Page 15 of Finn's Future

He stood tall, took care of what he could, made sure I had a roof over my head and money in my pocket.

Not for me, maybe, but for Noah. Because Caleb was that kind of man, the kind who never turned his back on blood, and that made losing him hurt even more. Because I knew he would’ve been a good father if he’d had the chance.

Still, that didn’t stop the guilt. The ache that whispered I wasn’t enough. That I was too broken, too scarred to be worth more than obligation.

Which was why it felt so wrong that every time Finn looked at me, something deep inside me sparked. I didn’t know him.

He could be like the rest, or he could be worse. A biker with a patch on his back and violence in his blood. I’d learned not to romanticize men just because they looked good and spoke calmly.

But Finn hadn’t touched me when he walked in, saw too much and when he could’ve let his gaze linger. He’d looked away, stepped back, and put distance between us. That shouldn’t have meant anything more than him being a good person, yet it did.

I’d caught the heat in his eyes before he shut it down. It had flared hot and then he’d closed it off.

Noah made a soft sound in his sleep, a tiny sigh. I froze, praying that he didn’t start screaming, then leaned over him, smoothing my hand over his chest until he settled. I couldn’t afford to want anything more, not when everything I had to lose was sleeping inches away from me.

At that moment, everything came down to a test. A piece of paper that would decide if they believed me.

I knew what it would say. I’d never doubted it, not once. Noah was Caleb’s, but knowing didn’t seem to matter, becauseuntil they saw it, until they had proof, I was still just a stranger with a story.

Someone they could turn away.

What if something went wrong? What if it came back wrong somehow, like a mistake, mixed samples.

No. I pushed the thought away hard.

The truth was the truth, but it didn’t stop the fear that kept me awake, because if they didn’t believe me, I had nobody else to turn to.

I rolled onto my side carefully, trying not to wake Noah. The motel room was dim except for the weak light near the bathroom door. Finn was still in the chair, his eyes locked on the window.

I frowned slightly. “How are you even awake?” I whispered.

His eyes shifted to me immediately. “Who says I am?”

“You answered too fast for someone sleeping.”

A quiet sound left him, almost a laugh. “I sleep light.”

My gaze drifted towards the knife resting beside him on the small table. Then to the way he sat facing the door instead of the bed.

Always listening. Always waiting.

“You don’t have to stay awake all night,” I said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I kinda do.”

“For us?”

Finn rubbed a hand over the back of his neck before answering. “For the kid.”

The room settled back into silence. Outside, tyres hissed along wet pavement somewhere down the road. Noah shifted in his sleep, making a soft sound.

Finn looked over instantly, checking the cot before relaxing again once Noah settled. He probably didn’t even realize he’d done it.

“You’re tired,” I said quietly.

“So are you.”

“That obvious?”