I can’t get a read on Cat, I muse, as I wonder whether to strip off in the bedroom or try to manoeuvre with my awkward casts in the tiny bathroom. I decide it will have to be the latter as I don’t want to traumatise her. While, for now, she seems more like her old self, she’s probably running on adrenaline. When she crashes, I’ll have to be prepared for her to come down hard. She’s had one shock after another, and my literal fall from grace as I slid from the building can’t have helped her.
She’s followed me into the bedroom and is looking around in disgust, her nose wrinkling.
I feel embarrassed. “Look, it’s not much. We’ll go to a hotel tomorrow.”
She gives a quick shake of her head. “A few days ago, I’d have looked on this as paradise, Finn. I’m just trying to process that I’m here, and so are you. I thought I’d lost you again tonight.”
I go to her side fast, risking placing my hand on her chin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. It’s over, Cat. All we’ve got to do is move on. And we can do that. Tonight you can say we’re both survivors.”
She sobs, and for a moment I hold her against me, well, lean on her really, but just let her cry it out. I’m proud she’s held it together as long as she has. For a moment I thought I was a goner, knowing she’d seen that, well, fuck.
I’d taken risks, while I never doubted I’d disarm the bomb, she hadn’t known my confidence nor my level of skill. It dawns on me she must have thought she was going to be blown to smithereens.
“That bomb, Cat. You weren’t in danger.”
“I know,” she says through another sob. “I trusted you, Finn. But, why did it explode later?”
“That was me, I rigged it to cause a diversion.” It had worked better than I had expected. I didn’t expect the whole damn clubhouse to go up.
“Next time, could you give me some warning?”
I can’t help it, I laugh. “I’m fuckin’ hoping there won’t be a next time.”
She pulls away, but only so she can rub away her tears which have mingled with the dust that covers me from head to toe. Her face might be lined with streaks, but she’s never looked more beautiful to me.
When she glances at her hands, she notices they’re filthy, then her eyes narrow on me. “You need to shower. Do you want me to help?”
I didn’t realise how tense I was, how scared of saying, doing, the right thing until she said those words. Fuck yes, is my answer.
“I have to get out of these clothes. I shower naked,” I make it plain. “Though, don’t expect much. I think I might have broken my dick on the way down.” I certainly hadn’t done it any favours.
“I’m not exactly in working order,” she tells me with a shudder and her eyes become hooded at her own reminder.
My lips purse. “We’ll get through this.” I promise her again.
37
Cat…
Back in Kentucky, when Finn first spoke about the Utah Satan’s Devils’ clubhouse, I’d imagined something much like the place I’ve come to now, and nothing like the modern office block where I’d woken up—hell, was it just yesterday? So much has happened it seems a lifetime ago.
This is more rustic, basic. A long two storey building with an auto-shop attached, a compound surrounded by chain link fencing, and a huge sign proclaiming it’s the home of the Satan’s Devils MC. The clubroom has nicotine stained walls and ceiling, and the bar top is smooth, polished by thousands of elbows that must have rested there over the years and ringed from numerous drinks. The air is tainted by the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke.
The kitchen, well, from my quick sneak look is nothing like that which I saw when I’d glanced behind the counter during dinner last night. The thought of Cowboy cooking a gourmet meal in there is laughable. The grease on the stove is half an inch thick, it looks like no one’s ever cleaned it.
The bedrooms, well to say they could do with a good clean is an understatement, they could probably do with fumigating as well.
I know why Finn didn’t take me to a hotel, our appearance would have caused questions, but his concern this place would make me cut and run isn’t right either. It’s old, but lived in and used. Surprisingly, even given the state of the furniture and decoration, it feels more like a home than the building that was so recently destroyed.
A new mattress, fresh lick of paint, a good polish and a gallon of disinfectant, and I’ll be quite happy to stay here.
The near loss of Finn had put everything into perspective.
I knew Finn was going to the roof, I’d heard that part of the plan. But what I hadn’t picked up was that he was going to blow the place sky-high with him on top of it. If I’d known that, well—could I have stopped him? I doubt it. It’s probably best I knew nothing about it.
Thank heavens for Pip who’d kept me company in the safe room. Barely had he shut the door when there was that deafening explosion, the safe room had rocked, moved, making me stagger and knock into the side. The panic of not knowing what was going to happen outweighed the fear when Pip took me into his arms, using his body to save me from injury.
Even when the initial movement had ceased, the crashes, bangs and agonised shrieks of steel beams thundered around us, were amplified by the steel cage we were in. App, well even as well trained as he is, added to the cacophony by barking. I’d picked him up and had held him.
“You’re safe,” Pip had told me, firmly. “We’re going to survive. This room is fireproof, and sturdy.”
I didn’t care about myself, didn’t have it in me to care about anyone else, not even the dog I was holding. Suddenly it came into focus, the way Finn had left me, a goodbye in his eyes as he ascended to the roof. What do I know about buildings? Had Finn been aware he was putting his life on the line and saying goodbye for a final time?
“Finn!” I cried out.
Pip’s arms had tightened around me, and such was my fear for Finn, I barely noticed. “Finn did what he had to do, what only he could.”
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” He has to be, it sounds like the whole building is coming down.
“Don’t think like that,” Pip snaps. “Finn’s resourceful.”
I know he is, he was a SEAL for fuck’s sake. But his wings have been clipped. Even whole he’d have difficulty coming down from the roof.
A particularly loud crash had me startling. In the light of Pip’s flashlight I catch sight of his wince.
He answers my unspoken question, “That was the elevator, I think.”
And Finn has difficulty on stairs.
Time seems to stop, the sounds begin to die off, a rattle here, a shudder there, another loud bang as something else crashes into the box we’re in.
“They’ll come for us as soon as it’s safe,” Pip reassures me.
“Can’t we get out?”
“Not letting you go anywhere until we get the all clear.”
I didn’t voice my fears, but that hadn’t stopped me thinking them. What if the plan hadn’t worked? What if our side is dead? What if Gun’s still free? Who exactly would be opening the safe room up when the building finally settled?