“Good.”
“What?”
“You laughed.”
My throat tightens. The hood still stinks. The restraints still bite into my wrists, and fear still coils around my ribs so tightly I can barely breathe. But somehow, Finn makes me feel a little less alone.
After that, he goes quiet again. Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe he’s slipped somewhere inside the pain. I don’t know.
The SUV keeps moving while my mind refuses to stop.
What if we never get home? What if CJ never gets to tell me he loves me again? What if I’ve already heard those words for the last time?
The thoughts hit like a blow to the stomach. Pain shoots through me as I realize that home feels impossibly far away, like a place I imagined instead of lived.
My chest aches as I picture him running after the SUV, gun in his hand, screaming my name. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he realized he wasn’t going to reach me.
Then I think of Deck, running to where Finn fell. I saw the terror on his face, too. Right now he’ll be tearing Campbell River apart looking for us. Looking for him.
The thought should comfort me.
Instead, another slips in.
What if they don’t find us?
What if Adrian wins?
The terror I’d buried claws its way back to life, sharp enough that I can almost feel it digging beneath my ribs. A sob rises into my throat, but I force it back down.
For Finn.
For me.
* * *
The SUV suddenly begins to slow.
Every muscle in my body locks.
Beside me, Finn slumps against my shoulder before letting out a small whimper.
“Eli…”
“I’m here,” I answer immediately.
The tires crunch over loose gravel, slower now, until finally the vehicle rolls to a stop.
Finn starts crying quietly.
The sound shatters me.
My own tears follow before I can stop them. Every instinct screams at me to run, to hide, to disappear, but there is nowhere to go.
And I won’t leave Finn.
The engine dies. A door flies open and rough hands grab us. Pain explodes through my shoulder as I’m dragged from the SUV. Beside me, Finn cries out. Loose gravel tears beneath us as we’re hauled forward. I can’t catch myself before my shoulder slams into something solid. A wall. A doorway. I don’t know. Thehood never comes off, leaving the world black as the air changes around us. Warmer. Still. Stale.
We’re inside.
