Page 32 of Yours on the Canvas

He sits at the counter, adjusting his coat as his eyes travel up my body finally settling on my face.

“Now, Dog. How about a coffee for your uncle.” his voice slick and dangerous.

I’m frozen by that name.

I need to say something. Yell. Do anything. Tell him to fuck off, and leave, but all I can muster is one word.

“Finn!” My voice tremors as I call his name. It tears from my throat, my eyes not leaving my uncle.

Ray doesn’t even flinch. He just offers a thin, patronizing smile, leaning further over the counter. “Go ahead, call your little watchdog. Do you really think he can protect you from me, Jack?”

Before I can answer, the heavy office door swings open with a sharp bang.

Finn steps out, his eyes instantly locking onto my uncle sitting in front of me. The shift in him is instantaneous; the easy, relaxed man vanishes, replaced entirely by the fighter whose broken bones and didn’t flinch while doing it.

His eyes sweep from Ray to me, seeing the white-knuckle grip of my hands and the pale terror frozen on my face.

“Step away from him,” Finn says, his voice a low, lethal rumble that vibrates with fury.

Ray glances at Finn, unbothered, almost amused. “Ah. Finnegan. So good to see you again. I wondered when the stray would bark.”

Finn doesn’t hesitate. He crosses the distance between us fury etched on his face. He moves me out of the way, positioning himself squarely between my father and me.

The shaking in my hands doesn’t stop, but as Finn reaches for me, his fingers wrapping firmly around my wrist to anchor me, the ice in my chest breaks slightly.

“You’re trespassing,” Finn says, his eyes locked onto Ray’s, cold as Campbell River winters.

“Now, now, Finnegan. I’m just visiting family,” Ray replies smoothly, though his eyes narrow as he assesses the lethal threat standing in front of me.

Finn’s grip on my wrist tightens just a fraction, “He’s not yours anymore,” Finn says, every word a promise of violence if Ray makes another move. “And if you ever come near him again, you won’t walk out of Campbell River, I’ll make sure you’ll leave in a fucking box.”

Ray holds our gaze for one long, suffocating moment, then slowly raises his hands in a mock surrender, a sick smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmurs, climbing down from the seat. He turns on his heel and walks out of the building, out into the darkness as if he owns it.

I stare at the spot where he sat, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps, as Finn stands in front of me, “I’ve got you,” Finn whispers, his own breathing heavy. “He’s gone. You’re safe.”

Half an hour later my body still hasn’t stopped shaking. Finn sits beside me, talking quietly, as Silas and Deck return, laughing as they walk through the door, but their laughter dies the minute they see me.

“What happened?” Silas is at my side instantly.

I reach for him, and he pulls me into his arms, rocking me slowly while Finn explains about Rays’ visit.

The moment Finn says my uncles name, the shaking starts again. I’m a grown man, but I feel eight years old again, trapped in that house all over again.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” Silas murmurs. “Finn, can you finish up here?”

“Sure thing.” He looks at me, “You ring me, okay? I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Deck wraps an arm around him, steadying him as they watch us leave.

* * *

The house is dark and quiet when we get home. Hale is staying at a friends place and I take a second to just soak in the silence.

“Do you want something to eat. A drink?”

I shake my head, “Just bed.” I murmur.

“Let’s go.” He says, taking my hand, and leading me to his room. He heads to the bathroom as I kick off my shoes.