Chapter 13: Crown of Smoke: Chapter 13

I freeze in my doorway, keys dangling from my fingers. Flynn sits in my dimly lit living room on my couch like he owns the place.

‘How did you—’ My mouth goes dry. ‘What are you doing here?’ Part of me wants to run, but another part can’t tear my eyes away from him. The dangerous edge I’ve always sensed lurks closer to the surface now.

‘Your locks are shit.’ He holds up a piece of paper, one of my research notes about the Ifrinn family fire. ‘Found this while I was checking your place.’

‘Checking my—’ The words stick in my throat. ‘You broke into my apartment?’

‘More than once.’ His blue eyes lock onto mine, unrepentant as he rises and moves toward me. ‘One time, you were here. In the bath.’

Fear curls in my gut. I’m confused by what’s going on. I know Flynn is a dangerous, mysterious man, but until this moment, I hadn’t been afraid of him. And then it hits me… he was here when I was taking a bath. Embarrassment mixes with the fear and confusion.

“You’re lucky it was me and not one of Kean’s men. If you think they wanted to hurt you for trying to ask questions the other night, imagine what they’d do upon finding all this.” He gestures to my makeshift home office cluttered with my research for the Kean story.

I back up until I hit the closed door. Fear and attraction war inside me. This man who saved me, who touched me so intimately, is now an intruder in my home. “You should go. I don’t feel safe.” I’m not sure telling someone who is trying to intimidate you that they’re succeeding is a good idea, but I’m clearly out of my element here.

He takes another step closer to me. ‘You should be terrified right now,’ he says, his voice low and rough. “But not of me.” He sucks in a breath and with it, his features soften. “You need better locks, Lucy.” He gently brushes a tendril of my hair away from my face. The soft caress of his fingers has my body remembering his touch, the way his hands felt on my skin in the bathroom. The possessive gleam in his eyes when he caught that man touching me.

A tug-of-war ensues in my head. This man is dangerous. Reckless. When I’m around him, I’m reckless. I had unprotected sex, for God’s sake. Thank goodness it’s early in my cycle and the chance of pregnancy is slim.

His head cocks to the side, and he gives me his lopsided smile. “Tell me you’re not afraid of me.”

“I’m unsettled.”

“I’m sorry about that, but you need to understand how vulnerable you are here and get a fucking deadbolt.” He leans closer to me, so close that I can feel the heat of his body. My mind flashes to that kiss against the bathroom wall, his hands gripping my hips. The way he growled when someone interrupted us. How he claimed me right there, not caring who heard.

‘Will it keep you out?”

His lips quirk up. “It might. Is that what you want?”

No. I should, but heaven help me, I want him to stay. As I stand here, I’m fighting the urge to reach for him.

His hand cups my cheek, and I lean into it without thinking. He’s like a Svengali. I’m helpless against the pull of him.

‘Tell me to leave,’ he murmurs, thumb tracing my bottom lip. ‘Mean it this time, and I will.’

My laugh comes out shaky, but I force lightness into my tone. ‘So this is your dating strategy? Breaking and entering? Most guys just use dating apps.’

‘Dating apps are boring.’ His thumb still traces my lip, sending tingles down my spine. ‘Besides, I prefer the direct approach.’

‘Direct approach meaning stalking?’

His grin is equal parts dangerous and devastating. ‘It’s not stalking if you say yes to that date I keep offering.’

The worst part is how tempting that sounds. My body betrays me, craving his touch even as my mind screams about red flags and warning signs.

‘That’s terrible logic. Breaking into someone’s apartment is still breaking in, regardless of relationship status.’

‘True.’ His fingers trail down my neck, making me shiver. ‘But I’m teaching you a lesson.’

‘You’re impossible.’

‘I’m persistent.’ His eyes darken as they follow the path of his fingers. ‘Especially about things I want.’

The possessive note in his voice sends heat pooling low in my belly. ‘And exactly what do you want?’ I place my palm against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thunder beneath my touch.

“I think I’ve made that clear. After all, I’ve broken into your home.”

I’m glad he didn’t say he made it clear in the bathroom. It would have made me think this is just about sex. Except it couldn’t be more, could it? We’re just two people with a powerful attraction, but there’s no future here. When my story is done, when the Keans are exposed, Flynn will move on to wherever he came from. Our world intersects now only because of the Keans.

“You’re too cocky for your own good,” I say, trying to regain my wits. ‘Breaking into apartments, following dangerous people, getting into fights. One of these days, your luck will run out.’

‘It’s not luck.’ His hand covers mine where it rests on his chest. ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘Do you?’ I look up at him. ‘Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re being reckless. Those Kean men, they’re killers. I’ve done enough research to know what happens to people who cross them.’

He laughs. “Says the woman who walks into the lion’s den and doesn’t have a decent lock on her door.” He leans close to me, and that edge of danger about him vibrates. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I can tell you, I’m much more familiar with the Keans’ world and how to survive in it than you are.”

“No one is invincible, Flynn. What happens if they figure out who you are?”

He pulls back slightly. His eyes narrow. “Who am I?”

I feel like I’ve put him back on his heels. “I’m not sure. FBI?” I study his face, searching for confirmation, but his expression remains unreadable. Most people would rush to deny it if they weren’t law enforcement, but he just watches me with those intense blue eyes.

‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ I press my advantage. ‘You’re investigating the Keans officially. That’s why you were at the pub that night, why you’re entering their boxing matches. You’re undercover.’

The pieces click together in my mind. The way he moves, that controlled violence when he fights. His protective instincts. Even breaking into my apartment could be explained by being a detective willing to bend rules to catch criminals.

‘It would explain everything,’ I continue, more to myself than him. ‘The secret meetings with those other men, your interest in the Ifrinn case…’

Still no confirmation or denial from him. Just that steady, almost predatory gaze that makes my skin tingle. His thumb traces circles on my wrist where he holds it against his chest, the gentle touch at odds with his dangerous aura.

‘Though you’re not exactly what I picture when I think of a federal agent.” I take in his tattoos. ‘Undercover work must require a different type of cop.’

His lips quirk slightly, but there’s something dark in his expression that I can’t quite read. Like he’s enjoying a private joke at my expense. It should probably worry me more than it does.

‘You’re very curious,’ he finally says, voice low and rough. ‘Has anyone ever told you that could get you into trouble?’

The warning in his tone unsettles me. I’m missing something important here. The rational part of me says to let it go. The curious journalist wants to uncover the mystery of Flynn Tine.

His fingers slide up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I’m not a part of your story, Lucy. Our agreement is that we help each other.”

“I know.” But I’m already crafting the words to the story of the undercover agent who takes down the Kean family.

“Do you? I can see the wheels turning in your head. Will you include the part about my fucking you in the bathroom in your story? Is there some code of journalistic ethics about fucking your sources?”

His comment irks me, and I give him a push, needing breathing room to break his spell. “You’re being vulgar.”

He crowds me again. “No. I’m pointing out that you want answers about the Keans as badly as I do. And…’ His fingers trace along my jaw. ‘You want me just as much as I want you.’

He’s right, damn him. The mystery of the Keans consumes me, and the mystery of Flynn Tine pulls me in just as strongly. The combination is impossible to resist. But I can’t afford to be caught up in Flynn. I have a story to complete and an editor getting impatient at how long it’s taking me to finish it.

‘Your silence is loud,’ Flynn says. ‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’

I look up at him. “Do you know who betrayed the Ifrinns?”

He jerks back. Is he bothered that I’ve ignored his comment about us wanting each other and gone back to the point of this arrangement, learning about the Keans?

He steps away from me, shaking his head. “No. What is your interest in the Ifrinns?” There’s something personal about the way he says that name, Ifrinn. Like it means more to him than just another piece of the puzzle.

“Their demise preceded Kean’s rise. It seems like there is a correlation there considering they’re in the same business even though there’s a romanticism around the memory of the Ifrinns that doesn’t make sense. They all act like they’re reputable businessmen when in fact they were murderers and fraudsters just like the Keans.”

Something dark flashes in his eyes. Almost like I offended him. “If that’s what you believe, why bother with the story at all? I mean, the Keans did a service taking out the Ifrinns, right?”

“Innocent people died too. Their sons⁠—”

He laughs derisively. “The Ifrinn sons are not innocent.”

He knows something. “What do you know about them?” I ask.

He runs his fingers through his hair and paces a few steps. Finally, he stops. “Let’s focus. I’ll be back at the fights this weekend. You keep doing… whatever you’re doing.” He gestures to my papers. “Just do it away from the Keans.”

Now I’m the one offended. “I can go with you, keep my ears open like I did the other night.”

“And have you faint? I don’t think so.” All of a sudden, the dark intensity vanishes, replaced by the charm. “Unless you want a repeat in the bathroom.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m being serious, Flynn. You’ve agreed to let me help, so let me help.”

“You are helping.”

“You know, the Keans will figure you out. They know you saved me at the pub. It’s too dangerous for you too.”

‘I have to go.’ Flynn’s jaw sets in that stubborn way I’m starting to recognize. ‘Made it to the next round, remember?’

“They nearly killed a man. The way they kept hitting him after he was down… No one tried to stop it. They don’t fight fair. They could kill you⁠—’

‘I can handle myself.’

I press my hands to his chest, wanting him to understand the seriousness of the situation. ‘These aren’t normal boxing matches. They’re orchestrated brutality. And if they figure out whatever game you’re playing⁠—”

“Lucy. I know how it works. Trust me.”

I can’t rid my brain of the vision of Flynn unconscious, being dragged from the ring. “And you say I’m reckless.”

His hand slides up my arm, and I try to ignore how much I like his touch. ‘You’re cute when you worry about me.’

‘I’m not worried,” I say defensively. ‘I just think it’s stupid to risk permanent injury for some undercover operation.’

‘Mmhmm.’ His smug expression is so annoying. ‘So you weren’t about to pass out watching my match? Didn’t rush to hide in the bathroom because you couldn’t stand seeing me hurt?’

Heat floods my cheeks. ‘That was… I don’t like blood.’

‘Just my blood, apparently.’ His blue eyes dance with amusement. ‘Since you managed just fine watching the other match until I stepped in the ring.’

‘You’re impossible.’ I try to step back, but his hand on my waist keeps me close.

‘And you’re terrible at hiding how much you care. It’s endearing, really. The fierce investigative journalist getting squeamish over a few bruises.’

‘A few bruises?’ I poke his ribs where I know a punch landed, and he winces. ‘That’s what you call this?’

In one smooth motion, he presses me against the wall, our bodies flush against each other.

‘Worth it,’ he murmurs, his lips inches from mine. ‘Got to see you all worked up over my safety.’

I should push him away. But his touch scrambles my thoughts, makes me forget all the reasons this is a bad idea.

His forehead rests against mine, and for a moment we just breathe the same air, teetering on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling.

Then he steps back, leaving me cold and slightly dazed. ‘Don’t worry, Lucy. I’m not that easy to break.’

‘I’m coming with you.’ The words burst out before I can stop them. ‘To the boxing match.’

Flynn’s eyes narrow. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘You need backup.’ I lift my chin, matching his stubborn stance. ‘What if something happens? What if they beat you to a pulp like they did to that other fighter?’

‘That’s exactly why you’re staying away.’ His jaw clenches. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

“I’ll stay in the crowd. Keep my distance.’ I keep my voice steady so he understands that I’m being serious. “I’m not letting you walk into that den of wolves alone.’

Something shifts in his expression. ‘You’re not going to back down on this, are you?’

‘Not a chance.’

A slow smile spreads across his face. ‘Stubborn woman.’

‘Cocky man.”

He laughs. ‘Fine. But you stay where I can see you. And at the first sign of trouble⁠—”

‘I know, I know. Run and hide.’

‘No.’ His grip tightens slightly. ‘At the first sign of trouble, you find me.’

I nod. “Okay.”

His blue gaze studies me like he’s trying to assess whether I’m being sincere. I hope that he can see that I am.

He steps back. “Get a new lock, Lucy.” He walks out my door.

I sink on my couch, feeling wobbly like usual after an encounter with Flynn. The man is like a roller coaster ride, scary as hell but thrilling and invigorating as well. I might as well enjoy the ride while I can. I just pray that it doesn’t kill me.