The Finish Line (The Ravenhood, #3)

by Kate Stewart

“You’ve always been mine. I’ve had protective eyes on you since you were eleven years old, Cecelia, no matter how I felt about you. Maybe I deserved the hell those weeks were not knowing, but there will never be a time in your life you’re not under my protection. I failed you once, and I’ll do everything in my fucking power not to fail you again. Believe me, by the time I arrived yesterday, I made every effort to make sure you had no one but me coming for you.”

I feel sorry for her, this sad pregnant woman, who’s so lonely she needed to shop with me to make herself feel better.

“You’re a good kid. You deserve—” her eyes drift to the house—“you deserve a lot better than bad days.”

“Sean! You’re the culprit!”

“The first time I saw her, she was eleven.” They both turn to me, but I continue typing, not sparing a glance at either one of them. “She was nothing but a little girl, but she was mine to protect from this fucked-up world. Mine to look out for. Mine to care for.”

“She came in later like a fucking wrecking ball and obliterated the image of the little girl I remembered. I claimed her then as mine to have, mine to touch, mine to possess, fucking mine.”

“And so, I would very much appreciate it if you would stop fucking looking at my future as if she may be yours. The answer is no, Greg, she won’t be dining with you.”

You hurt, I hurt. Look at me.

I will do everything, anything, to make our ending blissful.

Bubbles. I decide I hate bubbles as much as I hate peas.

“When you love someone, it’s never a question you have to ask yourself.”

“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.”

“Dis-moi contre qui me battre, et je me battrai jusqu’à ce qu’ils disparaissent.” Tell me who to fight. I will fight until they all go away.

“Dis-moi comment réparer cela. Dis-moi, mon amour. Je ferai n’importe quoi.” Tell me how to fix this. Tell me, my love. I’ll do anything.

“Ce n’est qu’un rêve, Trésor. Je suis là. Je suis là.” Just a dream, treasure. I’m here. I’m here.

Time. My goddamn enemy, an invisible force I’ve never been able to defeat. Seconds to save my brother, now years between me and the woman I love, all due to my judgments, my mistakes. And it’s time that rears its ugly head at me now, mocking me, the main reason for the barrier between us. She’s lived so much life without me.

She named her café after the lead character of The Thorn Birds, the story closest to her heart. Her thieving this book from the Triple Falls Library is one of the reasons we exist. It’s obvious she compares herself to Meggie and our own story to the one inside the pages. I’ll memorize the fucking thing if it means so much to her.

His ink is there—though it’s invisible—and he’s one of the founding fathers of the brotherhood, now sitting in the most powerful seat in the world.

“Je n’aime pas me réveiller sans toi. Je préférerais de loin me réveiller en toi.” I don’t like waking up without you. I would much rather wake up inside you.

“Tu as l’air un peu stressée. Je peux t’aider à te détendre. Avec ma langue, et ta chatte.” You’re looking a little stressed. I can help you relax. With my tongue, and your pussy.

“Tu m’as manqué, Mon Trésor.” I’ve missed you, my treasure.

“And you’re a millionaire, not a waitress. What the hell does that matter? I’m whatever you need me to be.”

Mother, greet me. Father, keep me.

“If we do this, really do this, you need to know, if they ever get to you, the most valuable thing in my fucking life, it’s game over for me, Cecelia. End of. I can barely handle dealing with the possibility of losing you. I’ve only survived this long without Dominic, and losing you, and Sean, my respect, my purpose, I just stopped fucking caring about everything that mattered to me personally. I became someone I didn’t recognize, and there was no one there to stop me from . .

“If they get to you now,” I grit out, “they take everything. So, this meeting is more than necessary. But all of this can stop right here, right now. I can’t walk away from you again, I can’t push you away again, and I never will, but you can order me away. If that’s your decision, I’ll respect it, because Cecelia, there’s a very real chance you could die for loving me, and I can only promise to try to keep you safe.”

“This isn’t you, either. This is the life of the Cecelia Horner—who you might have been—before you knew what true living meant for you. You aren’t exactly living the standard of the woman who ran a board meeting with spiked fucking heels eight months ago and spent her spare time taking down adversaries of her choosing.”

“You’re calling me a hypocrite?”

“Yes. I saw you. I saw the victory in your eyes when you cornered your prey. I’m not faulting you for the life you’ve chosen to live, but it’s not exac...

“I know who...

“Do you? Because the woman who left me eight months ago was far more fucking daring than...

The look in his eyes is one of an old soul, not a kid inching toward sixteen.

She’s chosen her personal armor in the way of fucking flannel pajamas.

She’s a prism of beauty, glowing in residue as I flip her, caressing the wings on her back with my fingers. For the first time since I marked her, I can fully appreciate them for what they represent.

“Faite pour moi.” Made for me.

“I’m expecting huge fucking dividends on my investment, Mr. King, a big payoff. You break my trust, my fucking heart again, and I’ll put a bullet in you my damn self. I’m still angry. I’m still trying to get used to the idea of you being here. All is not well with us, yet, but facts are facts, and the facts are, we’re in this together, no matter what. There’s a lot that hasn’t changed and never will. And sadly, I do love you, too.”

“Brothers first,”

“Always brothers,”

“Ne me fais pas te courir après. Tu ne vas pas aimer quand je te rattraperai.” Don’t make me chase you. You won’t like it when I catch up.

“I never brought a woman into this for a fucking reason. First, it was too much to ask of any woman long-term. Period. And this, what’s happening between us, the resentment you feel for me now is why. That’s one of the reasons I punished them so harshly for dragging you into this.”

“What do I know about relationships?” He slings the word with disgust. “That I tried most of my fucking life to avoid them? I know how to treat a woman, that’s . . . common sense, how to fuck them, but I never allowed myself to have anything real for any woman . . . until you.”

“Instinctually, I always knew . . . that if I let myself get lost in a woman, how fucking detrimental it would be for all involved, and I was right. I was fucking right.” His grip on my thigh tightens. “And then I lost you.”

“I’m existing here, but we can make a life here if that’s what you want. I’ll give you whatever you want. Dream with me again, Cecelia. Dream a thousand more dreams with me, and I will make them all come true. I can give you promises. Promises I couldn’t before.”

“How different would this have all turned out if I would have just fucking listened to them?” His voice is tattered when he speaks. “You have to think about that. I know you do. About the future you would have had with one or both of them if I wasn’t in the way. It kills me that you might still think about that. Dream about it. I can’t . . . this feeling, Jesus Christ, this jealousy I still feel at times. It eats at me. I saw how you loved them, and I still did it, I did it. I forged my way in, purposefully, as the man in your life because that’s how much I wanted you. Brothers be damned, everyone be damned. And you know what that did? It damned everyone, including us.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t want your forgiveness. Maybe I need you to continue to punish me. Because I don’t deserve the pardon, Cecelia. It’s fucking wrong that I get you, while my brother rots in the ground.”

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

“I know that, Cecelia, but there are no magic words. There are no gestures grand enough or deeds good enough to make up for what I’ve done to him, to you, to Sean. I couldn’t figure out how to work my way around it then to get back to you, and I can’t figure it out now. So, maybe I need you to keep punishing me,” he chokes out. “Maybe it’s the only way I’ll be able to live with myself. I’ll endure it every day for the rest of my fucking life just to be with you. I’ll do anything,” he chokes again, “and we can joke about this situation, but this is truly hell for me. I love you, Cecelia, but it fucking hurts.”

You’re so fucked. Pack a bag for your ass and kiss it goodbye.

“If you so much as stick a toe in those goddamn pants, you’re declaring war, and all bets are off!” She shoves a leg in as my patience snaps. “Merde. Bon sang, femme. Tu me testes au-delà de mes limites!” Fuck. Goddamn it, woman. You are testing me past my limits.

I haven’t spoken a word to my brother since he died. Every day I wonder if he waits for word from me. And even with the guilt that he might be waiting, I can’t find the words. I don’t know if I ever will.

“Trésor, I want to Halloweenie with you and Thanksgiving with you, and Christmas with you, but—”