Page 146 of Yours to Keep
Then there’s nothing.
36
CJ
We arrive at Adrian’s house, but the gates are closed. The final thing standing between Eli and me.
They are locked and towering. For a second, my heart sinks. Then Deck doesn’t even slow down.
“Climb,” he says.
No hesitation. No plan. Just action.
We grab the metal bars and haul ourselves up. My hands slip, boots scraping for grip, but we make it over. We drop down the other side and immediately run.
Deck, Silas, Mack, and I don’t stop.
The house appears through the trees, sitting there like it knows what it has taken from me. Every step feels like a countdown. My heart is in my throat. Panic tries to rise, but I force it down. If I let fear take even one inch, I’ll lose him.
We run side by side, matching pace, closing the distance to the house. Closing in on the person I promised I would keep safe.
We find Finn before we find Eli.
He’s sitting against the wall, awake but barely. His eyes open when he hears us, but there is a heaviness behind them that scares the hell out of me. Pale. Exhausted. Confused. But alive.
That’s all that matters.
“Deck?” he whispers.
Deck is on him immediately, dropping to his knees and pulling him into his arms, kissing him carefully like he’s afraid Finn will disappear if he lets go.
Finn clings to him, crying, like letting go would break him all over again. The sight hits me hard. If Finn looks like this, what the hell did they do to Eli?
“Where’s Eli, little one?” Deck asks quietly.
“I don’t know,” Finn whispers. “I didn’t see him. I woke up here. I can’t even tell you how I got here. I remember fighting them in the car, but nothing after that.”
Deck looks at me. I nod once.
He hands Finn over to Mack and Silas. “Guard him with your lives. No one gets near him.” They don’t hesitate.
Deck presses his forehead to Finn’s, murmuring something only he can hear. Then he looks at me.
We both know Eli is still out there.
We leave them to it. Silas and Mack start checking Finn over without needing to be told. Finn isn’t leaving that room. Not alone. Not unprotected.
We move fast, before thought can slow us down.
The house is silent. It’s that silence that sits wrong in my chest as we search room after room. Then I see it. The door leading out toward the beach is open, curtains shifting with the wind.
My stomach drops as I walk toward it slowly.
Then I look through to the darkness and scan. I look for my boy. And then I see them.
Two figures on the beach below.
One standing.
