The Finish Line (The Ravenhood, #3)

by Kate Stewart

It’s ironic and cruel how the mind works, mine especially. Some memories I re-live regularly but would do anything to forget, the details so vivid, so ingrained, it can be torturous. While others, the memories I hold most dear, at times evade me.

It was sickness that claimed him and the fear of inherited sickness that’s plagued me for so long.

loss so painful, there won’t ever be a day it won’t hurt. My brother. Her savior. An irreversible scar that will never fully heal, and proof of my weary travels. I’m halfway to the top of the cliff when my phone rattles in my pocket.

Twelve years ago, I forced her out of my life. In doing so, I lost myself, my purpose, my meaning, and my fucking mind.

Earning her and her heart has been my greatest accomplishment, making it my most prized possession. A treasure any worthy thief will try to steal.

I was selfish then, as I am now with her, without much apology, because the need outweighs the guilt—mostly.

In a sense, I’ve been waiting . . . but as of this moment, it’s over.

I may have gotten my foot in the door, but she’s still got her hand on the knob, ready to slam it with me on the other side if I fuck up. And I’m off to an amazing start.

It’s as if she’s carefully designed every room in this house both as sanctuary and proof of her evolution.

I might be here, with her, but not in the way I want to be. Patience is crucial in winning her back, but it’s also my Achilles’ heel.

Trying to reason with love is fucking pointless. It doesn’t care about your reasons, right or wrong. Love has no regard for circumstance, nor does it give a fuck what state it puts you in. It’s a relentless and unforgiving emotion that will never let you lie to yourself.

After what went down, after all you went through, I had to allow you the chance at a normal life, to escape this one.”

I live here. Where you are is home.

“You’re just a kid.” “Plus adulte que toi.” More of a grown-up than you anyway.

“Then I’ll read books,” he says, “lots of books. And I’m going to get stronger. And smart, and then nobody can be mean to me ever again.”

Her to-do list makes that theory shit, but she won’t be fucking to-doing Greg. Not to-fucking-ever.

I claimed her then as mine to have, mine to touch, mine to possess, fucking mine

Getting her to both listen and believe my truths will be a new sport.

It’s the ache of wanting her. It’s the need to erase the distance, not just physically but emotionally.

In appearance, I still see some of her lingering youth, her curiosity for the world around her. She’s forever a student, and I find that appealing.

I want so much just to be happy, accept him here, and throw myself into the notion that this is permanent, but flashes of the past haunt me. From my experience, the minute I accept love, accept happiness, it gets snatched away from me in life-altering ways.

There’s no need to act like a dick, even if you’re thinking with it.”

At eleven, he’s twice as smart as I was and three times as hard to handle.

“Don’t disrespect women, period. They’re twice as evolved as most men will ever be. Don’t take your shit out on them, either. It’s a sign of weakness, and they aren’t punching bags. They’re a sanctuary, and you need to figure that out quick.”

My spot has always been the one place I find a little solace, where my chaotic thoughts and panic morph into something more definable.

Don’t let my brother suffer because of your prejudice,” I warn her. “He’s suffered enough.”

My aunt is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen but has been tarnished by a life that’s stolen most of the good left in her.

firm. But treat him well. He’s immune to you now. Things won’t change overnight, but if you remain the same, he’ll fall in line. Do this, and you will have earned my trust.

As much as I’m disgusted by some of her behavior, I have some admiration for the way she conducts herself; unshakable in her beliefs, hardcore in her delivery.

I can’t promise her nothing bad will happen or that no monsters are lurking in the shadows, because there are. I can only try to protect her from them and from the damage the dormant monster inside of me can cause her.

She bristles when I walk over to where she stands, angry, emotionally confused, tormented

by a past I can’t change and mistakes I can’t erase.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take, or what words to say, or what moves to make. I hav...

Time. My goddamn enemy, an invisible force I’ve never been able to defeat.

Even when you do your best to mask poverty, it can be painfully obvious.

It’s both humbling and humiliating how much I presume to know and how much I’m reminded daily of just how much I have to learn. Spending time with guys like Preston reiterates that for me, which at times can be infuriating. Knowledge is power and key, but so is experience.

I’m not obsessed with money, I know the evils of it, but more than once tonight, I’ve been slapped by the reality of my standing due to lack of it.

I don’t know anything. No one here does. And no one will tell you anything, either. But what I do know is that if you ask, if you even so much as arouse suspicion, you’ll disappear or wish you had.

“The way I see it, there are bad men capable of doing bad things, and then there are good men capable of doing bad things for good fucking reasons.” He looks at me pointedly. “You’re one of those.”

a time where we freed ourselves to openly love each other without uttering the words.

Tobias doesn’t hurt. He murders hurt; he makes hurt seem like a trip on a merry-go-round, and I got off his ride eight months ago.

My momma always said, ‘Don’t ever count on a man to realize his wrongs on your emotional timeline ’cause men always take way longer to come around and deal with their feelings. They’re emotionally stunted.’”

“Small talk

is stupid, don’t you think? Especially when you need to have big conversations.”

My heart lurches after him, but my mind refuses to allow me to move. For the first time since he arrived, a thought occurs to me . . . What if I’m incapable of forgiving him?

“Why have you played fucking ignorant this whole time?” His firelit face remains impassive. “I find it helps to be in the know, without anyone else knowing.”

Will we all die out this way? At the hands of powerful men who decide our fates—or can we become the same type of men, change our fate, flip the script?

Mother, greet me. Father, keep me.

I’m not in denial so much that I don’t realize that I’m the one preventing our progress.

The irony strikes me that as much as I’ve compared my moves in my time in France to this game, I only know the basics, the essence of it, the central goal.