the front of his shirt. “No shit. You’ll be working at a casino singing Elvis before you get a contract if you mess this up.”

  “Okay,” he says meekly. “Yeah, okay.”

  I push a zippered garment bag into his chest. “Change into this in exactly thirty minutes. Don’t fuck with me, kid.”

  I leave him in the common room and refuse to let my eyes search for the man I want to be there. I drop off a box at the nurses’ desk and move to Mara’s room.

  “Hey, beautiful!” I enter the room and my heart sinks. This thirteen-year-old girl has shrunken even more since last week. She’s a wisp of herself and the bed seems to swallow her up. I smile through my tears and see her roll her eyes over the oxygen mask on her face.

  “Shut up.” The words are muffled but I’m kind of an expert by now.

  “I will not.” I drape the bag down onto the foot of the bed and her eyes track it, so I slowly unzip the protective covering and pull out a princess dress that practically explodes out of the bag. It’s got a fitted silk bodice and empire waist that gives way to a tulle bell skirt done in black with glitter over the whole thing.

  Mara’s mom can’t contain her sobs and I get tackled from the side and she squeezes until my bones creak.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says over and over and I hug her just as tight, knowing that she knows what this means and is equal parts heartbroken and grateful.

  “Mara, we’ve got to get you out of that bed, girlfriend.” I wave a nurse forward and she starts unhooking tubes and wires as I set my especially heavy purse down and pull out makeup and wigs.

  “I didn’t know if you wanted to go blonde, red, or black, so I brought everything.” I dig some more, but when I don’t get a response I look up to see tears pouring down her cheeks.

  “Mara? What’s wrong?” I move to her side and pull her against me gently.

  “You really did it?” she asks softly. “He’s here?”

  “Of course he is, you crazy girl! We came straight from the airport. Do you want someone different? I’ll send his ass packing in a heartbeat.” I really mean that.