Page 186 of Finch

“Well, I’ll try it, anyway.” Hugh wrung his hands. The headlights were getting larger. It wouldn’t

be long at all before the next vehicle arrived. “Thank you both for running interference. From

here on out, I’ll be with Finch. If there are any urgent messages you need to pass along, please

have them delivered to one of the staff.”

“You got it.” Ignatius shooed him off with a wave of his hand. “Now get going before they get

here and rope you into staying. And give our best to Finch.”

“I will.”

Hugh hurried off, but on his way into his lair, he heard his brother cuss. “Jessica just sent a

text to let me know that Chaucer has eaten the decorative candle.”

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Christ. I’ll have you know that this is your fault. I never ate candles as a kid. Finch has the

right idea. Next time, I want a baby.”

Alistair chuckled. “Of course, my love. I’ll see what I can do.”

Hugh shut the door and hurried for the staircase, but whether it was by virtue of the marijuana

he’d ingested or the conversation he’d overheard, he felt much better about fatherhood.

* * *

Hugh was assailed by a pillow when he stepped through the bedroom door. It hit him squarely

in the face and chased a shriek out of him before it tumbled to the floor. The pillow-thrower,

Finch, glared at him, then sank onto the bed and screamed through his teeth. Everard had

taken shelter within a makeshift bunker made of two tall dressers, the girls’ cage, and a large

painting he’d removed from the wall that was acting like a roof. Several pillows were piled

before the front-facing dresser. One pillow was on the painting.

Everard peered at Hugh through the bars of the cage. “Help.”

Hugh stood stunned for a moment, taking in the scene before him, then collected the pillow at

his feet and the ones scattered around Everard’s bunker. He returned all of them to Finch, who

appeared to be in the throes of a contraction and didn’t see him there.

“You must be tolerant of Everard, my love,” Hugh said as he set the pillows on the bed. “As

pesky as he can be, he’s the only doctor we have.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Finch replied through clenched teeth, “Fuck that.”

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