Page 56 of After We Fall

I push forward. “Do you remember Miss Fielding?”

“The art lady?”

“Yes. The art lady.”

She sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I really like her.”

“Yes. She really likes you too.”

“She does?”

“Yes,” I say, hoping the truth tethers her back to the ranch. “She says you show a unique perspective in your artwork.”

Finley looks down at our hands.

“She’s staying with Tanya and Bianca tonight. Go there. Stay at the ranch. Stay safe. I’m safe here. You’ll be safe there.”

She exhales, possibly relaxing into my words, giving me hope.

Maybe in some bizarre way, this painful day was necessary to bring Finley home. A beacon for her inside the storm of abuse. If that’s the case, it was worth it. Every last second.

“It’s going to be okay, Finley. I promise.”

Alligator tears fall down her pale cheeks, and she plants her face on our bound hands. “I was so scared, Penny Lady. All that blood. And you weren’t answering me.” She sobs. “I don’t know what I would do—I couldn’t live with myself—if something ever happened to you.”

“I’m okay. Just some bumps and bruises. It looks worse than it is. Promise.” I rub the top of her hand with my thumb. “Luke’s going to track down Marcus and take care of everything. It’s going to be okay.”

She jerks back. “What? Luke?” Her eyes grow big and round. “No. He can’t do that. Marcus hates him.”

“Finley—”

“He hates Luke.” Yanking her hand from my hold, she stands, shaking her head. “No. No. I have to go. I have to find him first. If Luke finds him, he’ll just run again. Then the cops will think he’s guilty.”

“You can’t go after him. It’s dangerous. Don’t you get that?” My voice rises, and pain radiates from the base of my skull. I bite my lip and lower my tone. “Head to the ranch.”

“I have to go. I think his boss helps him out sometimes. I have to find him.”

“Finley, Marcus’s job is questionable at best. I don’t think asking his probably drug-dealing boss is wise.”

“Marcus—he hasn’t been himself this week.”

“How hasn’t he been himself this week?” Maybe I can keep her talking. Keep her in this room. But the stress of this conversation is spiking my adrenaline and pumping painfully through my injuries.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I think—I think he has a gun.”

“What do you mean you think he has a gun? He either has a gun or he doesn’t.”

“I saw one. I saw a handgun in his dresser. I asked him about it, but he said it was a friend’s. But that can’t be right. Why would he keep a friend’s gun? And if it’s not a friend’s gun, why would Marcus have a gun?”

“Yes, Finley. Why would he have a gun?” I close my eyes, silently begging the throbbing to quiet so I can have this conversation. All I know to do is push the nurse button. They can’t make her stay either, but maybe they can call Luke. “Please. Please don’t go to him.”

“I’ll fix it, Penny Lady.” She touches my leg as she walks backward.

The last I hear from Finley is the sound she makes shutting my hospital room door.

That’s odd. Usually the nurse takes my pulse and blood pressure with the machine next to my bed. Why is she holding my hand for this round of vitals?

Now she’s stroking her thumb across my palm. That’s nice. Probably not in her job description. But it’s lovely all the same.