Page 62 of Finn
For a moment, neither of us moved. Then his grip on my arm loosened, and he slumped against me, his body going limp.
I caught him before he hit the ground, lowering him gently onto the pavement.
My hands trembled as I checked his pulse, relief flooding through me when I found it steady.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”
I dragged him to the truck, every step feeling like a betrayal.
His body was heavy, his breathing slow and even. The dosage must have been strong, stronger than I’d anticipated.
By the time he woke up, Gabriel and I would be long gone.
Hundreds of miles away, hopefully far enough that Asher wouldn’t be able to track us again.
But as I hurried back to Gabriel, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on my chest.
I’d won the fight, but it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like I’d lost something I could never get back.
By the time I returned to Gabriel, he was leaning casually against the car, chatting with the tow truck operator. A man named Todd, according to his shirt patch.
Our car was already hooked to the back of Todd’s truck, ready to be hauled away.
The moment Gabriel saw me, though, his easy demeanor shifted.
His sharp eyes scanned my face, and I could see the tension flood his features.
Whatever Todd had been saying was left unfinished as Gabriel murmured something to him and crossed the short distance between us.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Gabriel asked, his voice low and urgent.
I shook my head quickly, unable to speak. Not yet.
My mind was still racing, caught between guilt and frustration. Thankfully, Gabriel didn’t press me.
Todd called over, offering us a ride to the nearest town while our car was being worked on.
Gabriel nodded, murmuring his thanks before gently guiding me toward the truck.
Seated in the back, I leaned against the door, trying to ground myself in the rhythm of the road as Todd drove.
Gabriel sat next to me, his posture stiff with concern.
He kept sneaking me worried glances, his fingers brushing against mine as though to remind me he was there.
I eventually gave in and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly.
He squeezed back, his touch reassuring despite the questions I could see in his eyes.
Todd dropped us off at the town’s small diner, the only place open at this hour.
He assured us the car would be ready in a few hours and wished us luck.
Gabriel thanked him again, his voice calm despite the storm brewing beneath the surface.
Inside the diner, we slid into a booth in the back, away from the scattered patrons.
A flickering light above us cast the room in an uneven glow, and the air-conditioning hummed louder than it needed to.
