Page 78 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

“I’m fine,” I say, annoyed by how breathless I sound. “But he got away. Ran toward the back fence. We might still be able to⁠—”

Finn isn’t listening. His hands are suddenly on me, one gripping my uninjured arm to steady me, the other reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. Before I can process it, he’s pulled it over his head and pressed it firmly against my wound.

“What are you doing?” I ask, too thrown to pull away. Nobody puts their hands on me that fast without getting hurt for it.

“You’re bleeding,” he says, his voice tight with worry. “Pretty badly, Sophie.”

I look down stupidly at the shirt pressed against my arm. The blood is soaking through, but the pressure is helping.

“It’s just a scratch,” I say weakly.

“That’s not a scratch.” Finn is breathing hard, his hand pressing harder against my arm, and I become suddenly aware of how close he is, the heat coming off his skin, the way his eyes are fixed on mine.

More footsteps and voices are closing in, flashlight beams cutting through the dark as the security team responds to the alarm.

Ethan’s head snaps toward the sound. “Finn, take her to the house. Now.”

“What about⁠—”

“The security team is almost here. They’ll want to know what happened, who was involved.” His voice is calm but quick. “We can’t blow Sophie’s cover. As far as anyone knows, she was asleep in her room when the alarm went off.”

He’s right. If anyone sees me like this—bleeding, disheveled—there will be questions Sophie Dysart can’t answer.

“I’ll deal with the security team,” Ethan says. “Tell them I spotted the intruder myself. But I need to know what happened first. Quickly.”

I push through the fog of adrenaline and focus. “Male, around five-ten to five-eleven. Black clothes, ski mask, no identifying features. He moved like someone with training, but he was nervous—probably his first time at this location.”

Ethan nods. “Entry point?”

“The blind spot I flagged on Friday. The window above the loading dock. He was already working on the latch when I found him. Another minute and he’d have been inside.”

“And the alarm?”

“He had a gun. When I disarmed him it hit the side of the building. That’s what triggered it.” I nod toward the base of the wall. “It’s in the grass over there. Grab it before your security people do, and get it to Declan’s team. And the exterior cameras. West side, three angles at least. Get them wiped before anyone reviews them.”

“I’ll text Max,” Ethan says. “He’s in New York tonight, but he can wipe them remotely.”

“He had a gun.” Finn’s voice is tight. “He pointed a gun at you.”

“What about the knife?” Ethan asks, his eyes on my arm.

“Somewhere near the window. I broke his wrist getting it away from him, so wherever he’s going, he’ll need medical attention.”

Ethan’s eyes flick to my hood, bunched around my neck. “Did he see your face?”

“No. I had my hood up the whole time. He saw someone who can fight, but that’s all he saw.”

“Good.” There’s an edge in Ethan’s voice I haven’t heard before. “That’s good.”

The flashlights are getting close now. I can make out individual words—perimeter, breach, secure the area.

“Finn, go,” Ethan says. “Now. Take her to the house and stay there until I’m back.”

Finn hesitates, his eyes moving between me and Ethan and the approaching lights, his hand still pressed against my wound.

“Can you walk?” Ethan asks me, though his tone suggests he already knows.

I almost laugh. “Are you kidding me?”