Chapter 16 FAMILIAR TASTE

Chapter 16 FAMILIAR TASTE
MIA
I can feel my eyes sting with tears as soon as I leave his office. I already took the hint a while ago that nobody really cares about me around here, but this hits different, because it takes me back to a time in my life where I was all alone. I was basically fair game to anyone who found me – that was before Dante came along and took me under his wings.
He cared about whether I lived or died, he loved me, and now God knows where he is or if something has happened to him. I’m trapped in a place where I have no means of finding him or offering help if he’s in danger. I have no way of knowing if he needs me or if he’s looking for me.
I feel utterly and completely helpless – it’s been a minute since I felt that way, and I honestly thought I’d never have to feel this way again.
I step out onto the balcony, and the cold air hits me like a slap, but I welcome it. It gives me something else to focus on besides the tight ache in my chest. I close the door behind me and slide down against the wall, tucking myself into the darkest corner like I can disappear if I make myself small enough.
The tears spill from my eyes uncontrollably. Not the graceful kind. Not the silent kind. They rip out of me, heavy and relentless, blurring the lights of the city until everything looks distant and unreal. I press my hand over my mouth, but it doesn’t help. My shoulders shake anyway.
I’ve survived worse than this, I know that. I’ve slept on floors, bled in alleys, learned how to turn fear into a weapon and pain into armor. But I thought I was done. I’m not supposed to be this girl anymore – the one curled up and breaking down when no one was looking.
I thought I was free.
Dante saved me. He came and took off the shackles that had held me down all my life. He gave me rules that didn’t feel like chains, a purpose that made me feel alive. For the first time in my life, I belonged somewhere, I mattered.
And now I’m here.
In another gilded cage. Another powerful man deciding what I can touch, where I can go, who I’m allowed to be. It doesn’t matter that the walls are pretty or that the threat wears discipline instead of cruelty. A cage is a cage.
I draw my knees to my chest and stare at the dark sky, blinking hard as if that might push the present away. But it never does. It always finds me, every time I think I’ve outrun it.
“I just wanted out,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
The darkness doesn’t answer. It never does.
When the tears finally slow, I’m left feeling hollow and exposed, like I’ve peeled away all the layers that keep me alive. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and sit there longer than I should, letting the cold numb everything.
The door opens quietly, and I move frantically to adjust myself and pull myself together. When I finally lift my head, Fin is descending to his knees in front of me.
He’s holding a small box, and it’s too dark to see what’s inside. Only after he takes out a cotton wool and a band aid, do I figure that it’s a first aid box. He doesn’t ask what happened or say anything at all. He just moves closer to me and starts cleaning the wound I sustained on my head when that douchebag hit me with his gun. I had completely forgotten about that – but apparently, he didn’t.
“Ahh!” I move back a bit when I feel the sting.
“Hold still,” he murmurs.
I watch him through blurred vision as he takes a wet cloth and wipes at the dry blood on my cheek and the cut near my temple. His touch is soothing and careful, as if he genuinely cares if it hurts, and that makes my throat tighten.
No one checked on me.
Not after the gun.
Not after the chaos.
Not after I almost died.
But here he is, making sure that I at least get some treatment.
My eyes burn again. My chest caves inward, and before I can stop it, the tears spill over – silent at first, then shaking, humiliating sobs that I can’t hold back.
Fin pauses.
Then he sets the cloth aside and gently pulls me into a hug.
I don’t know why I’m feeling so vulnerable today; emotions just keep pouring out of me, and I can’t seem to control them.
I try to pull myself together. I’m better than this, and I shouldn’t be crying like this, especially not in front of him. He’s basically one of my captors.
I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip around me. “Don’t do that,” he says softly.
“Don’t tuck your emotions back in like a piece of cloth. You’re allowed to be human, Mia. Plus, you almost died tonight, and your life has changed drastically in the last couple of weeks.”
His hands tangle in my hair, gently caressing my scalp, instantly relaxing me. I grip his shirt without thinking, fingers curling like I’m afraid he’ll disappear if I let go.
“You did the right thing,” he says quietly, close to my ear. “You’re alive because you trusted your instincts.”
“But I wasn’t supposed to have a gun,” I shake my head against his chest.
He pulls away a little so he can look at me, and with the help of the moon and the streetlights around, I can look at him and confirm the sincerity behind his words and actions.
“You weren’t supposed to die either,” he says.
He still has his suit on; he didn’t even get changed before coming to find me. My heart swells, and I have no idea who was moving towards whom, but the next thing I know, my lips meet his, and he hesitates, like he’s contemplating.
Shit! I guess I was the one who moved first.
Shit! Shit! Shit! This is awkward.
I immediately try to pull away and do as much damage control as I can.
I manage to make it a few inches away from his face when I feel him pull me back and smash his lips onto mine.
The kiss is needy and filled with more passion than I ever thought Fin was capable of. I lean into the kiss, and he snakes his hand around my waist, pulling me closer – yearning – needing.
His lips leave mine for a split second, and I gasp before pulling him back in. I want more, I need more – his hands start to wander, and I grab a fist full of his hair, internally praying that he goes further and takes me right here on the balcony.
A transmitter echoes through the house, and our lips break apart, but we remain close, catching our breath.
Nikolai’s voice comes ringing from above. “Mia, you should be in your room. You are not. Fix that.”
The transmission ends, and there’s silence again. I look at Fin, who is still steadying his breath,  his arm still holding me.
“Go,” he says, letting me go. I hesitate for a moment, not knowing the appropriate way to behave after this moment. But I have nothing better to say, so I just leave, with my heart drumming in my ears. Why did that feel- familiar?