In addition to being my best friend, Finn was the son of my mentor, Fletcher Lane, the old man who’d taken me in off the streets years ago. An assassin himself, Fletcher had taught me everything I knew about my former profession. Finn was like a brother to me and one of the few people I trusted since the old man’s murder a couple of months ago. Even though I’d retired from being the assassin the Spider, Finn was also my handler now, for lack of a better word. I might not be dealing in the shady side of life anymore, but Finn kept me informed of any goings-on that might impact me—as well as his own lucrative schemes in the corporate world of investment banking that he inhabited.

Finnegan Lane squatted down beside me and stared into my face. His green eyes swept over my bloody features, analyzing and assessing the damage just like his father, Fletcher, would have done once upon a time.

“Geez,” Finn said. “I thought you looked bad yesterday. You look like shit tonight.”

“Great to see you too, Finn,” I replied in a dry tone. “Yesterday I just had the flu. As you can see, it’s turned into something a bit more serious.”

“Indeed,” Finn murmured. “Indeed. And you can tell me all about it later. Right now, we need to get you out of here. Xavier, if you would be so kind?”

The giant nodded, put his free hand under my legs, and scooped me up into the air the way a child might pick up a wayward puppy. Finn held out his arms, and Xavier passed me over to him. They were being as easy and gentle as they could, but the movements hurt. Pain tightened my chest again, making it hard to breathe. Felt like one of my cracked ribs was scraping against my lungs. More blood also pooled in my mouth, but I swallowed it down. I was in enough agony already. I didn’t want to have to listen to Finn bitch about me spewing blood all over his precious suit too. At this point, my ears were just about the only part of me that didn’t burn with pain.

Finn turned toward the crime scene tape, but Bria got to her feet and stepped in front of him.

“Hold it,” she snapped. “She’s not going anywhere. The paramedics aren’t here yet, and she needs medical attention.”

Finn did what he always did when confronted by an angry woman—he checked out her boobs. His green eyes landed on Bria’s breasts, analyzing and assessing them just the way he had my injuries a moment before. His lips curled back into a wolfish grin at the sight. If I’d felt stronger, I would have punched him for ogling my sister.