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  Lawless

  The Finn Factor, Book 8

  R.G. Alexander

  Lawless

  Copyright 2017 by R.G. Alexander

  Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  To Cookie: Love is the reason

  To the Finn Club: Thank you for being there for me and this huge Finn family we've all come to love. You go all in for me every day. I can't wait until we can get together for a Finn Again of our own.

  Enjoy the new family! #TeamWayne

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Thanks for Reading!

  One Night at Finn’s

  Other Books from R.G. Alexander

  About R.G. Alexander

  Chapter One

  Solomon rolled out of bed at dawn. He’d been awake for hours, but the first weak rays of sunlight streaming into his upstairs window gave him a valid excuse to start his day.

  Time to run.

  He’d always found comfort in keeping to familiar routines, and his early morning jog through the quiet, older neighborhood usually helped him get his head on straight. Afterwards he had a shower, hot black coffee and scrambled egg whites to look forward to.

  He’d had the same morning schedule for years. The only difference now was he didn’t put on his clean uniform and head to the station after breakfast. Some days he still had to remind himself that he had nowhere he needed to be. He hadn’t for a while.

  Until he’d resigned from the only job he’d ever known, stopped cutting his hair and come out to his family near the first of the year, his life had been consistent. Structured. Now there were some days he barely recognized himself in the mirror.

  He was the second Chief Solomon Finn to remove his badge and retire early. He never knew the reason his father had made his decision, but he’d left for family reasons. Personal reasons. It was an impulsive decision, but at the time he’d seen no other option.

  Now his days revolved around what he wanted instead of what was expected. He’d been more available to the people he cared about. He’d also spent more time volunteering at the youth center. He’d become friends with several volunteers as the police chief, and they’d welcomed him with open arms and a schedule that gave him something to look forward to. The kids welcomed him as well, and it was a balm for his soul after this last year.

  Since his savings and investments insured he had at least another year before he had to make any definitive career decisions, he had all the time he could ask for to do whatever he wanted to do.

  He was untethered. Free. No obligations. No demands on his time.

  At first he’d been surprised at how well he’d taken to it. He’d never had any time off before, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d relaxed. Vacation Younger, his family had called him, when they’d gotten over their shock.

  Initially his brothers assumed he’d retired because he was having a mid-life crisis. But when he hadn’t purchased a new house or car, and hadn’t celebrated his coming out by dating some guy half his age, they’d started to worry.

  That was when the campaign to get him an active social life had begun in earnest. Jeremy, Rory, his Aunt Ellen, everyone knew someone they wanted him to meet for drinks. Stephen’s wife, Tasha, kept sending him articles from an advice columnist named Green.

  It was thoughtful and generous. It was also the last thing he wanted.

  He had no desire to go to clubs or connect to anyone online. He already knew what he wanted. Who he wanted.

  The fact that the man in question wouldn’t give him the time of day was a problem no one in his family could help him resolve, and not something he was eager to share.

  He picked up his pace, focusing on the sound of his shoes hitting the asphalt, the cold air that stung his cheeks and the sweat dripping down his spine. Anything to distract him from thinking about what he didn’t have, and the endless list of bad decisions that got him to where he was now.

  Forty. Unemployed. Alone.

  “God, but you look grim, Solomon. I thought healthy people were supposed to be so full of sunshine they shat rainbows and radiated pure joy. You can’t even claim job stress for that constipated scowl. You’re not really selling me on the lifestyle, if I’m honest.”

  Where the hell had he come from?

  Solomon kept his stride steady in spite of the surprise arrival of his Irish cousin, who’d managed to catch up to him mid-jog wearing his ever present motorcycle combat boots. “William. A little early in the day for a visit. Plus, as you can see I’m kind of busy at the moment. What did you do this time?”

  Someday he was going to pay Seamus Finn back for this. One trip to Ireland and he’d come back with a rich lover and three new relatives. Bellamy was a great guy, but his new cousins—this one in particular—he could live without.

  Finns and vacations were not a good combination.

  William smirked, an expression that seemed permanently etched into his face and begged to be knocked off every time Solomon saw it. Since he’d fought with his fists for money more often than not, he probably did it on purpose.

  “I might be offended, cuz. What makes you think I did anything wrong? Maybe it’s a brisk, beautiful morning, I didn’t feel like going to sleep yet, and you’re the only one I know who gets up this early on purpose.”

  Maybe he was full of shit. That was more likely.

  He didn’t respond. William would tell him what he wanted eventually. He did not play the silent game well. Then again, compared to Solomon, no one did. Talking was overrated and got a man into trouble. He’d seen it a hundred times on the job.

  You have the right to remain silent. People would save themselves a hell of a lot of grief if they took that right a little more seriously.

  Dogs didn’t need to talk. Maybe it was time to commit to a canine companion. His brother Rory’s boyfriend—one of them—had a sister who’d given several puppies to the family recently. Cute little things that needed a lot of attention, but made up for it by being loyal and obedient. And if he said something foolish, he’d be forgiven as long as he kept a treat in his pocket.

  As if his thoughts had conjured up an example, they ran passed old Mr. Evers a
s he walked slowly to his mailbox, his shoulders hunched against the cold as his poodle circled and yipped at his heels. The man’s expression said he was rethinking his choice in companions. He glanced up, recognizing Solomon, but his watery eyes narrowed when they focused on the waving William.

  “We had a neighbor like that once.” He sounded a little winded, Solomon noticed with satisfaction. “People didn’t know he’d kicked it for more than a week until his deliveries started piling up. When they found his body, they were horrified to see that his sweet, pampered terrier had eaten one ass cheek and the meat of his left leg clean off.”

  “Jesus.”

  “It’s the truth. And that small, noisy mongrel could be planning his last meal as we speak.”

  Fine. He’d put off getting a dog. Now might not be the best time for it anyway.

  It’s never the right time for you to have something you want, is it? You put things off, bottle things up and set them to the side for a day that never comes. Or comes too late to make a difference.

  It was how he’d always been. He’d concealed his sexuality for most of his life, not because he was ashamed, but because he’d genuinely believed it was the best way to keep the peace in his family. And that faulty logic had come with repercussions that were still reverberating through his life and those of his five younger brothers.

  The familiar self-recrimination surged inside him when he thought about what secrets had done to his family. Too many secrets, generations of them, and he and his brothers had continued the tradition.

  You did say you were consistent.

  Leaving William behind, he started to run faster, pushing his straining muscles to the limit to escape the boil of resentment in his blood. Sweat dripped in his eyes and his lungs filled with ice, but he welcomed the discomfort. Needed it.

  “Sol! Oi, wait up,” William called out in surprise.

  I’m not Sol.

  His father was gone, but he was still a weight around Solomon’s neck. An albatross loaded down with the guilt he’d agreed to carry back when he’d committed his original sin of letting things lie.

  “I’m gay too, Dad,” he’d whispered that final confession in his father’s ear at the end. A small act of defiance when what he needed was someone healthy and whole he could punish.

  Standing in that hospital room, he’d wanted to force Elder to apologize to Rory. Some part of him held out hope, right until the last, that he’d see an ounce of regret, a shred of decency in the parent who’d raised them. A single spark he could grab on to and say, “I came from that.”

  He supposed his father sending him for the journals that documented his youngest child’s abuse could be seen as his way of telling the truth. But he couldn’t shake the cynical belief that Sol had given him that job to ensure the secret was kept, not shared.

  Because he believed you understood him. That you were like him.

  For a time, he’d thought so too. Solomon the Younger had always followed the rules. He’d kept his siblings fed, clothed and in line in an attempt to save them from their father’s wrath, and done everything Elder expected a perfect son to do. From excelling at football to volunteering at the department as a high school student and signing up for the police academy as soon as he was eligible—he did it all to pacify the old man. To keep the peace.

  Not all of it was selfless. Being a cop never bothered him the way it did his brothers. He understood it and he was good at it. He would have been happy to make a difference in relative obscurity for the rest of his career, but then his father had been the one to inexplicably retire, and he’d chosen Solomon to be his successor.

  Though he’d been on the force for ten years at that point, there were older and more qualified men to take the job. Their loyalty to Sol kept them from stepping forward, and the old mayor had been more than happy to appoint the prodigal son. Having a police chief with the trusted Finn name in office was a popular decision, he’d claimed. He even had a running joke with the press about not having to change the sign on the door.

  Solomon spent the next decade working to prove he was worthy of the opportunity, keeping the peace for the public and his officers the way he always had for his family. Keeping his personal needs to himself.

  He’d done such a good job at compartmentalizing, that until he’d come out, the only people who knew about those needs were the strangers he’d picked up at bars outside of town. They never knew his real name or what he did for a living, and when he came back home, he never shared his experiences with any of his family or friends.

  He kept the focus off of him and on everyone else so no one knew him. No one had any idea who he really was. Not the whole picture.

  Hugo saw you. He knew you and you pushed him away.

  Solomon stopped running so abruptly he almost stumbled. He bent over, hands gripping his knees and his heart hammering in his ears. “Shit.”

  Just thinking his name brought up a painfully clear image of dimples and warm brown eyes. Memories forced their way through the temporary barriers he’d been placing in his mind all morning.

  “Son of a bitch, I take it back,” William wheezed as his booted feet clomped toward him. “I’m humiliated and shamed and sold. I’ll start juicing tomorrow. You juice right? Liquefy innocent baby vegetables and sacrificial virgins for breakfast? That’s why you can run so fast at your age?”

  He shot an irritated look at the muscular twenty-four-year old, but secretly he was grateful for the distraction. “Running usually clears my head. I don’t have a lifestyle. Or a juicer.”

  Still red-faced, wintry blues eyes looked him over in frank curiosity. “Not working today then? The head clearing?”

  “No, but it’s not your fault.” He straightened up and started walking. “One block left to the house. You coming?”

  William followed in sheepish silence as Solomon wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt, his mind still on Hugo.

  Hugo was the reason he couldn’t sleep. The reason he’d been stirring up his personal ghosts and torturing himself with the past for days.

  The man was always in his thoughts, haunting him with might-have-beens. But lately it was getting worse.

  Tomorrow is his birthday.

  Hugo Wayne was turning thirty-eight, and he would be celebrating another year without him. Thriving without him. Possibly smiling at another man who was lucky enough to catch his eye.

  Solomon had been that lucky once. Now he lived on memories of stolen moments. The sound of Hugo’s laugh and the soft, hungry groans he’d make whenever Solomon kissed him. The bright fucking faith in humanity that had him train to be both a healer and protector, excelling at everything he set out to do.

  Solomon had been drawn to that and everything else about him since the first time he’d seen him with his brother, James, the year they’d graduated.

  As cops, they’d drifted at the edges of each other’s lives for years. Hugo’s muscular six-foot frame, dark skin and intelligent brown eyes were the first things he’d noticed. And that smile. No one could resist responding to his smile or the dimples that made deep grooves in his cheeks.

  Solomon thought about those dimples a lot.

  Hugo also had a solid reputation in the community. People trusted him. Solomon had been impressed again and again by the passion he’d put into his work, and yes, now and then he’d allowed himself to imagine what else Hugo might be that passionate about.

  Once he’d learned that he was gay, Solomon had already been attracted enough that he’d gone into self-preservation mode. He’d started spending more of his down time out of town, resisting his desire for the local man he worked with by hooking up with strangers that he’d never see again.

  He might have been thinking about Hugo when he did it, but as long as he kept his physical distance, things wouldn’t get complicated.

  Two years ago, it got complicated.

  They’d worked together with a few others in his department to develop a weeklong de-escalation training pr
ogram for the department. Its success and the mayor’s full-throated endorsement gave him the leeway to make some overdue changes.

  Solomon knew bad practices were occurring with alarming frequency on a national level, and he refused to let the people under his command fall victim to it. He needed someone who cared and could think outside of the box, and the opportunity was too important to pass up due to his personal attraction, so he’d tasked Officer Wayne to lead a handpicked group to create a more cohesive community outreach program. On his end, he increased department evaluations and required refresher courses on nonviolent protocols and interpersonal skills.

  It was a big change, and there’d been initial resistance, little grumbles about extra hours and body cam requirements, but everyone enjoyed the end results along with the trust and gratitude of the community. He was proud of the work they’d done.

  He and Hugo made a good team. And the more time they spent together, the harder it became to ignore what was happening between them.

  Brainstorming sessions over Chinese takeout led to subtle acknowledgments of mutual attraction. Eye contact that lasted a minute too long, bodies brushing past each other at work and whispered confessions of need that eventually turned into long kisses and desperate caresses in the shadows. It stretched on for more than six months.

  He knew they had things to sort out, but when Hugo handed in his letter of resignation without warning, everything in Solomon’s dedicated, regimented world turned to shit.

  He couldn’t focus on his work. He wasn’t sure how many days he’d wasted attempting to get Officer Wayne back on the job. People assumed there’d been a work-related incident and Solomon let them, hoping to elicit the sympathy of Hugo’s friends, hoping they’d convince him to return.

  He’d been obsessed. Distracted. Not fit for duty.

  A few months after resigning himself, he’d tracked Hugo down at the hospital. That was when it finally hit him. He was too late.

  Hugo no longer wanted to know how he felt. He’d already moved on.