Fighting Redemption(75)

Love always,

Fin.



Pressing his lips together, Ryan hit delete on the email and started the process of logging out and shutting the computer down.

I need to talk to you …

The soft whir of the computer wound down until silence filled the room, and still he sat there staring at the screen.

Ring me when you can.

Getting to his feet, Ryan strode determinedly towards the door and swung it open.

Please …

Pausing with his hand on the door, he turned and looked at the phone. Who was he kidding? Fin would never have emailed him—not after he stormed out, got drunk, disappeared, and showed up the next day to tell her it was over—unless it was important. Christ, did he really do that? What a f*cking *.

Moving back into the room, Ryan picked up the phone and began dialling.





Buried under the sheets, dawn fighting its way inside the bedroom, Fin growled irritably after another night of rough sleep. She hated, hated, sleeping on her back, but she was stuck with it like some beached whale. Jake would’ve got a great laugh out of this, no doubt suggesting a rescue from Greenpeace to push her into safe waters or something. Her baby was going to miss out on having the best uncle a kid could ask for.

Realising there would be no more sleep for her this morning, she reached for her phone off the bedside table, intent on turning off the alarm before it began shrieking. Grasping it with an awkwardness that would have been embarrassing if anyone was watching, her fingers shook at seeing the missed call just after three in the morning from a blocked number. She quickly checked her messages but there were none. Had it been Ryan? What if he was hurt? Without care at the early hour, she called up her list of contacts and dialled.

Kyle answered sleepily with an “am I being ditched for a better offer already?”

“No!” Fin rolled to her side and grabbing the mattress, pulled herself to an awkward sitting position, a groan slipping out in the process. The baby performed a lazy roll, obviously annoyed at Fin’s rearrangement. Fin rubbed her tummy soothingly and sucked in a sharp breath after getting booted for the gesture.

“Holy shit!” Kyle suddenly sounded wide awake. “Are you in labour? Shouldn’t you be ringing your labour buddy? Who the f*ck is your labour buddy anyway? Christ, it’s not me, is it? Because if it is, you really should have told me. I’ve never trained for this kind of—”

Fin would’ve laughed if she wasn’t busy having her own panic attack. “Kyle! I’m not in labour,” she informed him.

There was a pause and then, “Thank God.”

“I thought you said you could handle crazy?”

“Labour’s not crazy. It’s savage and disturbing on too many levels and has no place in my life.”

Fin arched a brow. This man had seen war and having a baby was savage and disturbing? “Because you’re a man?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Careful, Kyle. The dark ages called. They want their caveman back.”

His laughter boomed into the phone. “I’ve never been around a pregnant woman before. You’re kinda scary now.”

“I’m scary?”

“Uh huh.”

Fin heard the sound of sheets rustling, reminding her of the early hour. “I uh, didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nope. I don’t sleep much.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

“Just one of the hazards of the job, you know?”

Fin did know. It was rare to catch Ryan in sleep. When she did, she took full advantage, studying features that looked almost boyish in slumber—from the strong jaw to his straight nose and thick, dark lashes that brushed softly against his cheeks.

The image of Ryan reminded Fin of the reason for her call. “Um, Kyle? If Ryan was hurt, would someone ring me?”

There was a pause. “Why do you ask that?”

“I missed a call this morning just after three from a blocked number. When Jake died ...” Her chest tightened. Saying that would never come easy. “It was Mum who told me, so I don’t really … I’m scared that something will happen and I’ll never know.” There was a pause, so clearing her throat, she added, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry,” he replied, his voice husky.

Frowning at how much he sounded like Ryan, Fin pushed up off the bed. “I should get going.”

“No.”

Her brows flew up as she stumbled over the top of Crookshanks’ twining form. “No I shouldn’t?”

“No, they wouldn’t ring you if something happened to Ryan. If you were next of kin, they would tell you in person.”

“Oh.” Ryan hadn’t mentioned it before leaving, but it was highly unlikely she was his next of kin. Not now.

“I spoke to Ryan early this morning, Fin. It was probably him ringing you like you asked him to in your email.”

“You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” he replied. “I’m sure he’ll ring back so don’t get yourself upset.”

“You worried I might go into labour tonight while you’re here?” she teased as she made her way towards the kitchen, Crookshanks making a rapid trek in front of her with hungry anticipation.