25. Finn
After ditching his Jeep at the steps of the main lodge, Finn took the stairs into the building in twos, ran down the hallway, then burst through the library doors.
His body ached with every step from the stitches, and his heart was racing, not from the effort of running but from the anxiety coiling in his chest.
Something was wrong.
Because he had given his communicator to Lucie, he couldn’t call Sabrina and let her know what happened after the mission. Legion agents were close. If they hadn’t saved the Reinhards that night, they would all be going to a funeral instead.
The clock in the hallway ticked past midnight. Sabrina was going to kill him; she’d be ready to chew him out in front of everyone during the “After Mission Report”.
If he thought about Lucie, he would spiral again, so he chose to focus on those menial problems he used to have instead. Problems involving being late to a meeting and losing his communicator.
As he rounded the corner into the meeting room, his breath caught. The library was empty and quiet, and the soft glow of the lamps illuminated the dark corners—the scent of old books, leather, and burning wood from the fireplace.
No maps, no scattered papers, no tense voices going over battle plans—silence.
Adrenaline still surged through his veins. Sabrina stood there, facing the roaring fire as it crackled in the ornate fireplace, her expression a mixture of impatience and something darker—worry—arms crossed over her chest, wearing a sweater and jeans.
Sabrina crossed over to him in two blinks.
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you,” she stormed.
“I was . . . out,” he said.
“Your GPS said you were at Lucie’s shop, but I can’t believe you’d be that stupid to go over there after a mission,” she said, pushing a finger on his chest.
Finn didn’t answer right away. His body still thrummed with pain, and the weight of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours: Lucie, the fight, the Legion agents. Sabrina’s brow furrowed as she stepped closer, her concern growing.
“Did you find anything else at the Reinhards’?” she asked. She gasped, covering her mouth when she spotted the blood staining his shirt. “What happened?”
“Legion was there,” he admitted, lowering his head to the floor.
“Where are they now?” she asked sternly, turning into the captain and the leader others knew her as, not the woman who was like his little sister.
He gave her a pointed look.
“Dead,” she confirmed. “I’ll call Atlas to do a final sweep of the area. See if they can get any more of Reinhard’s belongings and dispose of the bodies.”
Finn waved her off, sitting down with a thump, as she made the call to Greyson, the VP of Atlas.
The lights from the chandeliers seemed to blur and swim around his head like fish.
She inhaled sharply after she hung up the call. “Finn, we need to get you help. You look like hell.”
“I already did that,” he said, his tone flat. He lifted his shirt slightly, revealing the fresh stitches lining his side. The wound was still raw, but it was clean. There were no traces of black veins of infection. So far so good.
But he finally noticed the stitches were done with a light pink thread that made him want to curl up in a ball and rip out the dressings.
Sabrina’s eyes went wide in shock. “How did you?—”
“Sitched it myself. Hey now, don’t look surprised. I used to have this job in Indiana?—”
“You can’t . . .” Sabrina paused, and Finn held his breath. Light flickered in her eyes, realization dawning on her. “You told her, didn’t you?”
Finn didn’t deny it; his gaze locked on hers. He didn’t have anything to say. He never could pull a fast one on her.
Sabrina’s jaw clenched, and she crossed her arms. “Finn, you know the rules. You’re not supposed to tell anyone what we do.”
“She deserved the truth when I came in there bleeding, half dying,” he threw back.
All of the blood rushed out of her face, and she stood there as pale as a ghost.
“You were dying?” Her chin wobbled. Crossing the remaining steps, she threw her arms around his waist.
“Ouch,” he screeched, but he held on to her just as tightly. There had been a minute there before he made it to Lucie’s when he thought he might never see Sabrina again. “I couldn’t lie to her,” he huffed.
Her body stiffened, and she pulled out of his hug.
“We don’t tell people about this place,” she said, serious once again.
“You wouldn’t lie to Charlie, so don’t ask me to do the same.” His voice cracked with a mixture of pain and regret.
“You love her,” Sabrina said. It wasn’t a question. She knew.
He closed his eyes and fell back against the embroidered burgundy chair. He just wanted a drink and to go to bed.
“I do,” he confessed.
“What were you thinking? You put her in danger. Did you make sure Legion didn’t follow you?” Sabrina accused.
Finn flinched at her tone but kept his jaw clenched. If he opened his mouth, something he couldn’t take back would fly from his lips.
“What were you going to do, huh?” she continued. “If my dad finds out about this, he might have you kicked out of the Conductors.”
Finn stayed silent, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the memory of Lucie’s face when she kicked him out replaying over and over in his head.
“Finn,” Sabrina’s voice cracked with a mix of anger and worry. “I can’t lose anyone else. You or her. She doesn’t know what’s coming, what you brought to her doorstep, especially after you just killed two of Legion’s agents. You will be on their watchlist now.”
He’d come in clean. He would have never let that happen. But he made sure to remind himself to talk to Whistler and put a security detail on her house.
“Talk to me,” she said, kneeling in front of him, putting a hand on his bobbing knee. “What were you thinking, putting her in that kind of danger?”
Finn snapped.
“Dammit, she’s already in danger!” Finn shouted, the frustration boiling over, as he shoved himself up to his feet, towering over Sabrina. “Her dad—he’s . . . he’s not right.”
Sabrina froze, her eyes widening in confusion, standing up. “What are you talking about?”
Finn ran a hand through his hair, pacing now, trying to contain the flood of emotions building since he left Lucie’s.
“Her dad hits her. Makes her work like a dog. If anyone deserves a happy life, it’s her,” he trailed off.
Her anger faltered. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I recognized the signs.”
Sabrina sighed, knowing his story, her frustration draining as the full picture came together.
“You need to figure out another way.” Sabrina’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe just more anger—but her voice was still hard.
“Finn, this place, the Way Station, it’s not for people like Lucie.
It’s for people hurt by Legion, people who are already in this fight.
We can’t involve her. If Legion found out about her, they would kill her for fun. ”
“Why can’t people know about this place?” Finn shot back, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Maybe we could help more people if they knew. Maybe Lucie?—”
Sabrina cut him off sharply. “You know why, because it’s not safe! This isn’t some charity for lost souls, Finn. It’s a safe house—a place for people who Legion has targeted to regroup, recover, and move on. It’s not for outsiders.”
He shook his head, his frustration reaching a breaking point. “Lucie isn’t just anyone, and she is in danger. Maybe not from Legion, but from her dad, from her whole damn life. She needs this place.” He needed her, too.
Sabrina sighed, her voice softening, but her stance remained firm. “Finn, I understand you love her, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore protocol. This isn’t just about you or her. It’s about keeping everyone here safe. We have rules.”
“What about me?” he argued. “Legion didn’t take anything from me. Are you going to kick me out when you don’t have any more use for me?”
“That’s different, and you know it. We’re family,” she said, shaking her head.
“Then what the hell are we even doing here?” Finn’s voice cracked with emotion as he stepped closer. “If we can’t help people like her, then what’s the point?”
Sabrina’s face softened for a moment, a flicker of sympathy passing through her eyes. “I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve help, Finn. But there’s a right way to do this. Bringing her here—it’s reckless. She could get hurt. Or worse.”
Part of him knew she was right. But the other part, the part that loved Lucie more than anything, refused to accept it. Finn clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of her words settle on him.
Finn thought for a moment about calling the Legion mutts on Lucie’s dad.
It would take care of two problems at once.
Fight fire with fire. Legion was evil, but with all of his research, they seemed to go after high-caliber people.
It wouldn’t work. And he didn’t want Lucie to be in the middle of it.
But couldn’t shake the feeling something terrible had happened with Lucie tonight.
Finn stopped pacing and turned to face her, anger flashing in his eyes.
“What would you have me do, leave her there with her piece-of-shit dad? I didn’t have the perfect plan like you always seemed to.
I was bleeding out. Shot. No backup. No way to get help, even if someone were there.
If we actually had a doctor here, I wouldn’t have to look for outside help. ”
“Then don’t lose your communicator so I can help you,” she yelled back.
“What if Lucie came here? Worked with us? Would your precious protocol finally approve of that?” Finn yelled.
“It’s not that simple,” she pushed. “My dad would never go for it. I’m barely allowed to leave myself. Atlas would have to be brought in and accept something like that.”
“Funny,” he seethed. “For someone who hates your dad’s rules, you sure do follow them perfectly.”
Sabrina’s jaw tightened.
“Stand down,” she warned.
Finn blinked, taken aback by her tone, but he was still too angry to back down. He couldn’t stop the next words coming out of his mouth.
“Easy for you to say,” he said, voice rising. “You’ve got it all together, right? Perfect family. Perfect life. A dad who actually gives a damn. You don’t know what it’s like to be scared of someone who’s supposed to love you.”
“Stop it,” Sabrina cut him off, her voice sharp and trembling with emotion. “Don’t throw that in my face.”
“What, am I wrong? Everyone here worships you. Your dad loves you. Your brother, Sam, idolizes you. You have a family who?—”
“I lost my family,” Sabrina shouted back, meeting his fury. Her words cut through the space between them like a blade.
She stepped forward, her eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns.
“I lost my mom. Then my older sister. They were murdered by Legion when I was barely old enough to understand what was happening.”
Finn stopped and looked down at her arm, where three stars, inked in careful lines, rested.
Months ago, when she found out he used to be a tattoo artist in New Mexico, she’d asked for them as a tribute. One star for each person she lost. He never knew who the last star was for.
Finn’s shoulders slumped, the fight leaking out of him like a deflating balloon.
“I’m sorry,” he confessed. “Sometimes I forget.” His voice was hoarse. The words were brittle. Wood shavings filled his mouth.
Sabrina rubbed her hand over her tattoo. “Not your fault. My dad doesn’t like to talk about them, so we don’t.”
She took a steadying breath, biting her thumb.
“Dad’s barely holding it together since we lost them.
It’s getting worse. He thinks I don’t notice, but I do.
Some days I don’t even know if he’s really here anymore.
” Sabrina crossed her arms over her cream-colored sweater, her tone softening but still firm.
“For now, we’ll have to watch Lucie from a distance.
I’ll put Isla on security detail. Have her keep an eye on the building, make sure Lucie’s okay for the next couple of weeks, and see if Whistler can pick up any Legion chatter. ”
Finn nodded once.
“Thank you,” he said, the silence softening between them.
“Check in with Charlie to see how your wound is looking. I’m not having you die from infection,” she said, with a hard edge of authority. “Now leave before you say something else stupid. You’re dismissed, General.”
Finn swallowed hard, his throat tight, and gave a stiff nod, turned on his heel, and left the library.
The sound of the door closing behind him was too soft for how loud his thoughts were.
He couldn’t remember the last time Sabrina and he ripped into each other like that. They argued, sure. But never anything like this.
He’d made things worse for Lucie.
For his family.
For himself.
And one of the only people who always had his back, Sabrina, who had seen through his reckless decision and called him out for it. Rightfully too. He was a dick. He should never have said those things about her family. He needed to apologize better when they had both cooled down.
His footsteps echoed down the hallway as he walked with no real destination. People had gone to bed. His fight with Sabrina probably cleared out the hallway. By the morning, there would be rumors of what had happened. The loneliness and silence of the Way Station were heavier than ever before.
Revulsion twisted like snakes in his stomach, a special cocktail, mixed with guilt and worry, and garnished with a cherry of desperation.
What if he had made things worse? What if Legion had seen him and tracked Lucie down? The image hit him hard and fast—Legion agents knocking on her balcony window. Lucie answering—unaware—alone—leaving him to find an empty, bloody room.
If she got hurt . . .
He turned and walked toward the control room. He needed a new communicator and to check in to see if Lucie had attempted to call the Way Station. If she were in trouble, all she had to do was call.
There was one thing he knew with brutal clarity.
If Legion so much as looked in Lucie’s direction, Finn would burn down the world to stop them.