Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3 (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Finn was walking through a swamp. He felt the weight of…something in his right hand. He looked down to see that he was holding a machete.

Why was it in his right hand? He was left-handed. Wasn’t he?

He stared at the ground. Some kind of animal trap had been sprung by a squirrel. The poor thing had been snapped in half. Finn poked at it with the end of the blade. He tried to stop himself, but couldn’t.

“Leave it, Mikey!”

Finn turned as a gangly teen ran up to him. The boy’s clothes were worn and dated. He had short-cropped brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was taller than Finn, which didn’t seem right. The kid was maybe five-six, but Finn was looking up at him.

Finn turned back to the squirrel, noticing that the hand holding the machete—his hand—was smaller than it should be. His feet were bare and crusted with sand. It looked like he was about the same age as the other kid. Maybe a little younger.

“You’re going about it all wrong, Travis.” The words came out of Finn’s mouth, but he didn’t recognize his voice. “If you want the pelts, you have to use live traps. Oh, right. I forgot. You’re too much of a coward to kill anything yourself.”

Travis… The gangly kid was Travis? Finn tried to commit the boy’s face to memory, updating it with time. Finn was surprised at how healthy he looked. He was thin, but not gaunt.

“They don’t all get hit like this one.” Travis knelt down and dug a length of chain out from the sand. He pulled it, and the trap and squirrel came with it. He stood and said, “If the pelts won’t work for practice, the meat’s still fine for dinner.”

Finn felt his mouth open again, his voice young and strange. “Is food all you ever think about? Ma isn’t that good of a cook.”

Travis grabbed the collar of Finn’s shirt and jerked him forward. “She’s not your mom.”

Finn laughed. “It doesn’t matter. She still likes me best.”

Travis looked like he was about to punch Finn. Finn wouldn’t blame him. Instead, Travis shoved Finn in the chest. He stumbled back, the machete slipping from his hand.

“Mikey!”

Travis dropped the trap and grabbed Finn’s arm, his face horror-stricken. Finn looked at the ground, at the crimson spreading from his foot, at the digit lying in the sand next to the blade.

He started to laugh.

* * * * *

Finn jolted awake. He sat up, frantically searching the room for… He didn’t know what. He was alone.

“Jazz?” he called.

“Just a minute.” Her muffled voice came from the bathroom. He could hear water running.

He was cold. How low was the AC set? Finn threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The room spun around him. Had he always been this tall? He felt kind of drunk.

His clothes were draped over a nearby chair. He stumbled to it and pulled on his jeans and tank top. Jazz must still have his shirt. He slid his feet into his shoes, then ran his hands over his face, trying to shake off the dream’s effects while remembering what had happened.

Travis. Finn had dreamt about Travis. But when they were both younger. No, not him. Michael. In the dream, Finn had seen everything from Michael’s point of view again. It was visceral. He had actually been
in
Michael’s body.

Why did he keep dreaming he was Michael?

Pushing that…admittedly terrifying thought away. What did you learn?

They were in a swamp. Their house was close. Finn wasn’t sure how he knew, but there it was. Travis was trapping animals for practice. He wanted the pelts.

Finn remembered the stuffed possum at the bar and Nell’s instant defense of Travis. Taxidermy. As if this wasn’t all creepy enough as it was.

Finn scoffed.
He actually thought those ugly little pets of his were art
.

Wait… Where had that thought come from? That laugh? Finn shook his head again. The room was still spinning.

“These are ruined.”

Finn jumped at the sound of Jazz’s voice behind him. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. She was holding her leather pants and staring at him.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He and “fine” weren’t on the same continent.

She tossed her pants on a chair. She was wearing her bikini with his shirt, which was completely unbuttoned. The swimsuit was wine-red and more string than fabric. The dark blue silk of his shirt flowed around her body as she walked.

Finn had always thought she moved like she’d been trained for the stage. He asked her about it once, but it brought on their first big freeze-out. Watching her now, though… The room seemed to warm as he looked at her.

Her T-shirt was wadded up in her hand. She sniffed it, then curled her nose and tossed it on the chair after her pants.

“Do you mind if I keep wearing your shirt for a while? I’m not up to trying to shimmy into that leather, and the whole outfit reeks.”

“You can walk around in a bikini and one of my shirts for the rest of my life, as far as I’m concerned.”

She smiled at him. Honest-to-God smiled. He felt himself calm down, the last chill from the dream receding. Good thing she didn’t throw her smelly clothes on the bed. He had other plans for it. But no condoms.

Dammit.

He hadn’t needed any in so long, he didn’t bother carrying them anymore. He hadn’t been with anyone since Jazz and he knew he couldn’t get her pregnant. Depending on how active her social life had been, maybe they could go without. The idea of sliding into her heat, feeling her skin-to-skin in the most intimate way possible…

He wanted her again. And again and again. The room was paid up through the next morning. They could rest, recover, and reconnect. But first he needed to find out if she was on board.

She’d brought up the subject of kids once. Finn had panicked, his mouth running off about how much he loved them—which was true. Up to a point.

He was worried if she found out he’d already made the decision not to have kids and taken steps to make sure it didn’t happen that she would freak out or something. He’d never been with anyone long enough for the topic to come up and didn’t really know how to handle it. He wasn’t sure how she’d react now.

“We should talk.”

Her smile faltered. “Okay.”

She walked to the empty chair and sat, pulling her slender legs up and hugging her knees. The curve of her hips against the lines of her legs… It was not conducive to a coherent conversation. Finn would make it work somehow, though. He was enjoying the view too much to ask her to move.

“What do you want to talk about?”

She looked like she was bracing herself for something, her lips pulled in a frown and her gaze laser-focused. Preemptive freeze-out.

Great. Even the room seemed to drop in temperature.

“Cut me some slack, Jazz. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“I know. I’m just…” She shook her head. “You said you wanted to talk.”

Finn felt his fatigue hit him again. He was suddenly bone-weary. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward on his elbows.

Go ahead and offer her your heart again. Watch her laugh as she crushes it beneath her feet.

Man, he was being hard on himself today. He was too tired to even fight back.

“Do you ever wonder if things would have worked out differently if we talked things through instead of always jumping into bed when one of us was angry?”

“I’m not the one who got angry. And you’re the one who left.”

“Thanks for the constant reminders.”

What else did you expect?

“I’m sorry,” Jazz said.

Whoa. Had he heard her right? She had never apologized for anything before. Not to him, not to anyone as far as he knew. For a moment, he wondered if he was hearing things.

“I’m not good at this,” she said. “I don’t talk about feelings with anyone. When you would get upset, I didn’t know how to respond. Not with words anyway. Sex seemed a reasonable solution.”

A reasonable solution? She’s talking as if you’re an equation.

“Is that what this was?” He gestured toward the bed. “A
reasonable solution
for dealing with me when I’m upset?”

“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about when we were together before. Not now.”

A convenient excuse. She sees you as something to be managed, like she
managed
you after your shower. She pulled you right back in. She only ever wanted you in bed.

Dammit. Was she really only interested in his body?

“So what about now? What was that after the shower, just a farewell fuck?”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with tears. Actual tears.

“Go to hell,” she snapped. She jumped up and stalked to her boots, then shook them out before pulling them on.

Finn buried his face in his hands. He was prone to losing his temper. He knew that. But he never hurt people. Ever. Not with his body, not with his words. Why was he turning into such an asshole?

It’s the effect she has on me.

No. Goddammit, no. He was not putting the blame on her. This was his problem. He needed to sort it out. He had
hurt
her. Hurt Jazz. He had to get her away from this. Away from him. Until he could get himself back under control or at least figured out what was happening to him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Why the hell was she asking him that? She shouldn’t care anymore. She had tried to talk—finally, really and truly tried. And he had fucked it up so royally, he would probably never get another chance.

Give up.

“Finn?”

He felt her kneel in front of him. She gently touched his arms, her grip feather light. She pulled his hands away from his face and gasped. She grabbed his cheeks, hard. He was glad. The room was spinning and it helped him feel more connected to his body.

He must have it for her worse than he thought.

“Finn!”

“What?” Nothing felt real. The detachment increased. He felt vaguely nauseated.

“Your eyes are turning blue.”

“My eyes have always been blue.”

“Not this color.”

He closed his eyes tight and shook his head. Not the best move. Her hands shifted to his shoulders as she helped him stay upright.

“Finn? Finn!”

She grabbed his face again and kissed him. Full-on, no build. Her lips were all over his, tongue demanding attention. His body knew her so well, his hands went to the warm skin of her sides like they were magnetized. He pulled her against him, grabbing her legs and pulling them up on either side of him on the bed. He rocked against her, heat building within him.

His jeans chafed his dick as it stiffened. He didn’t care—was grateful, even. Because it was grounding him. Her touch, their bodies locked together, it brought him back to himself.

What the fuck is going on?

He was about to start tugging on the strings that held her bikini in place when she pulled back from the kiss—hands on his cheeks, eyes searching his. She let out a sigh and relaxed in his lap.

“It’s okay. They’re normal now.” She smiled at him.

Then the fireball crashed through the window.

Chapter Seventeen

Heat hit her back as the room exploded into fire behind her. Jazz heard the window shatter. The next thing she knew, Finn had pulled her against his chest and was rolling them across the bed to the floor.

“What the hell?” she yelled.

“Molotov cocktail. We need to go out the back.”

The curtains were on fire, flames dropping onto the carpet. Some smoldered out. Others caught.

“Shouldn’t we try to stop it?”

As she said the words, another projectile flew into the room, landing on the bed. The sheets caught instantly as the accelerant poured over the mattress.

“Shit!”

Finn leapt forward, blocking her body with his, pushing her toward the bathroom.

“Wait.”

Jazz ducked under his arm so she could grab her wallet, phone, and keys from the nightstand. He took her hand and pulled her toward the bathroom, both crouching low to stay beneath the smoke. Finn slammed the door shut as soon as they were in the smaller room, then rolled up a towel and tucked it along the crack at the floor.

There was a small window above the sink. She could fit through easily. She wasn’t sure about him.

“Finn…”

“It’ll be fine.”

He jumped up onto the sink, then opened the window and punched out the screen. He scanned the area outside. “I don’t think they’re back here. They might have taken off to avoid the cops, but we can’t assume anything.”

“Is it those guys from the bar?”

“Probably,” Finn said. “Come on.” He helped her up onto the counter. “Be sure to check the SUV before you get into it.”

As if he wouldn’t be with her.

“You go first,” she said.

“Jazz—”

“I will balk. I swear to fucking God, I will kick and scream and fight you on this. I’m not going through that window until I’m sure you can fit through it. You go first.”

He stared at her for a moment.

“We’re wasting time,” she said.

He sighed, then turned and pulled himself up into the window. Shifting his shoulders, he managed to get himself halfway through. She shoved on his legs, helping him the rest of the way. There was a loud
thump
as he hit the ground on the other side. She hoped it was mostly sand.

There were noises coming from the other room that she didn’t understand. Crackling, popping. Smoke was seeping in around the edges of the door. She turned and practically dove through the window. Finn was on the other side to catch her, which was good, because she was still holding on to her things with one hand. It wasn’t like her bikini had pockets. Thank God she had put on her boots.

He grabbed her empty hand and ran with her through the brush that edged up to the back of their room. He pulled her to a stop just before they hit the parking lot.

Jazz didn’t see anyone around. Finn waited a few moments longer, then said, “Okay.”

They ran across the lot. Jazz hit the button to unlock the doors as they neared the SUV.

“Get in on the passenger’s side,” he said.

It was the closest. She pulled the door open and jumped up. Finn put his hand on her ass, pushing her across the space. She climbed into the driver’s seat as he sat next to her.

Her hands were shaking so hard, she had to use them both to get the key in the ignition and start the SUV. She peeled out of the space Finn had told her to back into. At the time, she wondered why it would matter. Now she understood.

Two loud pops sounded and Finn yelled, “Get down!”

She ducked low. Finn put his arm around her, trying to shield her with his body and yet not interfere with her ability to drive. She floored the accelerator, tearing out of the lot and onto the highway.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst. Finn pulled back from her, wrapping his arm around her headrest as he stared out the back window.

He turned to look out the windshield, and said, “Take the next turn. Slow down. You’re going to miss it.”

“That isn’t a road, it’s a dirt track.”

“I know. They won’t think we’ll turn here. Trust me.”

She turned, praying the SUV wouldn’t get bogged down. A few minutes later, he had her turn again. Then again and again, until she wasn’t sure she would be able to find her way back to the highway. He seemed to know where he was going, though.

“Pull off here.”

Sphagnum moss brushed the roof of the SUV as she took the last turn onto a graveled stretch that was so overgrown she doubted anyone had used it for years. She stopped the car in the shade of a huge gnarled oak tree, knuckles white on the wheel.

Finn reached over and turned the key, killing the engine.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“About a ten-minute walk from Travis’s house.”

Jazz turned to look at him. “How do you know that?”

He swallowed hard. She saw his throat work at it.

“I don’t know.”

“What is going on, Finn?” She was scared. So was he. She could see it in his eyes.

He shook his head and said, “I wish I knew.”

She reached across the small space between them and put her arms around his neck, pulling him into an awkward hug. He hugged her back as best he could.

She kissed the side of his head and said, “We’re going to figure this out. Okay? I promise you.”

He nodded as he pulled back.

Her wallet and phone had fallen to the floor when they jumped into the SUV. She tossed her wallet into the drink tray, but held on to her phone. She handed Finn the keys, then opened her door and slid to the ground.

Her knees felt weak. She left her door open, holding the grab handle and closing her eyes as she regained her equilibrium. She heard Finn’s door open and shut and waited for him to walk around the SUV and join her.

She opened her eyes when she heard him stop a few feet away. His face was pale and drawn. He was staring at the bottom of her door.

“What is it?”

She followed his gaze, her stomach clenching with icy dread when she saw what he had noticed. There were two small holes near the bottom of the driver’s side door.

That was why Finn wanted them to go in through the passenger’s door—the side that was away from the street. He wanted the SUV to provide them with cover from gunfire.

Jazz felt dizzy. She was angry and scared and for once in her life she had no idea what to do. The look on Finn’s face made her think he wouldn’t be much help. He just kept staring at those holes.

“If they had been a foot higher—”

She didn’t let him finish that thought. Either of them could have been hurt. Killed. She wouldn’t let him say it—think it. She grabbed his arm and turned him to face her.

“They weren’t. Deal—” She cut herself off again. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “We’re okay.”

She opened her eyes to look at him again. He was swaying on his feet. She grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “We are okay.”

He nodded.

Now that he was reassured, she needed to get a handle on herself. A foot higher and one or both of them would be dead. Fate could have taken him away so easily—but hadn’t. Jazz dared to let a little more hope into her heart.

She finally remembered that the shirt she was wearing had a pocket on the chest and dropped her phone in it. The shirt was unbuttoned, so she fixed that immediately. She really wished she had pants. Or bug spray. Wildlife was the least of her worries, though.

The group from the bar had seemed dangerous. She still had trouble believing they were capable of this. Burning down a hotel? Shooting at them? Jazz hoped no one else was hurt.

The hotel was a single-story building laid out like a strip mall, with each room opening out to the parking lot. Finn had mentioned that he had asked for a room away from other guests. Maybe he’d thought something like this might happen.

No. If he had, he would have insisted that they go back to Summer Park immediately. He probably always asked to be secluded. His job made him cautious about everything.

She couldn’t believe this was his life. He’d even parked his car strategically. The self-defense lessons he had given her were just the tip of the iceberg. She wanted to learn more, to be able to help him assess situations. She had his back already—when he would let her. She wanted to be sure it counted.

“We can’t head back to town,” he said.

Her hope picked up. He wasn’t trying to bench her, to push her out of his life.

“It’s too dangerous. They’re probably cruising the highway, and we don’t know which direction is safe. They might be using more than one vehicle, based on the attack at the hotel.”

Okay. Necessity was keeping her with him. She would take it.

“We should call the police,” Jazz said.

“And tell them what? Did you see who threw the bottles? All we have is conjecture.”

“But we could tell them what happened at the bar.”

“Which would lead to more questions. Clearview is still the closest town. It’s obviously strapped for resources. All the emergency personnel will be tied up with the hotel. Besides, I don’t want to answer their questions yet. Not until I’ve had a look at Travis’s house.”

“That’s too dangerous. You can’t keep reading things. It’s affecting you—”

“She was my sister, Jazz. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

She bristled, felt the familiar walls come up.

No. Not this time.

She was so keen on him not pushing her away, but he’d been right before. She had kept him at arm’s length for their entire relationship. He said he wanted in. She wanted to let him. And if Fate decided to try to take him away because of that, he, she, it—whatever that force was—would have to go through Jazz. She was sick of her curse. Sick of stifling herself and living half a life. It ended now.

“Yeah, I do, actually. I have a younger sister back in Kansas. If anything happened to her…”

Shit. Yeah, if anything happened to her, Jazz would let
nothing
stand in the way of getting justice.

Finn stared at her blankly. She wondered if he was having another episode. At least his eyes were still pale blue.

“What?”

“You have a sister?” he asked.

“Yeah. Her name’s Mei.”

Jazz forced herself to stand still, even though she wanted to pace—as if putting physical distance between them would make it easier to let him closer emotionally. She couldn’t stop herself from crossing her arms tight across her chest. It reassured her. A little.

“That’s the first time you’ve told me anything about your family,” he said.

She was aware. She tried to shrug it off, to maybe fool herself into thinking it wasn’t as big of a deal as it was.

“What do you want to know?”

His eyes were wide and he smiled. He genuinely smiled. She felt her lips tug up at the corners. She hadn’t seen him look so happy in a long time.

“Everything.” He shook his head. “I want to know everything.”

Her stomach felt like she was on a roller coaster. She hadn’t even talked to Elsa about her family. Neither of them discussed their pasts, so they never pushed each other for details or information they’d be uncomfortable sharing. That was one of the reasons they were best friends.

Now that Jazz thought about it, she and Elsa never sharing their histories was also what had made Jazz accidentally give Dante some advice for handling an argument with Elsa that had nearly destroyed their relationship. Maybe she and Elsa needed to start talking more too.

Finn had wanted to share Jazz’s life. It was obvious he still did. And she wanted to share it with him.

She took a deep breath. She could do this. She could tell him about her family. Especially if she stuck with the facts and didn’t wax poetic about how much she loved them all.

“Her husband’s a professional football player. They have three daughters. They live with my mom in a huge house. My brother-in-law dotes on them all. My mom still insists on doing all the cooking, but I think they at least have a maid service.”

“I didn’t mean right now.” Finn laughed. “Although I should probably make the most of it while you’re in a talking mood.”

“I’m not in a talking mood. I’m
never
in a talking mood.” Even without the curse, she just wasn’t that kind of person.

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked. It’s important to you to know.”

His mouth was actually hanging open.

“You don’t have to look so shocked.”

He closed it and laughed again.

This was the Finn she remembered. Always laughing. He had seemed so carefree. It was probably part of what drew her to him. They were opposites in that regard. They both had laser focus when it came to their careers, but he knew how to shut it off. Jazz was always thinking. He knew how to let go and just have fun.

“What about your dad?” he asked.

Shit.

Her insides turned to ice and her mouth went dry. This was one of the reasons she hated talking to people about personal things. It was never enough—always led to more questions, whether she was ready to answer them or not.

She swallowed a few times, then shook her head and murmured, “Not yet. Okay?”

His smile faded, his expression turning gentle. His voice was equally so as he said, “Yeah. Sure.”

She tried to shake it off, focusing on the task at hand.

“If we’re not going to call the police and we’re stuck here for now, should we try to find Travis’s house? You said he lives nearby. We could hang out in the bushes and watch for him.”

The idea made her skin crawl. There would be bugs and lizards and snakes. Who knew what else this far into the swamp. Alligators, probably.

She pushed down her fear. She would help Finn however he needed it.

“He’s probably out checking traps right now. He does it every morning and evening.”

“Checking traps?”

“He’s a taxidermist.”

“Oh.” Jazz felt a shiver. She had never understood the allure of stuffing an animal and displaying it. “Family reunions must have been creepy as hell.”

Finn laughed again, and shook his head. “I don’t doubt it. Look, it’s not safe for you to stay with the SUV.”