The Woman Sent to Tame Him

CHAPTER FOURTEEN


THE SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT was an almighty roar and the chant of Finn’s name from his fiercest homeland supporters rang in his ears as he stepped off the winner’s podium with a farewell wave and shot through the crowd. He hadn’t seen Serena since dawn, and the perpetual torment from his heart and conscience had him hurtling towards insanity.

He had to see her. Check she was okay. In truth he’d swear he could feel her pain, and his arms ached to hold her—hell, his entire body ached for her. Had done since the moment she’d vanished from his suite. Since she’d ripped his heart out by pleading with him to live his life. The way she’d touched him so affectionately, forgivingly, would stay with him always.


It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to keep his hands fisted on the iron rail, not to turn around and reach for her. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t believe for one second that she could forgive him. He was convinced the only reason she hadn’t looked at him with hate in her eyes was because of the incredible night they’d shared. Or maybe he’d taken Tom’s place in her world. A rebounding kind of need.

Eventually, when she realised that, she’d walk away—and he’d be in so deep it would kill him. He’d lose her. Just as he lost everyone he cared for. It was inevitable.

So, while it had torn him apart to sever their connection, he knew it was for the best. For both of them.

In and out of the Scott Lansing garage he went—his guts twisting at the barren space—before he jogged round to the back of the pits, where a myriad of luxurious motor homes were parked.

Smooth tarmac gave way to the crunch of gravel beneath his boots and dark shadows crawled eerily over the dirt, up over the high-gloss black paintwork of the fleet, as if thick, ominous clouds slowly usurped the sun. He shuddered...

Then crashed to a halt.

There stood Michael Scott, at the bottom of the steps to Finn’s motor home, wearing an expression that weakened his knees.

Skin clammy, he clutched at his chest, felt the thrash of his heart against his palm. ‘Wha...what’s happened?’ No, please God no. Please let her be okay.

‘What you’ve got to understand about Serena, my boy, is that when her emotions get too big for her she runs. Always has, since she was a little girl.’ Regret deepened his voice. ‘Don’t suppose it helped that she never had a mother in her life. I take it you told her everything?’

Finn tried to swallow as relief and heartache vied for space behind his ribs. She’d left him. ‘Yes. Everything.’ Then he remembered the phone call he’d taken before the race. ‘The police in Singapore have just made an arrest.’

The older man took one step forward and laid a heavy hand on Finn’s shoulder. ‘Good. Now we’ll get some justice. I know you tried to do right by my son.’

Finn locked on to Mick’s sincere gaze, desperate to believe him.

‘Serena must know it too, considering all your body parts are intact. Time to move on, Finn. Let it go.’

Maybe he nodded; he was too numb to be sure.

‘Can’t guarantee she’ll come back in a hurry. Last time, after the funeral, she was away months. She’s not going to London. I know that much. But she did leave you this.’

Michael passed him a white envelope, with Finn’s name a messy scrawl across the front, then patted his shoulder and sidestepped to walk past.

‘By the way, she watched the race—asked me to say you were awesome out there and that you’ll know what she means.’

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. Finally the woman uttered the words he’d tried to tease out of her for months. Aw, man, was it any wonder he adored her?

‘Yeah, I do. Thanks, Mick.’

Bones weighted with dread, he plonked down on the top rung of his steps and thumbed the sticky flap of the envelope. Patience wasn’t his strong suit and after two seconds he tore it apart, until her letter was in his hands.

On a long exhale he unfolded the crisp sheet and stared for a long moment, watching a fine drizzle dust the page.

Despite the chaotic churning of emotions inside him, her messy handwriting brought another smile to his lips. He missed her already.

* * *

Dear Finn,



I’ve never been one for goodbyes, but in the last few weeks you’ve helped me say another kind of goodbye—to Tom, so I could lay him to rest. Despite how our friendship came about you’ve been a friend to me in many ways, shown me much about my life, and I’d like to return the favour. So I’m calling in the wish you owe me.



Now, I know what you’re thinking: my logic is a bit backward—how can my favour be your wish? But hear me out, okay?



It dawned on me earlier, when I left, that it doesn’t matter if you never believe my word or believe in my forgiveness. What truly matters is that you learn to forgive yourself. Otherwise, and trust me when I say this, you’ll never truly move on. Which is why I’m about to tell you something very few people know and I’m asking you to keep it close to your chest.



Long story short, as you would say, my first na?ve crush was with one of Tom’s friends. One who quickly turned hostile. And for a long time I blamed myself for what happened afterwards.



I should probably explain that I was young, with no women around, and not really sure how to handle boys. I figured I’d rather be one of them, and that was fine until I came to that awkward age where they began to treat me differently. Anyway, I was fourteen, and let’s just say I liked this much older boy—or should I say man? He was Tom’s age: nineteen.



He weaved his web, spun his lies, told me anything and everything—‘I want you, Serena, I love you. Come meet me, Serena, I won’t hurt you’—until I fell for him. I started to dress up—girly stuff—flirted a little, sneaked out with him, but I wasn’t prepared for what came back at me.



Turns out ‘no’ didn’t mean no with him.



The first time he tried to force me I managed to get away, and he persuaded me not to tell Tom or he would hurt him. Foolish, I know, but I think it’s easy to believe anything at that age. Spider-Man comes to mind...



Anyway, he began to follow me, watch me from the shadows, and I was frightened for a long time. Then one night, during a huge party downstairs, he came up to my bedroom. He’d been drinking. He overpowered me. I was beaten up pretty bad, among other things, and I’m sure he would’ve gone all the way if Tom hadn’t come in.



There was a huge fight and Tom got seriously hurt—we thought he’d never drive again—but he pulled through. Of course he blamed himself for not reading the signs sooner, so you see I’m not surprised he asked you to watch out for me. He became very protective.



I saw a counsellor for many months and she tried to help me past it. In many ways she did. She made me accept that I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t deserve to be beaten. She certainly helped me to stand tall, but in reality I never truly moved on. I didn’t completely let go of the blame. Of the thought that if I’d been braver, stronger, told someone sooner, Tom’s health and career wouldn’t have hung in the balance for so long.



I didn’t let go of the idea that my behaviour was at fault. Because if I had I wouldn’t have suppressed the woman I am inside.



You’ve shown me that, Finn. Helped me see so many things. But watching you struggle this morning I realised I’m still searching for peace.



Choices.



I’m choosing to let go, Finn. To forgive myself. I wish you would too.



At the bottom of this note is the number of the counsellor I saw, and my wish is that you go and see her, even if it’s just the once. She can help you if you’ll let her. It’s strange, but I used to resent my dad for sending me—just thought he was palming me off on someone else. But I can see now. He was too close to the situation. Too emotionally involved. Which is why I think you need to speak to someone who isn’t personally connected, you know?



You’re a survivor. We both are. Let’s make the most of this life we have. If not for us, for Tom.




Well, that’s it, I guess. Take care of yourself and try not to crash my car, okay? Look after her. She may be a fiery bolt of lightning with a tough outer shell but underneath...she’s still just a girl.



Serena.





The paper fluttered to the dirt as Finn leaned his elbows on his knees and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Moisture smothered his palms as his shoulders shook in the suffocating silence.

Underneath...she’s still just a girl.

Idiot. He was such an idiot. He hadn’t just hurt her; he’d caused more damage than he’d ever dreamed possible.

Was it any wonder she’d stifled her femininity? And what had he done? Given her confidence, told her she was unique in every way, encouraged her to open up to him. And in the next breath, fuelled by his own fears, he’d insinuated that she was just another good-time girl who meant nothing to him, expecting her to take it like the tough cookie she was—and succeeded in stripping her raw. Forgetting for one moment that underneath she’s still just a girl. One who’d been tampered with when she’d been merely fourteen years old.

Against all the odds, no matter what life threw at her, she came out fighting.

‘You have no idea how proud I am of you,’ he murmured, to no one but himself, wishing she was here and he could hold her. ‘How brave and beautiful and strong and amazing you are to me.’

Finn rubbed his eyes, then clawed down his face.

Why did he keep hurting people? He knew not to let his emotions engage. Knew he was like a loose cannon, made bad choices. He’d left Eva to suffer, sent Tom to his death. Now he’d hurt Serena too.

What was more she’d been betrayed barely out of adolescence and now Finn had done it a second time. She’d never trust him again—not in a million years.

Any last vestige of hope died in his soul as she disappeared with his heart.

He needed more than some shrink. He needed a miracle.

One perfectly beautiful little miracle.

Every cell in his body screamed for him to go and find her, make it all better somehow. But what would he say? I’m sorry didn’t sound anywhere near what she deserved. And that was all he had to offer. Apart from more hurt in the long run. He was messed up and he knew it. He also knew he was far better off alone.

He just had to hope she found the peace and happiness she deserved.

As for him, he had a wish to take care of.

He owed his girl nothing less.