“Wasn’t me,” Sol answers quickly.
“It sounds quieter than an alarm,” Dutch says. And then his eyes narrow on J. “It’s coming from her.”
J’s feet suddenly give out, and she crumples. Seeing that she’s going to hit the floor any second, I catch her by the shoulders.
Dutch, Zane, and Sol run into the room.
“Is she dead?” Zane asks, glancing between me and the barely conscious J.
Dutch looks at me strangely.
Sol does the same.
Do they think I killed her?
“Her chest is moving,” Sol mutters as he stares below J’s neck.
I realize what he’s looking at. J’s shirt is still unbuttoned, exposing her creamy skin.
In one quick motion, I scoop her into my arms and hide her against me. The thought of any other guy getting to see what I saw, what I touched, and what—I’ve just decided—I will eventually taste sends flames roaring through my chest.
Dutch takes one look at my face and does a double take. “Finn?”
“I think he’s… angry?” Zane mutters.
Sol laughs nervously. “Out of everything that’s happened tonight, this is the freakiest.”
I ignore their remarks. If I don’t do something, J really might die.
“Dutch,” I growl.
My brother stands taller.
“We need to get her to the hospital.”
At that moment, police sirens erupt outside. Blue and red lights flash in the distance.
Sol turns antsy. “The cops.”
“Go. I’ll stick around and deal with them,” Zane offers.
I nod my thanks.
Zane pats my shoulder and leaves first.
We hurry in the opposite direction. Dutch leads the way to his car, and Sol opens the back door of the truck. He extends his hands, offering to take J.
I scowl at him, and he immediately withdraws, holding up both arms in surrender. “All right, Finn. Chill. Do your thing.”
I climb into the car and set J in my lap.
“Get off,” she argues weakly.
I relax my grip on her in case I’m hurting her, but I don’t let go. “You can either fight me or catch your breath. Pick one.”
J pries her mouth apart and gathers enough breath to rasp, “Screw… you.”
I smile. So she would rather fight me and die.
