Finn (35 page)

The nightmares start the second night in Baton Rouge. I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming silently into the room. My breath comes in pants, and I shiver uncontrollably. Images of Finn in his hospital room muddled with pools of blood and lifeless bodies flash through my mind. There was no sound, no screams, only play-by-play actions my brain made up.

I stand up carefully, bracing on the nightstand, and wobble to the bathroom. I cringe at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is matted to my head, damp with sweat. The rims of my eyes are red and swollen, standing out against my pale complexion.

There’s a knot in the pit of my stomach that’s growing day by day. Finn is progressing as I regress. Something is wrong, something I can’t put my fingers on, but I know in my heart is about to suffocate me.

After the initial shock wore off, and I saw Finn for myself, I was fine... for about twelve hours. Then the nagging feeling started to nip at me slowly. I can’t shake it. In the fifty-some hours since Finn was shot, I’ve experienced a spectrum of emotions.

Reese has begged me to talk to her, but I can’t put anything into words. Each time I try to make sense of my mentality, it always becomes more confusing.

I glance over at the bed and know sleep isn’t an option anymore. I take a quick shower and dress, then send a text to Johnny and Dad that a cab is taking me to the hospital early.

It’s barely daylight when I arrive. Luckily, Doug is still on shift and lets me in without complaining about the time. Finn’s lying partly on his uninjured side, sleeping steadily, as the sounds of machines hum through the room. A sense of peace washes over me as I make my way to his bedside and pull up the chair. He doesn’t stir when I link my hand through his to watch him sleep.

“He had some discomfort last night. We gave him some morphine and something to help him sleep,” Doug says quietly from behind me.

“I’ll be silent as a mouse. No waking him from me.”

“I know that, but I’m off shift soon. Wanted to let you know he may be out of it for a few more hours.”

“Thank you.”

He gives me an encouraging pat on the back and leaves me to my thoughts. The nightmares flash through my mind, making my blood run cold.

The door opens again, and my brother comes forward, handing me a cup of coffee.

“Thanks.”

“You were up early. Should have woke me.”

“Had a rough night. Decided I’d feel better if I was here with him.”

He moves the other chair closer and sits, turning to me with a serious face. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“How about if I insist you talk to me? Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

I sigh and kiss Finn’s knuckles before laying them back on the bed. Then I start to fiddle with the lid of my coffee. “I had a series of nightmares. They were vivid and disturbing. It was like watching a gruesome slideshow. Finn was shot, but this time, he didn’t make it. He was lying in a pool of blood, pale and unresponsive. His bright blue eyes were staring at me, dead. Then I flashed to a funeral and having to tell Winnie he wasn’t coming back. My whole body was numb.”

“Presley, he didn’t die. He’s lying in front of you, very much breathing.”

“I’m still numb.”

“You’ve been through trauma, and this brought up memories. Simon’s been in the ground less than five months. This was sure to shake you to the core. But don’t let the bad outweigh the good. You love each other. This is over. Time to move on to the next stage in building your lives.”

“What happens if next time he’s not so lucky? I don’t think I can survive it. I’m not cut out for this.”

“Presley, what are you saying?”

I stare at him with tears filling my eyes, and he sits up, leaning his elbows on his knees and pinning me with a disappointed glare. “Don’t do it, Pres. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Don’t let him go because of who he is.”

“I wish I didn’t have to, because I adore who he is, but I’m not strong enough to be the woman he needs.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He rises quietly and shakes his head at me. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret for the rest of your life because of your fears. We all hurt when Mom died, but Dad never filled that hole in his heart. Don’t be a martyr and go through the heartache and suffering because you’re too chicken shit to be by his side.”

His words sting, even after he’s left and I’ve had time to think about his logic. Finn was wrong all those months ago. I can’t handle his life.

Finn

I
t’s been a fucking shitty ass day.

I felt Presley’s presence the second she walked in the room, but my head was too groggy to open my eyes. With the comfort of her hand in mine, I drifted back off, only to awaken when Johnny came in.

What I heard next sent ice through my veins with betrayal. Hearing her internalize her fears and verbalize her unwillingness to conquer them was a shot to the heart. It was all I could do to pretend to sleep as she cried by my bedside. The urge to hold her in my arms and console her was overwhelming, but at that point, it was a struggle to think straight.

When I thought it was safe to open my eyes, my parents had come in, and I haven’t had a second alone with Presley since. Everyone but she and my parents left on a flight home today, and I barely had the privacy to tell Tripp what I knew was going on in her head.

He assured me he’d talk to Reese and see if they could get a read on Presley’s emotional state. I had to come up with a plan, a way to ensure her we could get through this, but I had to do it on her terms. Because at the end of the day, I can’t change who I am.

Finally, everyone left us alone, and she waited in the room as an orderly helped me get a quick shower. It was a bitch trying to wash without getting the stomach bandage wet, but when it was done, I felt like a new person.

Refreshed and with a renewed sense of confidence, I sit up in the bed and scoot over enough for her to sit with me. She crawls into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder. The scent of her shampoo fills my nose, and I inhale deeply, a sense of longing settling in my chest.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.” My lips move across her hairline tenderly.

“Nothing,” she lies.

“Presley, I need to know what you’re feeling. I was shot.”

“You don’t need to remind me. I see it every time I close my eyes.” Her breath hitches.

“So talk to me about it. We can’t ignore it. You need to get anything off your chest, I’m here. Talk to me.”

She shivers against me, and a tear hits my chest. “I can’t talk about it yet. My mind and heart are having a hard time.”

Her words are low and weak, scaring me. “Presley.” I lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. When I do, my heart sinks.

Her eyes are vacant; the usual dazzling hazel that dances with happiness is now clear and unreadable. In this moment, I know.

She’s going to leave me.

There’s a flash of realization on her face, and she backs away, leaving the bed and pacing the small space.

“Let’s get you home, get you settled, and then we’ll talk about this.”

“I’d rather not wait.”

“Finn, you’re in the hospital. This isn’t the time.”

“The only thing hurting right now is my heart. It’s breaking away, piece by piece.”

She stops and looks at me, crestfallen. “Don’t say that.”

“Tell me it’s not what I think, that you’re not backing away, thinking of ways to break up as soon as we get back to Nashville.”

Her face crumbles, and I swing my legs over the bed, forcing myself to stand. She reaches to help me, but I brush her off and walk to the side table, getting her bag and handing it to her.

“Go ahead and go.”

“What? No!” she argues, shaking her head violently. Tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m going to take care of you. I love you!”

“If you loved me, you’d be reassuring me that you can stick this out, not making me wonder when you’re going to drop the ball that we’re over. As it stands now, it’s a clean break.”

“How can you be so cold, so calm?”

“Are you going to ask me to change?”

“Of course not!”

“Are you going to ask me to quit my job?”

“Absolutely never, it’s a part of who you are.”

“Right, so are you going to stick around and make a life with me, knowing my job is risky and I put my life in danger when the situation calls for it? When I’m trying to save fucking children?” My voice escalates, and she jumps back, startled by my outburst.

“Maybe we should talk about this later, when you’re calmer.”

“No, tell me now, Presley. Are you going to stick around or let your fears consume you?”

She sags her shoulders in defeat and whispers, “I don’t think I can handle this life.”

I open my mouth to argue, but my parents come in with smiles on their faces and take-out bags in their hands. They both take in the scene and stop dead.

“What’s going on?” Dad moves to me.

I tamper down my emotions and shuffle toward Presley. “Winnie called, hysterical. She’s upset that no one will tell her what’s going on, and she made Presley cry. I’m insisting Presley go home and be there when they tell her the truth. She’s likely to have a ton of questions.”

“Poor baby,” my mom sympathizes, oblivious to what’s really happening. “She needs you, Presley. The timing is awful, but that little girl has been through so much lately.”

My dad sees the whole picture clearly and runs his hand down his face. “Let’s get Finn back in bed, and I’ll help get you a cab back to the hotel. I bet there’s a flight out tonight.”

“I’ve already checked. She’s on the nine o’clock.”

Her head swings to me with a look of despair, then her eyes close and shame washes over her face. It dawns on her I heard the conversation this morning, and this was my last ditch effort to get through to her.

She gathers her composure and walks to me, taking her bag and kissing me softly. “I love you, Finn, and I’m sorry,” she whispers and turns to my parents to tell them goodbye.

Mom assures her that she’ll keep her updated on my release and homecoming. Dad stays quiet, staring at me with sadness.

When he walks her out, I stumble back to bed and notice blood seeping through my bandage. Mom asks if I need some pain medicine, and I agree, knowing the pain isn’t from the wound but from the breaking of my heart.

“Knock, knock! I have another delivery!” Reese sings out, cracking my bedroom door and peeking in.

“I’m asleep.” I change the channels mindlessly on the television and try to ignore her.

“I’d believe that if you actually ever slept.” She sits on the bed and hands me a box of chocolates with a handmade card. My throat closes seeing Winnie’s lopsided hearts and flowers all over the construction paper.

“Thanks,” I mumble and stack it on my nightstand next to the others.

“You’ve been home two weeks, Finn. Please, come out of this room.”

“Why?”

“Because Tripp misses you, and he’s worried. Every one of your friends has come by, worried when you’re too tired to see them.”

“I am tired.”

“Bullshit.” She climbs into my bed and lays her head on the pillow Presley used. I almost yell at her to move, but figure it’s worthless. The sheets need to be washed soon anyway.

“She’s crushed. I’m her best friend, and she’s never been this way before. She’s lost, Finn. She needs you to whip her back into shape.”

“Not my job. She needs to find her balance in a life she can accept. My world gives her nightmares and causes uncertainty.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Aren’t you some kind of super soldier?”

I huff at her statement and roll my eyes. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I like you, Finn.”

“Good to know.”

Tripp walks in with a plate of food, and immediately, I know it’s from Presley. The aroma of garlic chicken fills my room as memories flood my mind.

“Presley came by. She begged to see you.”

“What did you say?”

“The same thing I have the last six times she’s been here. You should have seen her, man. She’s not good. She’s carrying around a lot of regret. She wanted me to hand you this, too.” He lays an envelope on the bed next to the food tray.