Chapter 19
Finn
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Finn barely slept. Every time he drifted off, the memory of Kallie's voice, her scent, and the warmth of her presence in his house woke him. By dawn, he dragged himself out of bed, wrung out from too much awareness. He'd spent years in numbness that protected him, and now he felt everything.
But he had no fucking clue what was making him crazy.
He stepped into the kitchen and found her already awake, sitting at the table with her knees pulled up, hair mussed from sleep. The sight of her hit him low and hard. She looked soft in the morning light, warm in a way that made his chest tighten.
"Morning," she said.
He grunted and moved past her to the counter. "Hungry?"
"Mm hm."
He could feel her eyes on him. "Oatmeal?"
"Sure."
He went through the motions. It wasn't hard. Instead of one bowl, he made two. He stood on the other side of the counter, close enough to breathe her in.
Breakfast was quiet. Every scrape of her spoon, every brush of her fingers against the table, every shift of her body sent a jolt through him. He tried not to look at her, but his eyes kept drifting back.
She tucked her hair behind her ear before she dipped her head to take a bite off her spoon. Her lips puckered, blew, and then opened to retrieve each bite.
When they finished eating, she set her bowl aside and folded her hands on the table. "What have you been doing the last four years?"
"Four?" He grabbed the dish, turned his back, and washed it in the sink before turning back around. "I do the same thing every day. It doesn't matter how many years have passed."
"Well, what would you usually do now, since breakfast is over?"
He looked toward the door. Usually, he walked to the old feed store and carved another line on a piece of wood, marking another day without Kallie. But since she was in Everstill, there was no need to keep track of the days.
There was no reason to go outside and wander around town or talk with Moe. Everything had changed with the arrival of Kallie.
"What have you been doing?" he muttered.
She talked about the roads she'd walked, the places she'd lived, and the jobs she'd held.
About the nights she'd slept in a shelter before renting an apartment, and the moments she'd almost given up but didn't because she wanted to find her way back to him.
She spoke quietly, without shame. She'd been out there fighting to survive. Fighting for him.
"I never told anyone about you," she whispered.
"Why not?"
She looked at the counter before raising her gaze to him.
"I didn't want to share you with anyone, in case they told me I was crazy for feeling a connection to a man I met as a child and had seen only twice in my life, in a different dimension.
" She leaned forward. "I was a foster kid. Who would believe me?"
He rounded the counter. He brushed the inside of her elbow with the pad of his thumb. Her skin was warm. One more step and he could have her body against his.
His cock pulsed to life. He gritted his teeth. The change in his body pained him.
"Finn?" she whispered.
He should pull away. Instead, he circled her bicep with his hand, running his fingers against her bare skin. How could he have forgotten what it felt like to touch a woman?
His balls ached. Sex used to be on his mind every fucking second. Had he even thought about it since coming to Everstill?
"Did you ever think about me?" she asked softly.
His chest locked up. "There's nothing to tell."
She frowned. "Finn—"
"I said there's nothing." He looked into her eyes. "Nothing ever fucking changes here, except you coming to me."
The words came out harsher than he meant. She flinched, and guilt stabbed him.
"Are you saying no one has come through the rift, except me, in the last four years?" she whispered.
He exhaled. "Yeah."
"Oh, Finn." She planted her hand on his chest. "Help me understand."
He opened his mouth to make more sense when he gave up, leaned in, and kissed her.
His mouth found hers in the faintest touch, a hesitant brush that barely counted as a kiss. A jolt moved through him, and he held himself back. He was afraid of hurting her.
His shoulders tightened. Something deep within him responded to her taste, a memory of closeness he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.
He drew back a fraction, eyes searching hers, the truth of who stood in front of him settling over him with unexpected weight.
This wasn't just anyone.
This was Kallie. The warmth of her mouth, the gentle pressure, the way she breathed his name grabbed him by the balls.
Heat surged through him. He lifted his hands and cupped her face, holding her close.
He hadn't been touched like this in...he didn't know how long. Years. Decades. Maybe longer. Everstill had stripped time from him, stripped feelings from him, stripped everything except survival.
This was too much.
He broke away, breath ragged, stumbling back to get away from her. If he continued, he'd hurt her. He didn't need his memories to know he was raging to fuck, and he would not be gentle. There was nothing soft about him.
"Kallie—" His voice cracked. "We can't."
Her brows wrinkled. Hurt flickered across her face.
His chest felt too tight, his skin too hot, his thoughts too loud. He didn't know how to handle this. He didn't know how to handle her. He didn't know how to handle the way that kiss had lit him up from the inside out.
He turned away, gripping the edge of the counter until his knuckles went white.
He wanted her.
He wanted her so fucking bad.
Gentle hands landed on his back, burning his skin through his shirt. He swiveled and walked out of the room, leaving her behind.
He made it to the bathroom, shutting himself in. The door was cool against his back. He kept his expression neutral. A sharp contrast to the heat pooling low in his stomach. He stumbled forward, looking in the mirror.
He exhaled through his nose, pressing his forehead against the glass. His reflection blurred under the condensation from his breath. "Fuck," he muttered, fingers digging into the edge of the sink.
Since Kallie arrived, an itch had built under his skin, a relentless throb between his legs that made breathing difficult and stole his thoughts. Every second was torture. Now, finally alone, he only knew one thing that would bring him some relief.
His belt buckle clattered against the tile as he yanked it open, jeans shoved down just enough to pull out his cock. The first touch was electric, rough and hurried, his grip tight. He bit his lip to stifle a groan.
Finn's hand moved with a desperation that bordered on violence, the friction almost painful in its intensity.
His breathing came in ragged bursts, each exhale fogging the mirror further until his own reflection disappeared entirely.
He stroked his cock in punishment, knowing what he wanted to do to Kallie.
Images of her naked, spread out on the bed, begging him. His strokes shortened. He imagined himself deep inside of her, making her moan. His grip tightened as he fantasized about her pussy squeezing him.
The sharp scent of his arousal mixed with the sterile cleanliness of the bathroom. His toes curled, trying to break through his boots.
His hips jerked forward involuntarily, chasing the pressure of his grip. Lights flashed in his vision, showing him shit that had already happened—Kallie grabbing him, screaming his name, the veil opening behind her. He pushed her away from him.
Now, in the dim glow of the bathroom, it wasn't her name on his tongue—just the raw hunger that had coiled inside him the moment Kallie came back to him looking all grown up.
A drop of sweat dripped off his temple. His muscles tensed, thighs trembling with the effort of holding himself upright against the sink.
The porcelain dug into his hipbone, a grounding pain amidst the rising storm of sensations gripping him.
A slow, insistent tension pulled tight inside him, achingly familiar.
His breath hitched, and his fingers squeezed bruises into his skin.
His knees buckled. A choke escaped his throat as he came in thick, pulsing stripes across The sink. For a moment, he stood there, panting, forehead pressed to the now-warm mirror, aftershocks twitching through him.
The silence that followed was thick. There was no peace. It was less about surrender than relief.
Finn stared at the mess he'd made, streaks glistening in the light. The cleanup was mechanical, his movements sluggish as if his body had already begun to resent him for the momentary lapse in control.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything for pleasure. Definitely not while living in Everstill.
He caught his reflection again as the steam dissipated.
Dark circles under his eyes and hair mussed from where he'd dragged his fingers through it.
The face staring back looked less like a man who'd found relief and more like someone who'd barely survived a fight.
He turned the faucet on, icy water shocking his skin as he rinsed his hands, then splashed it over his face. The cold steadied his breathing.
A knock at the door nearly sent him out of his skin. "Finn?" Kallie's voice was muffled but unmistakable. "There are a bunch of men outside the house."
The mirror had cleared enough to show the flush still high on his cheeks and the dampness at his temples. He smoothed a hand over his hair, tugging it back into some semblance of order, then adjusted his clothes with quick, jerky movements.
He opened the door without looking at her. "Stay inside. I'll deal with them."
As he stepped out of the house, he instantly knew something was wrong. The wind had picked up, and dark clouds were rolling in.
He looked over his shoulder to make sure Kallie hadn't followed him. He wasn't going to let her go back. It was too dangerous.
"Is the seam opening?" Moe shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Can we go through?"
Nolan looked up at the sky. "We should try before it changes."
"Hold on." Boone's voice shook, a contradiction to the tough, tattooed exterior. "Maybe it's opening for the woman."
"Yeah, let's make her go through first." Rex took two steps toward the door before Finn planted a hand in the middle of his chest to stop him.
"No one is going through," said Copper, joining the others. "Go home. Sleep. Tomorrow we can all go to work and forget what is happening."
Finn stayed outside until they'd all left. He watched the sky, the road, and the house. There was no way in hell he was going to let Kallie anywhere near the rift.
Eventually, total darkness fell, and the stars came out. The wind died down. He could feel his heartbeat again.