The Finish Line (The Ravenhood, #3)

by Kate Stewart

but sexual frustration will not be what breaks me. It will not be what has me giving in.

As of late, we give almost as much as we take to keep our consciences clean and our hands heavy with loyalty.

Money has always been an obstacle for me, a necessary means of getting from point A to point B. And while some men let it drive them, let the abundance or lack of it corrupt or destroy them, I refuse to become a slave to it. Instead, I’ll obtain enough of it to wield its power, its sway, to open avenues and help level the playing field for men like me and my brothers, our parents, and whomever else’s fate rests in the hands of men like Roman Horner.

Whether it be drink or a woman, or any other threatening vice, I’m determined to abstain. I refuse to let any personal or frivolous need weaken me.

Clipping wings isn’t something I threaten often, especially when they’ve earned their ink, but this is a major fuckup, and one inked men should never make.

Once again, a decision has been made for me due to uncontrollable circumstances.

I don’t know if it’s protection or paranoia that has him acting like a caged lion, but I can only assume it’s a mixture of both. It’s evident he worries more than he sleeps.

It’s his love for his brothers, his dedication to his cause that drains my iron will, day by day.

“I didn’t think it was possible to miss you more than I did before I got here, but I do. And I want to fuck you so bad.” The ache in that declaration and his tone is comical, but the sentiment hits hard.

“I want to give you a better story. I just wish I could give you a better man. My brother was the better man.”

Though we’ve just scratched the surface of our issues, the truth is, we were cut short, our unwritten pages ripped from us before we even had a chance to live them out.

She covers my mouth with her hand. “You apologized a lot. Yelled a lot. Revealed a lot. And unloaded a lot of that baggage.

She seems to be prepping for war when all I’m trying to do is make peace. I’m tempted to pull her ass aside and redden it before I lick it or simultaneously do both.

It’s crazy that somehow, despite what you took away, both you and Roman gifted me the only person in the world capable of loving me in a way that fills me with so much peace. Cecelia is my home and my reason for trying to forgive myself, and she needs to be your reason too.

But I’m not sorry I did it. I’m only sorry you suffered.”

I don’t really believe words can heal as much as they hurt. But I so want to believe it’s not too late for us—that truly living again without that jagged ache is possible.

I step forward and invade her space, eager for this fight. Because she’s fighting her emotions now, and they’re winning, and to me, that’s more important than the why of it.

“I’ve got plans for later.” “Oh, yeah? Did you schedule your first smile?”

Dom chuckles next to me, and I glance over at him, noting the rare smile on his face. At twenty-two, his future is so much brighter than mine, his worries fewer these days, making all of my efforts worth it.

It was all worth it, just to see him thrive.

The sad truth is, I can’t really identify with their reality most of the time.

This isn’t fucking or making love. It’s the reunification of two souls ripped apart at the peak of discovery.

We’ve wasted ourselves with our greed while attempting to heal each other with our bodies, lips, and needy hands.

“Is it weird that people sit in bathtubs full of filth, thinking it makes them clean? I can see scum floating on the top of this water.” “No, you French prude, but baths are good for a woman who was just bent like a pretzel and jackhammered until she nearly passed out. And don’t knock my housekeeping skills.”

As I unscrewed the cap to the bottle just an hour earlier, I had to admit to myself that she was the face of innocence I’ve been protecting.

Because it seems all I’ve been living for here is a lie.”

A true to life Helen of Troy capable of breaking apart the kingdom I built with my bare hands.

Life, as I knew it, was over the second I laid eyes on her. All former versions of me were erased when I exchanged hate for love.

Loving her has ruined me, wounded me beyond comprehension.

Thoroughly punished and confused by how I could feel so fucking little about taking a life but so torn apart for needing you.

Trust you, right? Trust you. How can you ask me for what you won’t give?”

So, for now, even with our truce in place, even as we draw closer than ever before, we remain in an unspoken stalemate. I’ll keep him just a breath away from where he so desperately wants to be from fully regaining my trust.

But now the moon rises in my favor. Now I can reach out and touch her, and I don’t need morphine or disillusion. She’s with me, in my arms, every fucking night. It’s no longer a dream. It’s our reality.

Control is what I need in order to function, in order to protect her, to keep my sanity.

My heart may have decided, but my mind is in fucking shambles. I’m utterly torn and have no idea which way to move.

You always did love the taste of the tears you cause.”

My relationship with my brother is never one I would ever have put into question a year ago. It’s the one place I had peace, solidarity, consistency, and I’ve ruined it with my actions.

Maybe Dom and Sean became the more desired versions of themselves with her. We all have sacrificed in some way for this life.

In seconds, my hurt shifts, and I’m grieving for the boy that he was and the man he’s become and meant to me.

As strong as she’s become, I managed to scare her in an unforgivable way by being too immersed in my own shit.

He died in love with you.

“He loved you just as fiercely and unconditionally as you did him. He was angry but just as protective of you and your happiness, and that’s why he saved you.”

From the little girl with mischievous eyes to a woman with nothing but fire in her heart—she stole me first, and that’s the truest truth of this thief’s heart.

“Sometimes, I wish I could be as selfish with you now as I was before.”

“I’m glad that you loved him, and I’m glad he knew what it felt like to be loved by you before he died, and it’s because of the way you love, Cecelia.”

He’s not ready. Even after all this time. It’s been years since Delphine died, and he wants no part in trying to move on yet. Sadly, I understand it, because I felt the same. He lost the only woman he considered his true love and not by choice, not due to selfishness, fear, or any other idiotic reason that keeps people apart.

“You’ve worked your whole lives—” “To change the rules,” Tobias states. “And we are.”

“But that’s what makes us special,” she continues. “This isn’t just a courtship of boy meets girl. They fall in love, yadda, yadda. This is a lifelong commitment to men who aren’t satisfied living ordinary lives. It sometimes seems more of an obsession than a mission. One that can test a woman to her absolute limits.”

And as long as she’s staring at me the way she is, I consider myself both validated and recognized.”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t like about America—greed. This country was stolen and established by materialistic men.