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Stumped, I actually had to stop and think about Finn. I didn’t actually know anything useful about him outside of the fact he was a psychopath.

Since he wasn’t in either house, I decided to go where I’d last seen him. It was a bitch to get out of the house without anyone following me, but somehow, I pulled it off.

An effing miracle.

The tent was still standing exactly where I’d remembered it to be last. I almost wished it’d been burned down so I would have every reason to buy a new one—a new one I could replace with shiny new memories that didn’t involve a man who I trusted kidnapping me.

I found Finn alone inside the tent.

He looked a lot better than he had the last time I’d seen him, that was for sure. He’d clearly bathed. His hair was clean and healthy looking. His clothes no longer looked ravished and dirty. He was clean and very well put together in clothes that were very much his own, and he looked more than comfortable in them.

I had never wanted to punch someone in the throat so hard before ever. Punching him would do me no good, though, so I kept my hands all to myself.

I did not even give one single crap anymore about how Quinton felt about this man. So they could have been friends once and went through a rough night together, but that did not mean I needed or wanted to take him on as my friend as well.

Fuck Quinton.

And furthermore, fuck Finn.

“Where did your little wannabe boyfriends go?” I asked as I pushed the tent flap aside and stepped inside the space. “They finally get a load of your inner psycho and bail on you?”

Okay, so perhaps that was a bit too harsh, but I was done hand holding stupid witch boys. No more coddling, it was time to kick all their asses back in line.

“Leave me alone,” Finn grumbled sullenly as he curled in on himself pathetically. He lay on his side and pulled his knees up to his chest.

His shoulders shook, and I knew he was crying.

Good grief.

Where had his moxie gone? He was usually a whole lot less… breakable.

How sad and very pathetic. Now I wanted to punch him even more than I had starting out.

“Jesus, Finn. Get yourself together.”

If Tyson were here, I just knew he’d make some comment about Finn’s lack of testicles. Tyson had no problem talking about his own balls. Personally, I didn’t get what all the fuss was about but, well, men.

“I miss Rebel,” he sniveled.

I most certainly wasn’t the right person to be dealing with this crying business. I always tried to cry in private when there was no one else around to witness it. Either that or I tried to cry in silence if I had to do it in front of people.

If I had cried in front of Vivian, she would have laughed in my face right before slapping the crap out of me.

If I slapped Finn around, maybe that would help him?

I cleared my throat as I gingerly approached the bed. “So they left you, did they? Is that what this is really about?”

I mean, he didn’t really care all that much about Rebel, right? I was a firm believer that you didn’t ever abuse the ones you loved, and Finn had grossly mistreated Rebel at every turn. I thought he’d been putting on a show to make us all feel sorry for him or endear himself to us.

If that was love, then I didn’t want any part of it. Toxic love wasn’t for me, thank you very much.

Finn swiped at his cheeks, smearing the moisture on his face. “No, you fucking moron, they didn’t leave me. I saved them, remember? People don’t usually run away from their saviors. What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Well, wasn’t that a loaded question? I didn’t have enough time to list it all off for him. We were on a time sensitive mission here, I just needed to sort his stupid emotions out so we could get to it.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and tamped down the urge to shake some damn sense into him. “If they didn’t run away from you, then where are they?”

Truth be told, I didn’t really care where they were. I just figured that since he did seem to care, it was only polite that I asked.