Falling For Disaster Read Free Page A

here as soon as possible, so it worked out,” Finn explained as he went back to the kitchen. He tossed the old batteries in the trash and jumped when he turned and found Saint standing behind him. Saint was only an inch or two taller than Finn but he was wider and Finn felt like he was standing next to a wall of heat and muscle.
    “Sorry,” Saint murmured as he handed Finn the flashlight. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said as he stepped back and leaned against the counter. Finn shrugged as he popped new batteries into the flashlight.
    “You’re fine,” he said as he tested it then handed it to Saint.
    “I’m sure most people would be jumpy, having someone like me wandering around their house,” he winked as he flipped the Maglight in his hand and Finn crossed his arms over his chest.
    “Someone like you?” He asked and Saint gave him a pointed look. Finn rolled his eyes. “You don’t come across as a violent psychopath,” Finn explained and Saint’s lips tilted into a grin that looked a little like a dare and Finn waved it off. “And you’re definitely not stupid,” he said and Saint’s brows rose. “Four cars passed us while we were talking earlier. Enough people saw you broke down by my mailbox to place you here if you should decide to murder me,” Finn added and Saint laughed.
    “Good point,” he teased as he tapped his chin with the flashlight. The fine lines at the edge of his eyes crinkled and under the brighter kitchen light, Finn could see beyond the tattoos, long hair and beard. Saint was definitely beautiful but it was his age that surprised Finn. If he had to guess, he’d say that Saint was in his mid to late forties.
    “Is Saint your real name or is that your…” Finn cringed. He wished he’d went ahead and blurted out the question about Saint’s age. Well done… After discussing his street name, maybe you can ask him if he’s killed any hookers lately, Finn scolded. Saint raised a brow and for a moment Finn was certain he was reading his mind.
    “It’s a nickname my brothers gave me,” he explained as his eyes searched Finn’s. Finn did his best not to fidget or look away as Saint studied him. “I’m the one that usually steps in when someone’s about to get hurt or killed and cools things down. I don’t like when a brother murders someone. It’s a fucking mess and a hassle,” Saint said and Finn’s eyes flared. Saint laughed and punched Finn on the shoulder. “I’m kidding. I’m just not a fan of violence,” he stated and Finn tried not to look too relieved. “There are a few hotheads in The Brotherhood and I’m usually the voice of reason.” Saint grinned as he gestured toward Finn. “Is Finn your real name or is that your inner city teacher name?” He asked and Finn pulled a face.
    “It’s my last name. My first name’s Phillip. I’m named after my dad and my mom thought Finn was cute and it made it easier to figure out who she was yelling at when I was a kid. It just stuck,” he explained and Saint nodded.
    “That makes sense,” Saint said then cocked his head toward the porch. “I better get out there and get to work, I don’t want to keep you.” He saluted Finn with the flashlight as he left the kitchen and Finn followed.
    “Is there something I can do to help?” Finn asked and Saint stopped at the door.
    “Do you know anything about bikes?” Saint asked and Finn shook his head.
    “Not a damned thing,” he admitted and Saint chuckled softly.
    “I’m sure I’ll be alright. Just do whatever it is you’d do if I wasn’t here and I’ll try not to make too much noise,” Saint said as he pushed the screen door open. Finn’s lips twisted as he watched Saint shut the door and skip down the porch steps. He disappeared into the dark and Finn waited until he saw the flashlight’s beam bouncing around the garage before he turned and ran up the stairs.
     
    Finn changed out of his work clothes into a faded Beastie Boys t-shit, grey