Page 69 of Finn
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
GABRIEL
The motel roomwas silent except for the low hum of the heater struggling to fend off the night’s chill.
Finn lay beside me, his breathing soft but uneven, as if even in sleep, his body refused to fully relax.
I reached out, brushing my fingers through his hair in slow, deliberate strokes, hoping to offer him some comfort.
I wasn’t far from sleep myself, the weight of exhaustion pulling me under. But just as my eyes closed, I heard it.
A faint sound, barely more than a whisper, outside the door.
My senses snapped to attention, adrenaline flushing away the drowsiness in an instant.
My eyes shot to the door, now just a dark outline in the dim room.
For a second, I told myself it was nothing. A creak of old floorboards. The wind pressing against the thin motel walls.
But then I heard it again.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
My stomach twisted into a knot as my pulse quickened.
I turned my head toward the window, catching the faintest movement. A shadow slipping past the weak glow of the streetlamp outside.
“Finn,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
My hand tightened on his shoulder, shaking him gently but urgently.
He stirred, blinking groggily at first. But the moment he registered the look on my face, his expression sharpened.
“What is it?” Finn asked.
I tilted my head toward the door. “Someone’s out there.”
Finn froze, his body going rigid. I could see his mind racing, the same questions swirling through both of our heads.
Was it Gael? Asher?
Finn sat up slowly, his movements deliberate and quiet.
He reached for the knife he kept under his pillow, the blade catching the faint light as he gripped it tightly.
I rose beside him, my senses straining to catch any hint of movement or sound. The footsteps stopped.
We exchanged a tense glance, neither of us daring to speak.
Then came the knock.
Three sharp raps against the door, each one reverberating through the stillness like a gunshot.
My heart thundered in my chest as I stepped forward instinctively, shielding Finn with my body.
Whoever was on the other side, they’d have to go through me first.
