Finn caught a break and scrambled to his feet, laughing crazily. He ran over to the bushes and reached inside, searching for the knife. I screamed in denial and ran over to him, but Leo reached him first, jerking him back by his shirttail.
Finn got away by coming out of his shirt, the buttons flying as he pulled away from Leo. His swollen eyes rolled around wildly as the whine of the sirens got louder. He shot me a menacing look, and I stiffened, ready for his attack. But, he ran for his silver Porsche, which I now saw was parked a few spots over from mine. Leo yelled out for him and jumped to his feet, but it was too late. Finn squealed out onto the street, changing gears viciously as he drove away into the night.
Leo ran over to me. His hands pushed the hair out of my eyes, ghosting over the raw rope burn on my face. “Did he hurt you?” he asked in a breathless rush, his blue eyes glittering as they scoured my face and body.
I shook my head, not able to speak yet, still not believing what had happened.
“I got you now,” he said, pulling me close to him, his big body shuddering.
“You’re shivering,” I whispered out, my nose pressed against his chest.
“Forget about me. I just need to hold you. I thought I was going to lose you. I thought he’d . . .” He groaned out, sighing as he pressed his lips to mine gently. He pulled back and stared down at me, his eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. “Nora, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have said weeks ago—”
Drew’s Mazda pulled up to the shop, and Leo ripped his eyes from mine and stared at Drew, who got out of his car carrying blankets and pillows for our rooftop date. It felt like a lifetime ago when we’d made those plans.
A muscle ticked in Leo’s jaw as he ran his eyes over Drew, lingering on the bedding. His shoulders slumped, and he swiveled his head back to peer at me, a desolate expression in his eyes.
“Leo, tell me what you wanted to say,” I whispered.
A Dallas police car also skidded to a stop in front of the gym. I stood there, lifeless, while Leo shook his head and gently set me out of his arms. He walked across the street to meet the officers.
“Wait,” I said.
He didn’t turn around. Whatever he’d been about to say, he’d changed his mind.
***
The police searched for Finn that night. They told me I had to come downtown to fill out paperwork, but I refused. I needed time to decide if I was going to tell everything that had happened to me. The police in Houston were contacted, and they reported that Finn had lost the lease to his condo a few weeks earlier. He’d also been fired from the law firm where he worked. No one had seen or heard from him since he’d showed up at the shop. I assumed the police had contacted my parents. My dad had tried to call me a few times, but I wasn’t ready to talk yet.
I wasn’t ready to sleep at the shop, so I stayed with Aunt Portia at her apartment in Dallas even though it took me an hour to drive through rush hour to get to BA.
I continued with life. What else could I do?
Three days after Finn had shown up, a pale Aunt Portia greeted me as I walked in the shop after school.
“I need to talk to you,” she said to me, steering me past the late lunch customers and into the kitchen.
“Come here and sit,” she said, attempting a small smile, but it wasn’t her usual perky one. She sat down and I sat stiffly across from her. She took both my hands in hers, and it was then that I knew, oh yes, I truly knew something had happened. A cold sweat broke out over me, and my mouth dried.
“Your brother . . .,” she began, but stopped.
“Tell me.”
She sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this, but there was a pile-up on Interstate 10 near Houston. Your brother . . . Finn’s car . . . crashed into an eighteen wheeler. It caught fire...”
“He’s dead?”
She nodded and mumbled something about policemen and dental records and my parents, but it didn’t make sense. Her voice kept swelling and expanding, and I couldn’t understand anything she said. Needing to be grounded, I lay my head down on the cold table, letting the hard surface support me. I heard her saying my name over and over until, blessedly, I heard nothing at all.
***
In the days that followed Finn’s death, I moved in a numb daze, and it reminded me of the sad girl I used to be. I had obligations, so I called my parents. Dad made plans to meet me for breakfast before the funeral. Mother refused to speak to me. I was good with that. I did happen to catch her Good Morning, Dallas show the next day. She appeared on camera in a soft-blue suit, teary eyed, yet as beautiful as ever as she announced the death of her son. That’s her, always milking it, looking for an angle to help her climb to the top of the network’s ladder.
Dad came to Aunt Portia’s before the funeral, and we went back to the kitchen to eat. We sat on the counter, eating hot cinnamon buns and drinking coffee, our legs dangling as we talked. When we were done, he surprised me by opening his briefcase and giving me the papers to sign that would put my prize money in my name.