Page 21 of When You're Forgotten

Finn clenched his fists, trying to grapple the man, but the intruder twisted nimbly, breaking free.A fleeting scuffle ensued—Finn lunged, hooking an arm around the intruder’s midsection.For a moment, he thought he had the advantage.But the intruder struck Finn’s thigh with a quick, precise blow, causing Finn’s leg to buckle.The attacker tore away, sprinting down the corridor.

A flash of frustration and pain surged through Finn.Gritting his teeth, he hauled himself up and gave chase, ignoring the twinge in his leg.The figure careened around a corner, feet pounding on the wood floor.Finn thundered after him, mouth dry with adrenaline.He glimpsed a fleeting silhouette as the intruder vaulted through an open window near the far end.

Finn skidded to a halt at the window’s ledge, saw the masked man drop to the lawn with a thud and roll fluidly.A hiss of anger escaped Finn’s lips.He clambered onto the windowsill and, pressing his palms on the sill, hopped down outside, landing roughly.Pain flared in his ankle, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

The intruder was already darting across the lawn.Finn sprinted behind, breathing hard.The morning sun bathed the grass in golden light, but it did little to quell the tension.They neared the treeline on the eastern side of the estate, where shadows clustered under the thick canopy.

Finn barreled in among the trunks and undergrowth.Twigs snapped beneath his shoes, and the greenery rustled as he passed.The masked figure was nowhere in immediate sight, so Finn slowed, scanning the dim pockets of foliage.A single bead of sweat trailed down his temple.He heard only the rustle of leaves, his own heartbeat in his ears, and some distant birds chirping overhead.

“Come out,” he muttered under his breath, pivoting in a slow circle, ready for any sudden movement.The smell of damp earth filled his nostrils, and the hush of this woodland patch felt claustrophobic.The intruder had vanished into the gloom, silent as a wraith.

A faint sound to his right made him whirl, but before he could defend himself, something struck him sharply at the back of his head.Stars flashed in his vision, and he stumbled forward, catching himself on a mossy log.The blow’s aftermath reverberated through his skull, dazing him.He spun around, wild-eyed, but saw only swaying branches and filtered sunlight.

No footsteps, no figure.The intruder had vanished as surely as a phantom.Finn cursed under his breath, wincing as he touched his scalp.His hand came away damp with a smear of blood.Wonderful, he thought grimly, definitely needed that.

Every sense on alert, he tried to listen for any sign of breathing or motion, but the intruder had melted away into the underbrush.Left with an aching skull, he recognized the futility of stumbling blindly after a foe who knew the terrain better.Exhaling, he started back the way he came, weaving between pines and oaks until he reached the estate lawn again.

As he walked, he felt a trickle of blood tracing a line down behind his ear.Each step sent a dull throb through his head.He glanced over his shoulder every few yards, half expecting the intruder to reappear, but the morning remained deceptively quiet and still.Brynmor Hall’s silhouette soon re-emerged from behind the treeline.

When he reached the manor’s side entrance, he realized how unsteady he felt, adrenaline receding into a pounding headache.Yet he forced himself to stand tall.The front door came into view, and there, under the arch, stood Amelia and Marianne, both looking anxious, scanning the property.

A man in his forties stood with them.He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a casual but expensive-looking jacket over a simple shirt.His hairline was receding slightly, and his expression was tense with concern.Upon spotting Finn’s disheveled state, he took a half-step forward.

Amelia’s eyes widened.“Finn!You’re bleeding!”

Marianne gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth.“Oh my goodness!What happened?”She hurried closer, voice trembling.“Was it the intruder?”

Finn forced a small, unconvincing smile.“They got away.I’m… fine, just a bump on the head.”He lifted a hand, showing the smear of blood, and Amelia grimaced.

“This is Judd Aspen,” Amelia said, nodding at the man.“He was just introducing himself.”

The man offered a stiff nod, stepping forward.“You must be Finn Wright.James told me about you, years back.Said you were some hotshot from the Home Office.We need to talk about him as soon as you’re sorted out,” he added quietly, flicking a cautious glance at Marianne.

Finn eyed him, taking in the keen intelligence in Judd’s gaze.The man certainly exuded confidence, and he seemed guarded around Marianne.“You’re the friend James let stay here, right?”Finn asked.

“Yes,” Judd murmured.“We’ll talk later, away from prying ears.”

Marianne rolled her eyes.

Amelia frowned.“For now, let’s get Finn inside.That head’s bleeding quite a bit.”

“Agreed,” Marianne said, beckoning them.“We have first-aid supplies in the study— or the kitchen, whichever you prefer.”

Finn nodded wearily.“Kitchen might be better.Less chance of disturbing any evidence in the study.”He gestured toward the direction of the crash, though now the intruder was gone.“We’ll check it out afterwards.Right now, a bandage would be appreciated.”

Amelia lightly touched his elbow, steering him gently toward the door.Judd stepped aside, letting them pass.He held Finn’s gaze for a fleeting second, something unreadable in his expression, then inclined his head in silent acknowledgment.

“Thanks,” Finn muttered, feeling the sting at the back of his scalp intensify.Already, an uncomfortable trickle of warmth had snaked down to his collar.Through the haze of his headache, he wondered what Judd Aspen knew about James’s final days.And why he insisted on talking away from Marianne’s presence.

Inside, the house’s relative dimness enveloped them.Marianne hurried off, presumably to fetch a first-aid kit or a cloth.Amelia stayed close, one hand bracing Finn’s arm.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”she asked softly, searching his face with worried eyes.

He forced a reassuring nod, though each pulse hammered against the bruise.“I’ve survived worse,” he said, injecting a wry note.“Just didn’t expect to be ambushed out there.The intruder was fast—and strong.”

Amelia’s lips pressed into a thin line.“They must’ve been rummaging through James’s study.Maybe we can figure out what they were after.”

Finn winced as a particularly sharp throb lanced his skull.“Let’s handle that once I’m not about to pass out.Then we can check the study, see if anything’s missing.”

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