C H A P T E R - T W E N T Y - F I V E
My eyes opened and slipped up as I felt a weight hit the bed.
Finn sat there, dressed in a skintight top and faded pants. His hair was dripping wet from a shower. His blue gaze was fixed on me.
I was laying in his bed at a fairly good house in the foothills outside Manila, not at the Mayhem Compound. It was constructed just up the mountain. It was one story tall and had a deck that stretched the length of the front of the house. I knew it would be beautiful in the daytime, but I wasn't paying attention because I was numb, fatigued, and desperately fighting back hysterical sobs, a tantrum, and the want to murder.
"Sleep, darlin'," Finn said as he walked me to his bedroom, dumping my handbag on his nightstand.
He then walked away.
I removed my boots, socks, and jeans, and since I was wearing my nightshirt, I hopped into his unmade bed and did precisely what he said.