And now she had to face it head on.

“Trust him, chica,” Jake said from her phone. “He deserves to know and you deserve to be free of this once and for all. If he’s who you think, it’ll be okay.”

And then the rat fink bastard disconnected.

“Pru?” Finn brought up his free hand and slid his fingers along her jaw, letting them sink into her hair. His expression was wary now, but that didn’t stop him from standing in her space like they were a couple. An intimate one.

Her heart tightened. It’d been everything she’d ever wanted.

Only a few moments ago he’d been looking morning gruff and deeply satisfied. Now there was something much more to his body language and—Oh good Lord. He had a bite mark just to the side of his left nipple. She felt the heat rise up her cheeks.

“I have another on my ass,” he said, his tone not its usual amused or heated when discussing their sex life. “We’ll circle back to that. Talk to me, Pru.”

Her heart was pounding, her blood surging hard and fast through her veins, panic making her limbs weak. She looked at her phone but Jake was long gone and in the reflection of the screen she could see herself.

She hadn’t gotten away from last night unscathed either. There was a visible whisker burn on her throat and she knew she had a matching mark on her breasts.

And between her thighs.

Finn had brought her pleasure such as she’d never known, both in bed and out.

And now it was over . . . “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve kept something from you.”

“What?” There was some wariness to his tone now, though he still spoke quietly. Willing to hear whatever she had to say.

She immediately felt her blood pressure shoot through the stratosphere.

“Just tell me, Pru.”

Well, if he was going to be all calm and logical about this . . . She inhaled a deep breath. “It’s about my parents. And their accident.”

His eyes softened with sympathy, which she didn’t deserve. “You never say much about how it happened,” he said. “I haven’t wanted to push. You don’t push me on my dad’s shit and I appreciate that, so—”

“It was a car wreck.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. “They . . . caused other injuries.” She paused. “Life-altering injuries.”

His eyes never left hers. “And?”

“And I . . . got involved.”

“You’ve been . . . helping them?”

“Yes, but only in the smallest of ways compared to the damage my parents caused.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “That’s got to be painful for you.”

“No, actually, it’s healing.”

He looked skeptical.

“I had to,” she said softly. “Finn, my parents are the ones in the car who killed your dad.”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? The man driving the car that hit him was some guy by the name of Steven Dalman.”

“My dad,” she said quietly. “My mom never took his last name. Her family was against the match every bit as much as his. She gave me her name, not his . . .” She trailed off when Finn abruptly turned from her.

He shoved his fingers into his hair and didn’t say a word. She wasn’t even sure if he was breathing, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Off the sleek, leanly muscled lines of his bare back. The inch of paler skin low on his waist where his jeans had slipped.

The tension now in every line of his body.

She tried to explain. “I just wanted . . .”

Finn whipped back around. “Want what? To satiate your curiosity? See if Sean and I were as devastated as you? What exactly did you want, Pru?”

“To make it better,” she said, throat tight. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, was to make it better. For both of you, for everyone who my dad . . .” She covered her mouth.

Destroyed.

“I see,” he said quietly. “So that’s what I was to you, another pet project like the others you collected and fixed their broken lives.”

“No, I—”

“Truth, Pru,” he said, voice vibrating with fury. “You owe me that.”

“Okay, yes, I needed to help everyone however I could. I needed to make things right,” she reiterated, swallowing a sob when he shook his head. She was losing him. “So I did what I could.”

“I didn’t need saving,” he bit out. “Sean and I had each other and we were fine—” He stilled and his eyes cut to hers, sharp as a blade. “It was you. You got us that money that was supposedly from a community fundraiser. Jesus, how did I not guess this before?” His gaze narrowed. “Where did that money come from? Is that why you sold your childhood home? To give it to us?”