“No one knew because I hid it. Dale only found out because of Tim.” At my frown, he continued, “The foster he lost.”
Oh, damn. I studied the empty twin bed in his room, realizing I had never put one thought into it before. They were roommates.
“He saw the same behavior, I guess.” Finn shook his head. “He caught me shortly after the fire. You remember?”
With Ethan. How could I ever forget? “Yeah.”
“I finally stopped about six months later, but,” his voice cracked, “the need—it’s still there. Like it won’t let go of me, Johnny.”
Up until now, in my eyes, Finn was the guy who had it all together. His only downfall was being a grumpy asshole. How wrong I had been.
Lightning struck my soul again and took away my blindness. Now my heart hurt for him. “The urge?” I asked, somewhat understanding him because I felt the same about the recurring rage that I fought every now and then to control every day. Even though my old life felt far away, the roots of that lifetime were still in my blood. Always would be. That meant Finn and I each had different demons, but they still tried to control us. “That’s why you’re holding it.”
“Yeah.” After a weighted pause, he tilted his head as he stared at me. “Will you take it, Johnny? I don’t think stopping will work if I throw it away. I’ll just grab another one. But, somehow, if you have it, it’s like you’re saving it for me, not because I’ll use it,” he was quick to explain, “but so I won’t be tempted to do more than hold it.”
Jesus. That gutted me while it also filled me with such fucking pride. Finn was trying to beat this hold over him, and he’d asked for my help. Thank fuck he was strong enough to reach out for it.
“Of course.” I took the blade and reached for a tissue from the box on his dresser. Wrapping it up, I folded my fist around it. Not the damaged right hand, but the left that couldn’t be pried loose.
Finn stared at my hand and cleared his throat. “I never told Dale why.” His eyes slowly shifted up to my face. “Maybe I felt too ashamed.” He blinked, and I nodded with understanding. “But I need to say it, Johnny. I don’t want it to hold on to me the way it has the entire time I’ve fucking lived here.” His fingers curled into fists. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
“Then don’t give it power, Finn,” I encouraged him, knowing neither of us would ever be the same after learning another dark truth. But exposing it, shoving it into the open where light could cover it was probably the only way Finn would ever begin to heal.
I remembered when Dale told us about Tim, although he never said his name, and Finn’s reaction. How he paled and looked almost broken by what Dale revealed.
“My dad’s brother, my uncle,” Finn began, his voice cracking, “used to sneak into my room when he visited after shifts at his work. He was a chef assistant, always dressed in black.”
Oh my God. This is why he hates the color black.
The horror of that truth sank in as a sob let loose from Finn’s chest. I’d never had real contact with Finn before, but I did this day. I yanked him into a hug, embracing him as he broke down, words spilling from his mouth that I would never dare repeat. Memories of late-night visits, of pain-filled encounters, and a secret that nearly destroyed a young man’s soul.
Finn’s parents never knew. They died in a car accident, never knowing the truth about what his uncle had been doing to their son. And when it came time to figure out where Finn might live, the uncle did the unthinkable.
“He tried to get custody,” Finn cried. “But I finally told, Johnny.” His words were almost too low to hear. “I told the social worker what he did to me.”
Still holding him, I swore, “I’m so fucking glad you did, Finn.”
He sniffled and pulled back, swiping under his eyes to dash the tears from his lighter skin. “During court, it was Kristen, Johnny. She’s the one who brought me here. To Dale, Harmony, the other fosters, and, eventually, you.”
It didn’t surprise me about Kristen. That woman was truly remarkable, a champion for those without a voice. Someone who genuinely fought to make a difference.
“Where you belong,” I fiercely replied, realizing something amazing and almost magical had happened since arriving at this house. Whether it was fate, divine intervention, or a mystical force, we’d been brought together for a reason.
Illusion or imagination… Did it matter when souls were connected?
“I believe I do, Johnny.”
And then… he tried to kiss me.
I leapt from the bed, my back slamming into a wall. Loudly, I asked, “What are you doing?”
He stood, then asshole Finn had returned. He yelled, “Isn’t it obvious?”
His anger made no sense to me. Stepping forward, I yelled back, “I thought I was helping you?”
His nostrils flared, practically exhaling fire. “I thought so, too.”
Dumbfounded. I was utterly dumbfounded. “Then why did you try to—you know.” ?1
