15. Kate
Kate
Iwoke to the sound of something hitting the wall.
For a few moments, I lay still in the darkness, disoriented. Noah was asleep in his cot and my heart was already beginning to race.
What if they had found us? Where was Finn?
Another noise, that time it was a strangled sound.
My stomach dropped.
Finn.
Careful not to wake Noah, I slipped out of bed and cracked the bedroom door open. The hallway was dark except for the faint light spilling from beneath the spare room door.
Another strangled sound came from inside, but it wasn’t anger, it sounded like pain.
I crept down the hallway and pushed the door open slowly.
Finn thrashed against the sheets, sweat soaking through his T-shirt, one hand clenched so tightly in the blankets his knuckles were white.
“Don’t,” he rasped. “Stop. You’re hurting me?—”
“Finn?”
His breathing turned ragged, panic twisting across his face like he was trapped somewhere far away.
“Finn.” I moved closer carefully. “Hey, wake up.”
The second my hand touched his arm, his eyes flew open. Before I could react, Finn grabbed my wrist hard enough to make me gasp.
His chest heaved, his eyes wide and darting around the room. For one terrifying second, I didn’t think he recognized me. Then his eyes locked onto mine and the grip vanished. I backed up towards the door, ready to bolt if things got violent.
“Fuck.” He jumped out of bed and took two steps towards me. I backed up out of instinct and he froze. “Fuck. Kate?—”
“I’m okay,” I said quickly, even though my heart was hammering and my wrist was sore.
Finn dragged both hands over his face, breathing hard like he couldn’t get enough air.
“You were dreaming,” I said.
“I know what it was.” His voice came out rough and exhausted.
I stayed where I was instead of moving closer again, because giving him space felt important.
Finn stared down at the floorboards. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
His shoulders loosened slightly, and a long silence stretched between us before he muttered, “Used to happen more.”
I leaned carefully against the doorframe. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Wasn’t a dream worth telling.”
He still wouldn’t look at me, his eyes focused on the floor as his hands pulled at his hair.
After seeing him like that, I understood something important about Finn. It wasn’t just that he protected people, it was that nobody had ever protected him.
“You’re safe here,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
Finn finally looked up at me. His mouth opened and closed like he didn’t know what to do with those words.
Neither did I, honestly. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to smile, but I think it looked more like a grimace.
“You should go back to bed,” he said, slumping down onto the bed.
I should have. I should have turned around, closed the door behind me and gone back to bed. Instead, I crossed the room slowly and sat beside him on the edge of the mattress.
Finn went completely still.
Carefully, like I was giving him the choice to move away, I rested my hand lightly over his. He stared down at it for a long moment, then his fingers turned and threaded through mine. Neither of us moved.
The room stayed quiet except for Finn’s breathing slowly evening out beside me. His hand was rough and warm against mine, though I could still feel the panic lingering in him like it hadn’t fully let go yet.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said eventually, but his fingers tightened slightly around mine when he said it.
“I know.” Still, I didn’t let go.
Finn leaned forward slowly, elbows braced against his knees while our hands stayed linked between us. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then softly, almost like the words hurt coming out, he admitted, “Wasn’t always dreams.”
I looked at him carefully but didn’t push.
Finn swallowed hard once. “Sometimes it was real.”
Suddenly, I understood just how much pain he carried around inside himself every single day. Without thinking, I shifted closer, our thighs touching. Finn went tense for half a second before the tension slowly eased back out of him again.
His thumb brushed once against mine before he muttered, “You should really go back to bed.”
A small smile pulled at my mouth. “You keep saying that.”
That earned the faintest huff of laughter from him.
Eventually, Finn let go of my hand first, though his fingers lingered against mine for half a second too long.
“You should sleep,” he said.
That time I didn’t argue.
Finn stood slowly and walked me back down the hallway without saying much.
At the bedroom door, I turned toward him. Finn’s gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before shifting away again.
“Night, Kate.”
“Goodnight, Finn.”
He waited until I climbed back into bed before softly shutting the door behind him.