Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
FINN
There’s something wrong with me. I’m sure of it.
Because as J is bending over, hand to her heart, struggling to breathe, she looks up at me with an expression of pure, unadulterated hatred.
And I want to kiss her right then and there, in front of my brothers. In front of the world.
Is this what Dutch felt when he saw Cadence at that showcase last August?
Is this what turned Zane into a lovesick fool after one night with Miss Jamieson?
I don’t think this is love. The novels I’ve read all mention butterflies in the stomach, being dazzled, breathless, and nervous.
This dark, twisted pulsing in my chest is nothing like the books described.
“Do you hear something beeping?” Zane comments from the doorway. “A fire alarm?”
“Wasn’t me,” Sol answers quickly.
“It sounds quieter than an alarm,” Dutch says. And then his eyes narrow on J. “It’s coming from her.”
J’s feet suddenly give out, and she crumples. Seeing that she’s going to hit the floor any second, I catch her by the shoulders.
Dutch, Zane, and Sol run into the room.
“Is she dead?” Zane asks, glancing between me and the barely conscious J.
Dutch looks at me strangely.
Sol does the same.
Do they think I killed her?
“Her chest is moving,” Sol mutters as he stares below J’s neck.
I realize what he’s looking at. J’s shirt is still unbuttoned, exposing her creamy skin.
In one quick motion, I scoop her into my arms and hide her against me. The thought of any other guy getting to see what I saw, what I touched, and what—I’ve just decided—I will eventually taste sends flames roaring through my chest.
Dutch takes one look at my face and does a double take. “Finn?”
“I think he’s… angry?” Zane mutters.
Sol laughs nervously. “Out of everything that’s happened tonight, this is the freakiest.”
I ignore their remarks. If I don’t do something, J really might die.
“Dutch,” I growl.
My brother stands taller.
“We need to get her to the hospital.”
At that moment, police sirens erupt outside. Blue and red lights flash in the distance.
Sol turns antsy. “The cops.”
“Go. I’ll stick around and deal with them,” Zane offers.
I nod my thanks.
Zane pats my shoulder and leaves first.
We hurry in the opposite direction. Dutch leads the way to his car, and Sol opens the back door of the truck. He extends his hands, offering to take J.
I scowl at him, and he immediately withdraws, holding up both arms in surrender. “All right, Finn. Chill. Do your thing.”
I climb into the car and set J in my lap.
“Get off,” she argues weakly.
I relax my grip on her in case I’m hurting her, but I don’t let go. “You can either fight me or catch your breath. Pick one.”
J pries her mouth apart and gathers enough breath to rasp, “Screw… you.”
I smile. So she would rather fight me and die.
Interesting.
“I’m so confused by all of this,” Sol mumbles to Dutch. “Who’s that chick again? Where did she come from?”
Dutch grunts. “I have no idea.”
“Has Finn ever brought a girl around?” Sol scratches his head. “I’m thinking, and I genuinely can’t remember one time.”
“She’s the first,” Dutch confirms.
“So are they just screwing or are they dating?” Sol asks Dutch as if I’m not there.
Dutch grunts. “The hell am I supposed to know? Ask him.”
Sol flops lower in the passenger seat. “He’s not going to say. He doesn’t tell us anything.”
That’s true, but it’s not because I don’t trust them. There are certain experiences not even my brothers and Sol understand.
They drive quietly for a moment, while I look down at J curiously. Is she really going to die in my arms tonight?
I don’t know how I feel about that.
“I’m going to ask him,” Sol whispers to Dutch.
“He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
“How long until he’s ready? He even brought her to Redwood.”
“We don’t know why he did that. She didn’t say anything to us,” Dutch reminds him. “And he didn’t bring her into the practice room either. Maybe it’s not serious.”
“Not serious? He was basically climbing inside her in the classroom.” Sol sounds perturbed. “I’m going to ask him.”
“Sol,” Dutch hisses.
“Finn,” Sol says over my brother. “Who’s the girl?”
I look blankly at him.
Sol pushes out his bottom lip. “Should I ask her?”
J is currently too busy coiled into a ball on my lap to answer.
“She’s a heart patient,” I say to Sol.
“Why are you hanging out with a heart patient all of a sudden?”
Because she’s Jinx and I’m going to prove it.
“She’s how we’ll find the girls,” I say confidently.
Dutch almost slams on the brakes. “What are you talking about?”
“I got the recording of Mom because of her. She hacked into the system.”
Dutch’s eyes widen, and he flashes a hopeful look at J through the rearview mirror. “She can do that?”
I dip my chin. Jinx has already displayed her prowess. I don’t doubt her abilities, only her intentions.
Sol turns fully around, his nose scrunched. “Are you sure it was her?”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” I reply tightly. “You think I’d make that up?”
“No, it’s just that… she’s so…” Sol looks over J’s body.
My fingers coil into fists.
Sol had feelings for Cadence from the moment he met her. Dutch never addressed it—perhaps to keep the peace, but I am not so benevolent.
If Sol expresses interest in J, I will drag it out in the open and solve it with a fight if I have to. Then, when the matter is settled and it’s clear that Sol cannot have her, we will both continue being friends.
I’ve read many romance novels, and I hate love triangles the most.
“Tiny.” Sol frowns.
Tiny?
I’m confused, so it takes me a moment to tap back into the conversation.
Sol shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s just weird. Aren’t hackers usually… I don’t know… goth?”
My lips curl up.
I worried for nothing.
Amused, I compare how long my arm is to J’s. I am, quite literally, twice her size. “She is pretty small.”
“And she’s not even wearing glasses. All the hackers in the movies wear glasses.”
“Idiot,” J mumbles with her eyes closed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Her voice is too low for Sol to hear, but I smile slightly.
Dutch’s voice rings with determination. “If she hacked the system, how soon can she do it again?”
“We can discuss our next steps later. First”—I adjust my arms around J’s waist— “she needs to see a doctor or she might die before she even starts on the algorithm.”
“I’m not dead yet,” J grumbles.
I lift my elbow and adjust her so she’s sitting more upright. “Do I need to call the hospital so they can have a team ready?”
“Now you care?”
“I wouldn’t say I care,” I answer honestly.
But maybe I do.
I want to see what happens when the watch turns red. So then, by the definition of the word, I am invested in her not dying unless I am the cause of it.
“I need water,” she croaks.
Dutch motions to the center console. “I’ve got bottles in here.”
Sol pops the storage open and produces a water bottle. I take it from him and offer it to J. She takes it and then dips into her cross-body bag for a clear packet of pills.
“You had medication?” I ask, surprised. Why didn’t she take it from the first moment she started experiencing symptoms in the classroom?
J puts the pill on her tongue but has trouble opening the bottle of water. Taking the bottle away from her, I unscrew the cap. She takes a big swig, and a few droplets dribble down her chin.
I easily swipe it away.
J bats my hand like I’m a mosquito, but that’s about all the fight she has left because she wilts against me, settling right against the crook of my shoulder and neck like she was made to fit there.
A strange silence buzzes around me.
When I look up, Dutch jerks his head around to focus on the road while Sol brushes invisible dirt from his jacket.
Neither of them make another comment until we get to the hospital.