Page 76 of Damián

¡Carajo!

I check the time on my watch: barely five in the morning.

I spend the next hour staring at the ceiling, trying to force myself back to sleep, but my brain absolutely refuses to shut off.

Screw you, brain.

Giving up, I throw on some clothes and head straight to the only place in the city where I know someone who is actually awake at this ungodly hour.

I arrive at Chapters & Crumbs and knock on the locked glass door. Finnian pulls it open a few seconds later. His copper red hair, his freckled face, and his shoulders are completely coated in a fine, white powder.

“Vaya…” I nod. “Is this how I find out you really, really love coke?”

He glares at me, which somehow makes him look even funnier. “I was attacked by a bag of flour,” he huffs, and I instantly start laughing. “The bloody thing was too heavy an’ the shelf was too high.”

I step inside, and he locks the door behind me.

“Want some help?”

“I would love some,” Finnian says, pointing a powdery finger at five large industrial bags of flour sitting near the counter. “Those need to go in the back.”

I walk over, bend down, and haul three of the bags up against my chest.

“Careful! Each one is fifteen kilos—” Finnian starts, abruptly cutting off as I effortlessly straighten up with forty-five kilos of flour in my arms.

I flash him a smug grin, and he just sighs.

“I’m partly amazed an’ partly annoyed by you.”

“Gracias. Where do you need these?”

Finnian walks ahead, guiding me toward the back of the bakery, and points to an open doorway. “In there, please.”

I step inside and lift the bags onto their shelves, but as I dust off my hands, I notice something is… off.

The walls in this storage room are made of reinforced steel, and the open door behind me has a bulletproof core that is as thick as my thigh.

I freeze.

“Finni… are you using your panic room as a pinche pantry?”

Finni winces. “Nae…?”

“Logan is going to kill you.”

“Shite. Please don’t tell him!”

“Are you kidding me?! Do you know the line of work we are in?” I gesture wildly at the shelves of baking supplies. “Do you have any idea what Logan would do to me if something happened to you, and he found out I knew your emergency safe room was stuffed full of flour and chocolate?”

“He would nae like it…?” Finni offers weakly.

“He would kill me with a spoon! Or something equally slow and painful.”

“Sorry!” Finni sighs, looking at his beautifully organized shelves. “It’s just… It’s so much space, an’ it’s incredibly useful. Why waste a perfectly good room on an emergency that’s probably never going to happen?”

“Finnian…” I warn, crossing my arms.

“Aye fine… I’ll move some of the stuff out.”