Beautifully Destroyed (Beautifully Broken) - Page 13

I grab two slices, then lean back against the single-seater. “Yeah. I’m done painting, and I got rid of the snot green tiles.”

Quinn pulls a disgusted face. “That’s good news.”

“What’s left?” Eli asks.

I go through the mental list I have. “The porch and shutters. I want to replace the cupboards in the kitchen and redo the tub and shower in the main bathroom.”

“It’s going to take a while,” Eli mentions. “Let me know if you need help.”

I shrug. “I like the work. It feels like I’m making the house mine.”

Eli nods. “Yeah, it’s a good feeling.”

We catch up with what’s happening at the hardware store and the gym, and when Quinn takes the pizza boxes and plates to the kitchen, I walk toward the guest toilet.

“Use the one upstairs,” Eli says. “I need to replace the valve and rod in that one.”

I head up the stairs, and as I turn into the hallway, I bump into Finlay. She staggers back, and I quickly grab hold of her shoulder to stop her from losing her balance.

She sucks in a strangled breath, her stormy eyes locked on my face while her skin pales.

Fuck.

“Sorry. You okay?” I ask, pulling my hand away from her shoulder.

She just stares at me, terror deepening on her features and taking a brutal swing at my heart. When she doesn’t take a breath, worry floods me, and I step backward to put more space between us, wondering if I should call Quinn.

“Finlay?” I ask, my tone soft, so I don’t scare her even more. “You okay?”

She blinks, her lips parting, and it looks like it’s taking a lot of effort for her to suck in a breath. Suddenly she turns around and darts back into the guest bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Well, fuck. That just happened.

Feeling confused as fuck, I head to the restroom, and when I’m done, I glance at Finlay’s closed door before taking the stairs to the first floor. Walking into the living room, I say, “I just scared the shit out of Finlay. You might want to check on her.” Quinn darts up, and when I’m alone with Eli, I add, “I’m going to head home.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

Before I give the girl a heart attack.

“Thanks for the pizza.” The weird feeling I had a week ago returns, settling in my gut. I glance up the stairs as I walk to the front door. “Tell Finlay I’m sorry for scaring her.”

“What happened?” Eli asks as he follows me out onto the porch.

“I bumped into her.”

Eli shakes his head. “And that scared her?”

I meet my brother’s eyes. “We’re not the friendliest looking.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest, looking like a grizzly bear.

“Anyway…” I gesture to the house, “tell her I’m sorry.”

Eli nods, his gaze following me as I walk to my truck. Before climbing inside, I say, “Have a good night.”

“Drive safe,” he replies.

As I steer the truck toward my place, I think how terrified Finlay looked, and my stomach sinks even deeper than it did this afternoon.

I let out a breath, glancing at the houses and oak trees lining the streets.

Finlay’s reaction to me can’t just be because she’s an introvert? Right? I wish I had an opportunity to see how she behaves around Eli because skittish is the understatement of the fucking year when it comes to her.

There was no mistaking her reaction. She was terrified of me, and nothing about the interaction sits right with me. It makes me feel edgy and… weird.

It feels like I’m missing something important, and I hate that I can’t place my finger on it.

Letting out another sigh, I park my truck and head inside my house so I can get to work and forget about scaring the living shit out of Quinn’s cousin.

Chapter 6

FINLAY

I haven’t seen Ethan since we bumped into each other, and I feel awful for how I reacted.

All I registered was a man, and I just freaked out. It took all my strength to pretend everything was fine when Quinn came to check on me. I explained I was half asleep and just had a fright. Luckily Quinn fell for the excuse.

God, it’s hard.

I now get flashbacks of that night. I’ll suddenly smell the disinfectant or hear his breathing. I’ll feel the mask pressing against my cheek. The worst, though, is when I feel him inside me.

The trauma’s driving me deeper into the darkness wrapping around me.

I can’t keep up pretenses for much longer. I need privacy where I can break down and rally my emotions before having to interact with people.

After getting a coffee from the diner, Quinn and I head up the beach, looking at the houses. The past couple of days, I’ve been helping at the bakery. It gives me something to do, but it’s not enough to keep my mind from reeling around the attack.

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