Finally Finn (Los Rancheros #4) (14 page)

I hold up a hand and chuckle. “Stop. No. I’m
not a superstar. I’m a broke has been. A child star that got a
second chance.”

“Yeah? Is it because of Batalicious out
there?” she says with a smile.

“What do you know about the Batman?” I ask
cautiously.

“Nothing. I haven’t been able to put that
piece of the puzzle where it should go. Why don’t you give a dying
girl a bone, huh?”

I smirk. “You’re slick, kid, pulling that
card.” I lick my lips and sit back in my chair to consider her.
“He’s the creator of the show. Finnigan Brennick.” I say it because
it won’t hurt anything, not now. She’s not long for this world, as
much as it pains me to think. And what we do here is far from
anything that we should be ashamed of.

“Oh,” she groans. “What I wouldn’t give to
see him in person without the mask for a second. I bet he’s even
hotter in person.”

“You’ve seen pictures, then?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She shrugs weakly. “He’s on the cover
of every magazine and getting a lot of play on the entertainment
shows right now because of the show. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s with his nieces. The twins.”

“Huh. Guess that’s a major secret, then.”

“Sure is.”

She pretends to lock her lips. “I won’t say
anything. Well, except for my mom. It might make her smile.” Her
eyes drift from me and her lips twitch in a phantom smile as she
imagines it.

“Yeah, you can tell your mom,” I say. She
looks back at me.

“So you gonna tell me what’s going on with
that?” she asks suggestively.

“No,” I say with a laugh. “I took care of the
kids while his dad recovered from surgery. We’re together.”

“Do you call him Batty like you do here, or
Finn?” she asks through a yawn. I look at her sharply.

“He’s had issues with that, I guess. I called
him Batty before the kids, but they call him Finn so I do too.”

“And he doesn’t like it.” I shake my
head.

“Well, that’s understandable.”

“How?” I ask, irritated.

“You met him here, right?” I nod. “And
knowing you, you slept with him as Batty. He feels closer to you
that way.”

“Thanks a lot for that.” I purse my lips in
irritation, but my mind is on what else she said. Could that be why
he has a problem with Finn? My mind goes over his anger over Aiden
being at the house and I can see where that would be possible. But
I told the man that I loved him. Shouldn’t he know there’s nothing
there?

“You know I’m right,” she says smugly.

“Maybe,” I concede. Mara twitches her fingers
and it brings my eyes to her skeletal figure, and I find myself
asking the question I wish I never had to ask again.

“If you could have anything in this world, do
anything, what would it be?” I hold my breath.

“Besides eighty more years?” she asks
dryly.

I nod, unable to say anything as my throat
aches. Mara looks to the ceiling and rocks her head from side to
side.

“I would love to go to prom.”

“Prom?”

She shrugs self-consciously. “Yeah, well, ya
know. I’ll never get to drive a car, or have a wedding. I’ll never
get to have sex.” She finishes trying to shock me, I know, but I
just give her a flat look.

“So prom. You need a date. Who would you
choose if you could pick?”

“Anyone?”

“Yup,” I answer, fully prepared to drag Jamie
Dornan in here if that’s who she chooses.

To my shock, she turns shy. Her cheeks fill
with color and she meets my eyes fleetingly.

“Who is it?”

“There is one guy, but I’m sure you wouldn’t
be able to do it. I know what you do for the kids that don’t have
that long left.”

“Tell me.”

She licks her dry lips and finally meets my
eyes. “That guy on your show.” My mind automatically goes to Danny
and I relax. Thank Jesus. It’s as good as done. “He just had a
quick video on your show. I saw online that he got picked to be in
the top twenty. There’s videos from the concert in New York
online.”

Fuck. Fucking shit, little prick. I roll my
lips in and bite them to keep it in. I don’t want that little man
whore anywhere near my Mara. I sniff in frustration and nod.
“Okay.”

Mara’s eyes get big. “Okay?” she asks
incredulously.

I nod firmly. “Yeah. You gonna be here next
week?”

“Holy shit. For real?”

“Don’t cuss,” I say absently. “So you gonna
be here?”

“Hell yes!”

I look behind me to the closed door. “I’m
serious, don’t cuss. So what color do you want?” I ask, changing
the subject entirely. Mara’s smile is worth everything I’m going to
have to put up with with that punk kid.

“Black. With the sparkles.”

“Hey, Mom. Is it too late for me to call?” I
ask, sitting on the deck of my beach house. The kids are in bed,
and Batty is doing . . . whatever. I don’t know.

“Am I dead yet? No. It’s not too late. I just
got back from pinochle.”

“Well, that sounds . . . fun,” I finish
lamely.

“Shut up, we’re old. It’s not all keggers and
getting high at the fogies home, kid.”

“Fogies. There’s a word you don’t hear every
day,” I say with a smile.

“It’s all the rage. You should try to say it
once a day to work it in.”

I laugh in surprise. Who is this woman and
what has she done with my mother? “I will.”

“So listen, is there a reason why you
called?”

“I just wanted to check in. Make sure
everything was going okay there. How are you liking it?”

She sighs and I get concerned. “Well, it was
great for about two weeks, but then he started showing up
again.”

“He? Who is he? Brian?” I ask in alarm.

“Oh no, child. He’s still a regular, I mean
the other one,” she says, sounding upset.

“Who? I don’t know another guy that would
come see you. Who is it?” I shake my head and stand up to pace. Who
is seeing my parents in Mexico?

“He’s the son of that woman. I don’t want him
here, Sadie. It was bad enough that we had to put up with her for
years. He needs to leave us alone. Your father doesn’t remember him
anymore than he does you.”

“What’s his name?” I yell. I only know one
woman who my mother would refer to as that woman: Farrah. But she
doesn’t have a son. Does she?

“Jack,” she spits out and my body breaks out
in goose bumps. Finn steps out onto the deck, reaching for me when
I sway.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Who are you talking
to?”

“My mom,” I whisper.

“Mom,” I say into the phone.

“Yes, Sadie.”

“I’ll fix it. He won’t bother you anymore. I
promise.”

“That’s fine, dear. I’m off to bed.” She
hangs up and I lower the phone.

“What happened?” Finn asks, his hands on my
shoulders.

“I know who Jacque is.”

We table the problem to deal with in the
morning, but it’s too late. Both of our phones are ringing off the
hook before the sun comes up. Fucking reporters on my end, lawyers
on Finn’s. There are people outside of my gate.

I make coffee in the kitchen as Batty pulls
all of the blinds in my house. “Pull up the TZI website,” Batty
calls from the front door.

I hush him since the kids are still sleeping.
“I am,” I call back quietly.

When I pull it up, my gasp has Finn running.
There’s a black square that allow the pictures to be suitable for
mainstream, but it’s all damning. Our texts, pictures included, and
one of us taken from outside of my dressing room are there for
everyone to see.

“That son of a bitch. He’s dead.” He takes
the words straight from my head.

“I can’t believe he would—”

“Really? You can’t believe? Because I can.
That little prick had access to every password you have, and you
handed it over.” Finn explodes.

I spin around. “This isn’t my fault.”

“Oh yes, it is, Sadie. Someone just shows up
at your house after everything your brother and sister did and you
blindly take their word on it?” He waves his hands around
wildly.

I cast around for something to justify
myself, but I just feel stupid. “I didn’t know . . .”

“No. You never do. Why don’t you open your
fucking eyes.”

“Hey! You don’t talk to me like that,
asshole.” I point my finger in his face and he raises a hand to
pull it down when a voice interrupts the action.

“Aunt Sadie? Uncle Finn? Why are you mad?”
Bridgette asks, her voice shaking. I turn immediately and pull her
along with me into the living room. Finn paces the kitchen with his
hands in his hair.

“Let’s watch cartoons, okay? We’re not mad.”
I turn on the TV and it automatically shows the last channel
watched, which looks to be the news Finn was watching the night
before. They’re playing the video from the school when I went after
Brian and Patricia with a bat. I turn the channel quickly with
shaking hands.

“Are you mad at those people? Is that why
you’re yelling?” Bridgette asks. I shake my head automatically then
pause.

“They are bad people. But we’re just worried
about you. We want you to be happy,” I answer lamely. What do you
tell kids when they’re about to be hounded by cameras and have no
idea why? “Let me talk to Uncle Finn while you watch
Oomie
Zoomie
, okay?”

Her little face scrunches up. “But that’s a
baby show.”

“I don’t care. Sit down.” Hannah stirs and I
tell her to watch too, then head for the kitchen.

“Listen, Finn—”

“I’m taking the kids back to the house,” he
interrupts me.

“Okay, I’ll get my stuff and—”

“No. I’m taking them. You should stay here,”
Finn says firmly.

“What?” I ask faintly.

He takes the stairs two at a time and I
follow behind him in a daze, only to see him shoving clothes into a
bag. “You need to handle your shit, Sadie. I fixed your first
mistake. This is affecting the people I’ve kept away from the media
for over six years. They have to get away from this.”

“Away from me, you mean?” I clarify.

He stops and looks at me with the bag in his
hand, then pulls the strap over his shoulder and heads for the door
without a word.

“That’s what you mean, right? They need to
get away from me?” I chase after him.

At the bottom of the stairs, he stops, and I
skid to a stop two steps above him. His eyes roam my face like he’s
memorizing it, like he won’t ever see it again. “Batty?” I
whisper.

His face spasms in pain and he moves to get
the kids. I watch from the stairs as he pulls them out the door in
their pajamas.

With the click of the door, my world
ends.

WEDNESDAY

It’s been two days since I’ve seen Finn or
the kids. The media is camped out at my door, all major networks
are picking up the story on TV, and I’m a prisoner in my house. The
quiet that was once soothing is too loud. The quiet echoes like a
gong in my head. There’s no mess to clean, no one to stop from
getting into mischief. No one.

The first thing I did was call the lawyers at
Finn’s office and ask their advice. Then I changed every password I
ever had, on everything. Social media, online banking and alarm
systems.

Then I pace, up and back, from front door to
back. With nothing to do, I call Porter and tell him to get his ass
on a plane Sunday morning. He’s too excited to ask questions so I
don’t give any answers. I don’t care why he thinks he’s coming.

I have to get out. I grab my keys, a fedora,
and sunglasses then head for my car. My Mercedes. It feels strange
to pull the wing doors up, instead of out like the Charger. Even
the sound of the engine seems wrong now.

I drive all over, losing the paparazzi, and
have no clue where I’m going until hours later I find myself ten
minutes from my house, outside of a tattoo parlor.

I get out in a daze, and stumble into the
front door and lean heavily on the receptionist’s desk.

“Can I help you?” a young girl with pink hair
asks.

“Is Ali here?” I ask hesitantly.

“She’s in the back. Do you have an
appointment?” she asks politely. I shake my head.

“No. Can you get her for me? Tell her it’s
Sadie, please?”

“Sure,” she says slowly, moving in between
short walls where people are getting ink. My eyes take in all of
the people for the first time. The place is packed. I pull my hat
down lower.

Ali practically runs down the stairs in the
most revealing outfit I’ve seen her in. She’s showing as much skin
as I used to. She runs straight into me and wraps her arms around
me.

“Oh my God, girl. I cannot believe what’s
happening. Are you okay?” she asks, already pulling me to the
back.

“I don’t know. Finn . . . I haven’t heard . .
. he took the kids . . .” I can’t finish a thought. She gets the
gist and pulls me into a back office with lighted tables along the
walls.

“He took the kids and left you to deal with
this? That asshole,” she yells with a slam of the door.

I shake my head. “It’s my fault—” I start,
but she cuts me off.

“Oh, bullshit. It’s not your fault alone. He
sent texts back. From what I saw they were just as revealing.”

“Yeah, but Jacque was my employee and I
didn’t do any background checks or anything.”

“You’re twenty-two and have had people doing
things for you your whole life. How were you supposed to know? No
one taught you any different,” she protests.

I sink onto a stool and gasp out, “ I feel
like such a fool.”

She sighs and pulls a stool next to me,
putting her hand on my knee. “You’re just young, honey.” She
quietly studies me. “You still love him?”

My eyes shoot up to hers and the tears fall,
finally. “How do you know I love him?”

She wraps her arms around me as I collapse.
“Oh, honey. A blind man could see that.” Ali rubs my back as I sob,
not only for the loss of Finn, but Batty and the twins, and Patrick
and Aiden. I didn’t just lose Finn, but a whole family.