Page 22 of When You’re Broken (Finn Wright #11)

Finn pushed through the heavy double doors of the hospital ward, a swirl of antiseptic odor hitting him as fluorescent lights gleamed on polished linoleum floors.

He and Amelia had almost sprinted through the corridors—he half out of breath from the adrenaline, she radiating tension that coiled across every line of her body.

Now, at the threshold, two uniformed constables stood at attention, each nodding somberly as they recognized them.

“Is this Rob Collins’s room?” Finn asked, short on air.

The nearest constable, a stocky man with clipped hair, responded quietly, “Yes, sir. We’ve been instructed to keep watch.” He glanced at his partner, a woman with kind eyes who bowed her head in respect.

Amelia touched Finn’s shoulder as they pushed the door open and entered the private room.

Inside, everything seemed too quiet. A single bed occupied the center, monitors beeping in subdued patterns.

A tall, rolling IV stand hung with translucent bags, their tubes snaking into the man who lay unmoving under the crisp white sheets: Rob Collins, the longtime friend who’d pulled Finn through college scrapes and had formed with him the easy camaraderie of a decade’s trust.

Now, Rob lay motionless—an oxygen mask strapped over his mouth, a swath of bandages taped around his abdomen.

With the monitors relaying heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels, the air thickened with quiet dread.

The overhead fluorescent hummed, the only competing sound was a slow, rhythmic beep from one of the machines. It was an unnerving, fragile lullaby.

In a plastic chair beside the bed, Eleanor Matthews sat with her back hunched forward, her hand clasping Rob’s.

Her blonde hair fell over her face, and she slowly looked up at the sound of Finn and Amelia stepping in.

Fatigue and sorrow lined her features. She seemed startled to see them, but relief flickered in her eyes, like a candle’s faint glow in the dark.

“Eleanor,” Finn whispered, approaching with measured steps. “We came as soon as we heard.”

Eleanor swallowed, tears threatening to break loose. “He’s in a coma, the doctors said. He—He lost so much blood, and the bullet tore through… it’s all complicated. They don’t know if he’ll make it.” Her voice cracked on the last words.

Finn felt his chest clench, grief and anger warring within him.

Rob, battered and comatose, was nearly unrecognizable under the medical gear.

This shouldn’t be happening. He forced composure for Eleanor’s sake.

“I’m so sorry,” he managed, hand trembling as he reached for Rob’s free hand.

The man was warm to the touch but unresponsive, eyes closed behind taped eyelids.

Amelia stood on the other side of the bed, near the IV stand. She brushed her own tears away, her voice quieter than usual. “Do the doctors have any timeline for his recovery?”

Eleanor shook her head. “They said it’s hour by hour right now…

that next few days are critical. If he stabilizes, maybe…

But they just don’t know. He’s lost so much blood.

” She drew in a shaky breath, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“It all happened so fast. Wendell, he showed up out of nowhere. He tied me up, threatened me with a gun—forced me to lure Rob back. Then he… he shot him, left him bleeding on the kitchen floor. I thought—I thought he was dead.” Her voice caught in a sob.

Amelia circled around, gently resting a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. “You must have been terrified. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

Eleanor nodded, blinking away tears. “I managed to get out of my wrist binds after Wendell left. God, my hands still feel raw. Then I called for an ambulance… R-Rob was unconscious...” Her sentence trailed into quiet weeping.

Finn closed his eyes, pressing Rob’s limp hand gently. The beep of the heart monitor pulsed in tandem with the ache building behind Finn’s ribs.

Amelia’s expression hardened, tears giving way to the steely focus that spoke of her unrelenting vow. “We’ll catch Wendell,” she vowed, voice tinged with the fury of her own grief. “He won’t get away with this.”

Finn felt something within him fracture.

He let go of Rob’s hand, stepping back, a tremble sneaking into his posture.

“We can’t lose him, Amelia,” he whispered.

“We’ve been friends for a decade. He’s my best friend.

” The memory of their college days, nights spent planning the future, wrestled with the stark hospital gloom.

He remembered being in a similar room before, several times in his life.

Watching his mother fade. His grandfather.

A partner from the FBI, too. And now this.

A swirl of rage flared in him, fueling a desperate desire to act.

“Amelia,” he said, turning to face her, voice low and intense, “this is proof that Wendell’s unstoppable right now.

He’ll do anything to get to you, or me, or whoever he wants to hurt.

You can’t keep giving him targets. Please, you have to go into hiding.

” His voice cracked with the sheer force of the plea.

“Let me handle this. I’ll find Reed myself. ”

Her eyes widened, shock and frustration mingling. She drew closer, keeping her volume measured for Eleanor’s sake. “Don’t say that. I’m not leaving you. And we’re in this as partners, remember?”

He clenched his jaw. “Partners, yes, but… you’re the center of his crosshairs.

With you safe, I can hunt him down with no fear of him using you as leverage.

” He lowered his tone further, stepping out of earshot of Eleanor, who gazed at them with exhausted helplessness.

“Look at what just happened to Rob. That could be you next. I can’t let that happen, Amelia.

” The drive in his words was close to desperation.

“But, my brother...”

Before she could respond further, the door to the hospital room opened.

Inspector McNeill entered, footsteps subdued on the sterile floor.

He looked from Eleanor to Finn and Amelia with a grim expression.

“We have something,” he began quietly, pulling a plastic evidence bag from his coat.

“This was left at Rob’s house, presumably for Amelia.

” The enveloped item, a small manila envelope, was smeared in dark stains—Rob’s blood, no doubt.

Amelia stared at it, anger rising anew. “What’s inside?”

McNeill extended the bag. “Photos. Of Finn, of your cottage, your daily routes. Like Wendell’s letting you know he’s got eyes on both of you.” He paused, letting the weight sink in. “We need to talk.”

Finn’s stomach twisted at the mention of pictures of him, the cottage— Wendell’s continuing to get far too close. He caught Amelia’s eyes, reading the swirl of fear and indignation there.

McNeill inhaled sharply. “Given this, plus Rob’s shooting, I have to insist: both of you stand down. We’ll put you in protective custody. We can’t risk you continuing on this investigation when you’re clear targets.”

Amelia’s posture tensed like a coiled spring. “No,” she spat, voice trembling. “I’m not backing off. If Wendell’s threatened me, so be it. I’m not letting him roam free, murdering people, kidnapping my brother—”

McNeill raised a palm. “Enough, Winters. This is no longer a request. You’re compromised by personal involvement, and you’re the direct target of a known multiple murderer, who we know now can get to us. I’m relieving you of duty for your own safety.”

She clenched her fists, about to argue further. Eleanor looked up from Rob’s bedside, tears shining. “Amelia… you saw what happened to Rob. Do you really want that for Finn, or for yourself?” She brushed trembling fingers over Rob’s bandaged wrist. “He might not make it. Please.”

The quiet hush of the heart monitor returned, a beep that hammered each second of tension.

Amelia swallowed, tears edging her eyes.

She cast a glance at Finn, who was silent, shoulders slumped with the heaviness of anguish.

He’d pleaded with her to go into hiding only moments ago.

Her jaw worked, trying to form an objection, but the sight of Rob’s inert form in the bed eroded her resolve.

Finally, she exhaled, voice cracked. "Fine. I'll— I'll stand down." Her breath hitched, tears threatening to spill. "But, damn it, we need to get Wendell anyway. Don't you dare leave my brother to die?" She addressed McNeill with a fierce glare, though it brimmed more with heartbreak than fury.

McNeill nodded, the set of his mouth grim. “We’ll do everything, Winters. I promise.” His tone bore no trace of triumph, only solemn duty. “I’ll put a round-the-clock guard on you and Finn. There’s a hotel we use for protective custody. Two constables are waiting in the hall to take you there.”

Amelia hung her head, swallowing back tears of frustration. She turned to Finn, heartbreak plain in her expression. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice quivering. “I— We should do more. But… I can’t watch you end up like Rob.”

Finn gently clasped her arm, offering what little comfort he could. “I feel the same way about you,” he admitted. “But we’ll let them handle it now, for Rob’s sake. And for yours.” He turned, stepping to Rob’s bedside. Eleanor edged away slightly, giving him room.

Finn bent down, pressing a trembling kiss to his friend’s forehead. The beep of the monitor pulsed, an unchanging note. “Don’t give up, Buddy,” Finn whispered, tears finally cresting in his eyes. “I need you back.”

A strangled hush followed. Finn drew back, blinking moisture away, rejoining Amelia at the foot of the bed. She squeezed Eleanor’s hand gently, murmuring a final apology and promise that they’d see this through eventually.

Eleanor watched them go, words failing her, her gaze drifting between the battered policeman in the bed and the policeman’s friends she was losing to protective custody. She nodded, tears shining in her eyes. “Stay safe,” she rasped.

Turning away, Finn walked out, his breath catching in the ache of heartbreak and frustration. Amelia followed, eyes still damp. In the corridor, McNeill trailed them, gesturing for the two constables standing at attention. “Take them to the secure car, then to the designated hotel.”

Amelia halted at the threshold, spinning back to face McNeill. She squared her shoulders, tears replaced by a steeled determination, and said, “This all better be worth it.”