Page 71 of Love Bound

"Okay, you can put me down now," I say as we round the corner into the kitchen, but he doesn’t listen and takes me all the way into the bathroom.

He sets me down and hugs me tenderly and then his arms drop. He undresses me, easy enough because my pants were cut off mid-thigh by Jade's partner.

I'd forgotten.

Laying a hand on Finn's shoulder as he leans over, I step out and then he helps me shrug out of my shirt.

He starts running the water then. It’s spring, so it shouldn’t take too long for the hot water to run up the pipes.

"This will sting like hell, you know," he says, and I realize that he’s going to bathe me.

After I nod, he helps me into the shower and turns on the wand.

Later, I'm all bandaged up and sitting on the sofa, my legs stretched out, feet in Finn's lap. While I doze off and on, he's fielding phone calls, one after another with Nic and Bryce and someone else from his old company. And Jackson. Finn's efficient, jaw set, all business, and I see in quick successive flashes how he used to be in a past life. His life with Allison. His life as a security expert.

"Hey. No deep sleep, sweetie. Wake up," he says, rubbing my legs, careful to avoid the four bandages underneath my robe.

"Okay, okay," I say. I know he's keeping me awake in case I do have a concussion. "Can you help me get the car tomorrow?" I yawn. All the adrenaline has worn off and I'm really starting to sting. A cup of melting ice sits within arm's reach, for my lip. I avoided the mirror in the bathroom, but I know there's a cut along my hairline. Finn pressed a small square adhesive gauze bandage there an hour ago.

"The car is being impounded. They already have it," he says.

"Why?"

"Because it's evidence." Finn is blowing this all out of proportion.

"Listen, this was bad. I get it. But these things happen. It was an asshole tourist who didn’t stop. It's just a coincidence," I tell him.

That word sets him off. Lifting my feet, he moves to sit right next to me. When he slips his arm under my shoulders, our faces are just inches apart.

Though his color's back, he looks beyond angry. Beyond cruel. And I shiver because I think it's hate. I can almost feel it roiling from him in waves.

"It's not a coincidence, Claire. It was Steven Miller. He's here."

"What do you mean here? In Maine? In Echo Bay?" Despite myself, I tremble again, and my legs feel like they're strapped with weights. "How can you be sure?"

"The Savvy-T."

"That ridiculous yacht in the harbor? How could he own that?" I ask.

"He works it."

Trying not to panic, my mind, though bruised, starts putting two and two together. "The pie was yesterday."

"Right." Finn's face is starting to soften, his jaw unclenched, mouth open. I can see his lips narrow, and his eyes are so full of hurt and sorrow, I want to cry again. He lifts his other hand to pull back some stray strands of my hair and tucks them behind my ear.

"But why me? I'm nothing to you." I feel him pull back imperceptibly. "I mean, from an outsider looking in. We're not married, we're not—"

"You're everything to me," he says, his voice thick and low. "Everything." He pauses, then stands and walks to the kitchen for two glasses of water. "He's been watching us, Claire. Right from the bay. For months."

"What do you mean?"

"He knows I love you. He's been here, watching us from that fucking boat. He's seen us together."

Suddenly, I can't breathe. I start gasping, hard, and I try to move my legs down so I can stand up, but I don’t know where I'd run.

In a second, Finn is beside me, kneeling, his hand over my mouth, and I have to pull hard to get air. "It's okay, breathe gently. Slow it down, slow it down," he says quietly, like a coach.

The room begins to swirl. I know I'm hyperventilating—I’ve done it twice before; once when I got the phone call that my parents were dead, and the second time when Devon jumped.