Page 63 of Finn's Future

None of this was about me anyway. Not Finn. Not heartbreak. Not humiliation.

Everything came back to Noah.

As long as he was safe, I could survive the rest. I’d survived worse than a bruised heart.

The truck slowed as the road narrowed again.

“We’re close,” the prospect muttered from the front.

I nodded even though he wasn’t really speaking to me.

The trees had grown so thick now, they blocked most of the fading evening light. Shadows stretched between the trunks like something waiting. If someone had told me six months ago this would be my life, I would’ve laughed in their face.

Now, I was just tired. The kind of tired that settled deep in your bones and stayed there. I closed my eyes for one second.

Finn’s face appeared. His mouth against mine. His hand tangled in the sheets. The way he’d looked at me like he wanted me.

Then . . .

“She means nothing to me.”

My eyes snapped open.

No!

I straightened immediately, shoving the thought away.

Whatever had happened between us was over. It had to be. I couldn’t afford to want someone who could hurt me that easily. And I definitely couldn’t afford to trust him with what was left of me.

The trees finally thinned enough for the cabin to appear ahead. Small. Isolated. One dim porch light glowed against the dark.

No nearby houses except the prospects’ place somewhere farther down the road.

Just woods. Silence. And us.

The truck slowed to a stop. Behind us, Keno’s bike engine rumbled louder before cutting off completely.

I stared at the cabin as unease slid beneath my skin. Not because of the place itself, but because of the stillness. It felt too quiet, like the woods were listening.

Noah stirred again, and I reached for him automatically.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered.

As I lifted Noah’s car seat out the back, one thing settled heavily in my chest. Finn might have made me feel safe, but I was done mistaking that security for something I could keep.

Chapter 28

Finn

The cabin sat deep in the pines on private land the club used when things needed to disappear for a while.

No traffic. No nearby houses. Just trees, cold air, and the occasional crackle from the firewood stacked beside the porch.

Inside, I could hear Lucy talking quietly to Kate while Noah babbled somewhere in the background.

I stayed outside. The porch steps creaked beneath me as I leaned forward, elbows braced on my knees, staring into the dark tree line beyond the clearing.

Farther down the road, the prospects rotated watch outside the smaller cabin while Keno stayed here with Kate and Noah. Keeping them safe. That was the point. So, why did everything still feel off?