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“Talking,” Finn groaned against my neck. “Your mother left you. When?”
“A few weeks ago. She…she died.” I was practically growling.
I’d never been so angry before. Angry about my mother. Angry that I was feeling things toward Finn that both confused and amazed me.
Finn went to kiss me again and I bit at him before he could come too close, my teeth clanking in the air. He chuckled and pressed his lips to mine anyway, sucking my bottom lip. I bit down and instantly tasted his blood, coppery and sweet on my tongue.
Finn pulled back and the rage I expected wasn’t there. Instead he snaked out his tongue, licking the drop of blood from his lip, keeping his eyes trained on me the entire time. “How did she die?” he asked, leaning forward and brushing his lips against the crook of my neck. He rocked against my bare opening with his hardness.
When he left me in bed he’d gotten partially dressed, only the thin fabric of his boxer briefs between us.
My eyes rolled back in my head with a pleasure that jolted into me so hard I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I was downright dizzy.
“How,” Finn repeated against my skin.
“She…she killed herself,” I managed to finally answer, hissing the unwanted truth through my teeth.
Finn froze.
I took advantage of his momentary pause and pushed against his chest one last time. He faltered, taking a half step back, giving me enough space to jump from the tailgate and run.
Finn didn’t give chase.
Probably because he knew something I’d realized far too late.
I had nowhere to go.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Finn
She killed herself.
I should have gone after Sawyer but her words were like a stake to my heart, freezing me in place. When I finally snapped out of it, she was gone.
Shit.
Sawyer had just suffered a concussion for fuck’s sake and now she was wandering around in yet another afternoon storm when the one the night before almost killed her.
Florida weather was unpredictable at best. The schizophrenic rain certainly wasn’t helping me find Sawyer any faster.
After searching the house and porch, I jogged over to her truck and yanked open the door.
Nothing.
Besides the yard, the swamp, or possibly hiding in the brush somewhere, there weren’t many other places she could be.
She could have hit her head and fallen into the water. Encounters with snakes, wild hogs, panthers, bobcats, or alligators. Fuck, the animal didn’t even have to be scary. The wrong mosquito bite could mean the end.
I made it around the house and immediately my eyes locked on my boat, teetering back and forth in the water as the rain created a wake where there usually wasn’t one.
Making my way over as fast as I could, I yanked the covering from the top and there she was.
I exhaled.
Soaking wet. Shaking. Holding her knees to her chest on the floor of the boat. Her teeth chattering louder than the rain splashing all around us.
She didn’t react when I lifted her into my arms. I cradled her shivering body against my chest and carried her up to the porch.
She still said nothing when I turned on the shower, stripped us both of our wet clothes and held her under the hot spray until I felt the trembling leave her body and her chattering stop.
I wrapped her in a clean towel, picked her up again and carried her to my room where we both got in bed and I tucked her warm naked body against mine.
There wasn’t much I could offer Sawyer, but what I could give her was distraction. I talked nonsense to her about everything and anything until she fell asleep.
The rain stopped completely.
The wind chimes on the porch sounded. The ones Jackie had made for our new house when we’d moved in together. It was the only possession of hers I’d taken with me to the swamp.
At first, they played just a sporadic note or two until it became a full-on symphony.
The music floated through the now eerily still night. Not a cricket could be heard. Not a frog croaked. Not a mosquito buzzed.
For hours it was just me, lying there wide awake with Sawyer in my arms while the chimes relentlessly reminded me of a past that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to forget.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sawyer
“Is it true that your RV got mangled by a twister?” Kayla asked, popping her gum and sticking a pen into the messy bun on top of her head.
It had been over a week since I’d seen Finn. I’d woken up alone the next morning and soon after, Josh had stopped by to check on me.
I’d been sleeping on the couch in her apartment ever since.
I’d gone back over to the swamp shack to thank Finn for saving me. Twice. But both times there was no sign of him.
The only reason I knew he’d been around at all was the blue tarp that had been placed over my wrecked camper.
“I don’t know if it was a tornado for sure, but something got it in the storm,” I said as I felt my heart sinking.
“Were you in it when it happened?” Maya asked, appearing with a tray of drinks in hand raised above her head.
“Yes, but luckily Finn pulled me out.”
If on cue, the band chose that very moment to stop playing. Kayla and Maya gasped in unison.
“He did what?” Missy asked in a whisper, over pouring a shot of whiskey. Amber liquid spilled over the rim of the shot glass and pooled on the bar. “Shit,” she swore.
“Ladies?” Critter raised his eyebrows at the girls who reluctantly picked up their trays and headed back to wait on their tables.
“Thanks,” I said, grateful to be out from under their scrutiny although I was sure I hadn’t heard the end of it.
“Finn, you say?” Critter asked, flipping a rag over his shoulder. “Haven’t seen that boy around in a while.”
