Finn was there. His Finn. Gentle and brave and so kind, the Finn who always stood shoulder to shoulder with him. The one who would always protect him when he needed it. He was there, and Jaime wasn’t stuck in that house, in that closet, anymore. He’d gotten out, he’d survived, and now he was here with his Finn.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jaime took a long, wet breath. “I’m sorry.”
Finn wrapped broad arms around him. “Oh, baby. Don’t ever apologize for that. Not ever. That phone call hit us both sideways. I’m sorry for not stepping in to help sooner.”
Jaime shook his head. “It was a shock to us both. If I don’t get to apologize, neither do you.”
Finn held him a while longer, and after gulping down some water, Jaime asked him to fill him in on what he’d missed.
Police weren’t sure whether the wreck was an accident or intentional, but Bishop certainly had help. Most likely from the Salt Creek deputies that were in his escort, either through a coordinated effort or seizing a moment of opportunity.
Apparently, Sheppard said that DA Rivera had narrowed down both his identity leak and the main suspect in aiding Bishop’s release to Detective Jones, which did actually shock Jaime a little. He was an ass, sure, but he had seemed invested in bringing justice to Vera.
More concerning, though, was his potential knowledge of Jaime and Finn’s whereabouts. Detective Sutton was made aware that they were relocating to a secure safe house, and if Detective Jones somehow got ahold of their location and communicated it to Bishop or Jeffrey Dugan… Jaime shuddered.
Finn continued explaining that no one knew where Bishop was. Monroe PD’s search area was too narrow, based on the potential movements and physical limitations of a human man, but the paranormals on the force were doing what they could with the help of other packs and shifters in the area to get a wider search party together.
It was difficult though, given that Bishop likely had help from Detective Jones and other Salt Creek deputies who weren’t talking. Jeffrey Dugan’s tail hadn’t reported any suspicious activity, and though they suspected the two were connected, there was no proof that he’d helped with Bishop’s escape, so they couldn’t arrest him.
Dana, Detective Sutton, and DA Rivera all called one after the other through the secured line, updating him and asking if he was ok, if they were safe. Being blindsided by that first phone call had sucked, but Jaime did ok for the rest of the conversations. He kept his breathing steady, anyway.
Everyone seemed to agree that it was best for them to stay where they were for the moment. There was no proof that Detective Jones had compromised their location, and now that the trial was on hold, they had no reason to leave until Bishop was apprehended. The cabin was defensible, and was as good a place as any to hole up until Bishop was found. They all promised that they’d call to check in tomorrow.
Jaime felt strung out and thin, suddenly overly anxious about locked doors and open windows when he hadn’t been before. Ready to go tuck into bed next to Finn, he started for the stairs when the phone rang again.
Finn answered, “Silas.”
The relief and raw emotion in his voice brought tears to Jaime’s eyes, the ache in his chest from missing Sam sudden and overwhelming.
Finn darted his eyes up to Jaime, full of empathy and understanding. “He’s here with me, yes, but just about to head up to bed. This is so fucked, Si.”
They exchanged a few words, and it seemed that Silas didn’t know anymore than anyone else, but then Finn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Something else you want to mention, brother?”
Jaime could only make out a few gruff mumbles in response. Finn again looked up at Jaime, this time in conspiring surprise. “Tell him that he’s ok. Shaken by the news, but ok. Does he… I mean, does he want me to hand the phone over?”
Jaime narrowed his eyes in question. Finn’s face fell a bit. “Well, ok. I’ll say goodnight, then. Yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow. Be safe.” His face grew fond. “Yeah, you too, Si.”
Hanging up, Finn heaved a great sigh and tossed the phone aside, bouncing on the couch cushions. With an unreadable look on his face, he said, “So, that was Silas. And Sam.”
Jaime’s brows shot up just like Finn’s had. “Sam is with Silas? At your house? Why?”
Finn shook his head once in an unsure gesture. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say anything, except that Sam needed to know you were safe.”
Jaime’s mouth tightened. “And he couldn’t tell me that himself?”
Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, I’m not sure he thought you’d want to hear from him, after your… conversation, the other morning. Apparently, he just wanted you to know that he is thinking about you, and wants you to be safe.”
Jaime rolled his eyes and started up the stairs, unable to stop his snide tone. “Helpful.”
Finn didn’t say anything more about it after that. He had to be tired and anxious too, and some part of Jaime knew his reaction wasn’t entirely fair. Yes, Sam had ignored him for the better part of a year when he’d reached out, but he also knew that after what he’d said in Finn’s bedroom, he’d probably need to be the one to re-open that line of communication.
Tomorrow. Maybe the next day. Not tonight, when all he wanted was to crash into bed and curl up in the safety and warmth of Finn’s arms, too exhausted for anything else.
The next twodays at the cabin were entirely different from the first two that they’d spent together.
Now, their tiny shelter really did feel like a safe house, and less like a sex den. The windows were too small, and yet too exposing, and the outhouse was too far for Jaime to comfortably go without Finn standing on the porch, keeping watch.
Finn was almost always in his partial shift now, always tense and alert, and he rarely left Jaime’s side for longer than a few minutes at a time. Before, Jaime had passed the time that theyweren’t fucking each other like animals by reading, or doing one of the puzzles on the shelf. He’d even debated firing up his iPad, safely on airplane mode, and sketching a few things that had been on his mind.
