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Chapter Eighteen
Abel
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Iknock on the door, my heart beating a million miles a minute. It took Chuck a few days to track down Finley’s apartment, but eventually he was able to locate the address where her driver’s license is registered. An apartment off Birch, just like Finley had said.
I have no idea what I’m going to say to her when I see her. How I’m going to explain how I found her, but right now all that matters is that I do. And as soon as I see her face, I know the rest will come to me.
I wait in agonizing silence for several long moments before knocking again. That’s when I hear it, light footsteps padding toward the door.
When the lock clicks and the door begins to open, I can’t remember how to breathe. Unfortunately, when a face comes into view, it’s not the face I’ve waited weeks to see.
“Hi.” I’m greeted by a young woman with blonde hair and big green eyes. Finley’s eyes.
“Claire?” I take a wild guess.
“Yeah.” She nods. “Do I know you?” She glances down the hallway in both directions to see if I’m alone.
“No, you don’t. But I know your sister, Finley.”
She takes one long look at me, a slow smile forming on her lips.
“You’re Abel.”
I don’t pretend that the fact she knows who I am comes as a surprise because it does. If she knows who I am, that means Finley told her about me. This knowledge makes me feel like a fucking giddy teenager.
“I am,” I confirm after a long pause. “I’m sorry to show up like this, but I was hoping I could speak to Finley.”
She gives me a sympathetic look.
“She’s not here.”
“Do you know when she’s coming home?”
“She’s, um, away for a while.” She stumbles over her words.
“Okay,” I draw out. “How long is she going to be gone?”
“A few weeks, maybe longer.”
My heart sinks into my stomach.
“Oh.” I try to mask my disappointment with an easy smile, but I’m pretty sure she sees right through it.
“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear you stopped by though.”
“Is there any way I can get her number from you? I’d really like the chance to speak to her.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to give out her number without speaking to her first.” She shakes her head slowly. “But if you want to leave your number with me I’d be happy to pass it along.”
“Yeah, okay. That would be great.”
She pulls her phone out of her pocket and slides her finger across the screen.
“Go ahead.” She waits for me to ramble off the number, typing it into her phone as I do. “There. Got it.” She locks her phone and shoves it back into her pocket.
“You’ll make sure she gets it?”
