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“I really am sorry, Rax. I’m just so fucking miserable. I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.”
“Just chill. I told you; you’ll live if you just do what I tell you.”
Finn draws in a deep breath, holds it, then blows it out slowly as he nods, eyes brimming with tears. I swear he should be all cried out by now.
Inclining my head to the door, I say, “Come on. I’ll make you a sandwich or some shit. Zeke will be over soon. Sit and be quiet. Or sleep. Or whatever you want to do. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
Again, Finn nods and we head downstairs. After we eat the sandwiches I prepared, I toss him the remote and settle into the couch. I try to run my fingers through my hair, but it’s tangled at the ends from me not brushing it after my shower.
Pulling the strands over my shoulder, I try to finger comb it, getting the bigger knots out, but the rest form a bit of a nest at the ends of my hair. Snarling, I toss them back over my shoulder, irritated as I watch whatever reality show Finn put on.
“I can help,” he mutters. I look over at him and see him twisting his hands in his lap.
“What?”
He points to the twisted hair over my shoulder. “I can brush it. Get the knots out. I can be gentle. I can … get them out. If you have a brush.”
“Upstairs in my bag. Come on.” I hold my hand out instead of grabbing him like I normally would. With wide eyes, he places a shaky hand in mine and lets me drag him behind me up the stairs.
“You can leave me downstairs. I told you I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
Snorting, I say, “Yeah, well, we both have to learn to trust each other. I haven’t gotten to that point just yet. So shut your mouth and follow me.”
Finn does what I say, following behind me without complaint as I rifle through the bag to find the brush Shane packed. With it in hand, I motion for him to go back down the stairs. Finn sits cross legged on the couch, wringing his hands in his lap. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wish I could see inside his mind to figure out where it is. Is he trusting that I won’t hurt him and will stay put? I wasn’t lying when I said I would let him go. I just hope he actually believes it.
Tossing him the brush, I sit on the floor in front of him and close my eyes. I feel the soft tugging of the brush gliding through my hair and relax. It’s been years since someone has taken care of me like this. He may not be doing it because he likes me, but it feels good, nonetheless.
To my surprise, Finn starts to hum. His voice is pleasant and the scraping of the brush against my scalp makes my eyes start to droop. With the running, the driving, the worry, and stress of being caught, I’m … tired. I’m exhausted. I just want to rest.
My head drops back on the couch and I’m out before I know it.
Loud knocking at the door has me hopping to my feet, hands raised in front of me. I recover when I hear a whimper behind me. Turning, I see Finn with his hand on his chest and a sleepy look on his face. The brush is beside him on the couch and there’s a discarded blanket on the floor.
Did he cover me while I was asleep?
The knocking sounds again and I whip my head to the door. My heart starts to gallop in my chest and I’m about to tell Finn to collect his things and we head out the back until I see the brown face of my best friend peeking through the side window by the door.
Sighing, I hustle to the door and let him in. With a shit eating grin, Zeke says, “You looked cozy there. I almost didn’t want to wake you.”
Grinning, I pull him in for a hug. Even though I saw him yesterday, it’s nice to hug my best friend without guards telling us to separate.
“I haven’t had a good amount of sleep in forever. You could have given me a few more minutes.”
Zeke cackles, slapping me on the back as he moves past me. “Hey, Huck. Have a good nap?”
“Fine,” Finn whispers, tucking his legs closer to him. “Do you want me to go upstairs? I can give you both some time to talk or whatever.”
“That would be great, Huck. Before you go,” Zeke says before handing him a bag, “this is for you. Some clothes and shit that should fit. And something extra.” He winks and Finn stands.
“Wait,” I say. This time, I do grab his arm and escort him to his room. He starts to protest, but I give him a hard look, making him clamp his mouth shut. “You’ll be here for an hour or two. The TV works. Turn it on to something that will keep your attention for a while.”
Making sure he’s secure, I look down at him, seeing his eyes averted from me, staring at the bag he dropped by the door. I place it on the bed near him and leave the room.
Jogging down the stairs, I see Zeke has made himself at home, cooking something that smells fucking phenomenal. “Hope you’re making enough for all of us.”
He chuckles. “Yep. And enough to last you for a few days. Or you can freeze it and eat it some other time. I know you can’t cook for shit.”
“I’ve also been in prison for seven years. My companion can’t cook either.”
