“You don’t know where he is?” I ask.
If he wasn’t with Killian and Sofia, I thought for sure he’d be with Wren. “No. But there are a couple of fighters he’s chummy with here, too. He’s probably with them.”
It’s possible. But most fighters party hard following the main event, something Finn’s tried to avoid. If he’s with them now, it could mean trouble.
I shouldn’t go there, but I can’t shake the feeling that if he’s out partying, I’ve pushed him to it. My family problems were the last thing he needed in his life.
“Wren, I’m here,” I say, when I see the sign to the Water Club. “Could you come down?”
“I’m on my way, girl,” she says.
The valet opens the door for me as a big gush of wind slams into me. I huddle into my coat and snag my large purse. A change of underwear and a toothbrush are all I brought with me. I can’t stay with Finn like before, my mother needs me. But I also can’t ignore him. Not after how good he’s been to me and not with how much he still means to me.
After rereading his texts, I realized that in trying to protect him, I was hurting him, deeply. He’s already been through so much. I won’t allow him to suffer more at my hands.
“Are you a guest of the hotel, miss?” the valet asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say.
I hurry into the lobby, seeking warmth and hoping it won’t take me long to find Finn. My phone buzzes. I hurry to see who’s texting me, hoping it’s him, only to see a message from Sofia.
We’re on our way back to the hotel. Where are you?
The hotel lobby, I answer. Wren’s coming down for me.
Where’s Finn? She asks.
I don’t know, I respond.
He hasn’t replied to my last few texts. I know he’s mad. I can’t blame him and wish I could make things right. But I swear as much as I love him, I can’t help feeling like I’m hurting, rather than helping him.
“Sol!” Wren calls out when she sees me.
She’s dressed in those Victoria Secret sweatpants she loves and a long-sleeved shirt, leaving me with the impression she’s been back to her room a while. But it’s the large bruise along her eye and cheek that has me hurrying to her.
“Oh, my God. What happened?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Went to a bar, got into it with some stupid girl. Her boyfriend nailed me when I knocked her on her ass.”
“Wren! Some guy hit you?”
She shrugs again. “Like I said, rough night.”
“Were you by yourself, did anyone help?”
She grabs my hand, leading me toward the front desk. “Yes. And yes,” she says, before turning her attention to the woman working the desk. “Hey, I need to register a car under room 1129.”
“Wren, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Only that the bouncers tossed him out,” she answers. “They were calling the police, but I didn’t want the hassle and left.”
The clerk passes me a card to fill out, but all I can do is gape at Wren’s bruises. She’s a tough girl, and she teaches self-defense. This guy must have been a fighter, or trained, or something. “Your brothers are going to freak out,” I say, pointing out the obvious.
“Probably. But most of them aren’t here because Finn wasn’t fighting. I was bored and needed to blow off some steam. Thought I’d go for a drink. If I knew this would happen I would have stayed in.”
She’s giving me too many details and explaining way too much, like she’s been rehearsing what to say. “You weren’t with the other fighters?” I press. Whoever hurt her is someone who’s used to brawling. Based on the damage, that much is clear.
“No, I told you I was by myself,” she says, trying a little too hard to sound casual. She laughs and taps on the card I’m supposed to be filling out. “Come on. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever been in a fight. Fill out the card and let’s find Finn so I can get back to bed.”
“Okay,” I tell her, even though it’s not.
Something happened she doesn’t want me to know. Yet based on how she shuts me out, she’s not ready to talk about it. Someone like Wren, you can’t push. She pushes back, cementing walls around herself to keep her safe.
I fill in the information and hand it to the person at the desk, mowing over what to do. The moment I’m done, she starts to walk away.
“Wren, wait,” I call, hurrying to catch up. When she turns to face me, I can practically feel those walls around her. No, now is definitely not the time to talk about what happened. But I want her to know that I care. “Look, if you ever want to talk . . . I’m here for you, okay?”