Chapter 52 Finn
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I don’t remember getting out of the car.
I don’t remember sprinting across the street.
All I remember is Kael’s voice through the phone, low and tight:
“We’re coming, Finn.”
After that, my brain just dissolves.
Atlas hits the building door first and disappears into the stairwell. Kael is right behind him, taking the stairs like he’s on autopilot.
I’m third.
Always third.
But not tonight.
Because something in my chest feels like it’s splitting open. Something sharp, something wrong. Something that doesn’t feel like worry—
It feels like fear.
Real fear.
Not the kind you joke through.
Not the kind you swallow.
The kind that makes your vision tunnel.
By the time I hit the third floor landing, Atlas is already at Wren’s door, chest heaving, hand wrapped around the knob.
“It’s unlocked,” he growls.
Unlocked?
No.
No way.
She locked it. We all watched her lock it. We heard the bolts scrape.
My skin goes cold.
Kael grabs Atlas’s wrist, stopping him from throwing the door open blindly. “Wait.”
I don’t wait.
I move beside them, heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to break free.
“WREN!” I yell.
No answer.
“Wren, please—” My voice cracks. “Say something.”
And then—
Her voice.
Faint.
Shaking.
“I’m here!”
Everything in me snaps.
“Move!” I shout.
Atlas doesn’t have to be told twice.
He kicks the door.
The frame splinters.
The deadbolt tears free.
The whole thing blasts inward, bouncing off the wall with a crash loud enough to shake the building.
And then—
I see her.
Wren.
Standing in the hallway, dripping wet, wrapped in a towel, chest rising and falling in panicked breaths.
Her eyes are wide—too wide—locking onto us like we’re life rafts thrown at a drowning person.
My stomach drops straight to the floor.
I don’t even see the rest of the apartment at first.
Just her.
Her shaking hands.
Her pale face.
Her wet hair sticking to her collarbone.
Her towel clutched so hard the knuckles are white.
Atlas barrels past me, scanning the apartment like he’s ready to rip the walls apart with his bare hands. Kael goes the opposite way, checking the bedroom, the bathroom, the windows.
Me?
I go to her.
My legs feel like they don’t belong to me.
“Wren,” I whisper.
She swallows, breath hitching, eyes glossy—not with tears, but with shock. Pure, absolute shock.
“Finn,” she says, and my entire chest caves in at the sound of my name in her voice.
I don’t touch her.
Not yet.
Not until she moves first.
Her fingers tremble, loosening at the edge of the towel, then tightening again.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, voice low, terrified to hear the answer.
She shakes her head.
But the way her eyes dart behind me—toward the bedroom—makes my heart plummet again.
Kael returns first.
His face is hard. Controlled. Too controlled.
“Window’s open,” he says.
My stomach twists.
Atlas storms out of the bedroom next, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are bloodless. “He was here.”
My vision goes white.
Wren flinches at the sound of his voice. Not because it’s him, but because of the rage in it.
I move closer. “Wren... look at me.”
She does.
Barely.
Like her eyes are too heavy.
“Did he touch you?” I whisper.
Her jaw trembles. “No.”
“Did he say something?”
A slow, tiny nod.
I want to break something.
I want to break him.
Kael’s voice cuts in, tight as a wire. “Atlas. Outside. Now.”
Atlas growls something low and violent but obeys, disappearing through the ruined doorway.
Kael turns to me. “Stay with her. Don’t let her move.”
Like I’m going anywhere.
I step into her space—slow, careful—and she doesn’t pull away.
Her breath stutters.
“Finn,” she whispers again.
And that’s it.
That’s the moment I break.
I reach out and gently—so gently it hurts—cup the side of her arm, skin warm from the shower and sticky with leftover steam.
“You’re okay,” I murmur. “I’m here. We’re all here.”
Her shoulders shudder.
She steps closer.
Just an inch.
Just enough.
Her forehead brushes my collarbone like her body decided before her brain did.
I catch her before she can fold.
One arm around her shoulders.
One hand at her back, fingers splayed, holding her towel in place so she doesn’t have to.
She lets out a sound—soft, small, horrible.
A sound I’ve never heard from her.
A sound that makes me want to burn the world down to keep her safe.
“I shouldn’t have stayed alone,” she chokes.
“No.” I press my cheek to her damp hair. “No, sweetheart. Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”
Her fingers fist in my shirt.
“He was in my room.”
I close my eyes.
Every muscle in my body tightens.
Kael returns, jaw clenched, phone in hand. “Ops is on the way. Police too.”
Wren stiffens instantly.
“No,” she whispers. “No cops.”
Kael’s eyes soften. “Wren—”
“No police,” she repeats, voice shaking but firm.
Kael nods once, understanding the trauma beneath the words. “Okay. Then ops only.”
Atlas reappears in the doorway, chest heaving like he ran a marathon in a single breath. His eyes lock onto Wren in my arms.
Rage.
Relief.
Fear.
All of it poured into one look.
He wipes his face with both hands like he can’t stand the feeling of his own skin.
“Get her dressed,” he mutters, voice shaking. “Then we’re leaving. All of us.”
Wren buries her face in my chest, trembling as the adrenaline finally breaks.
I hold her tighter.
Kael locks eyes with me.
Atlas locks eyes with her.
And I swear something wordless passes between all three of us—
We won’t fail her again.
Not tonight.
Not ever.