a large boulder and the front of the truck was crushed in. Hence the engine sliding down and back and forcing the dash into Finn’s legs.
Finn watched him walk round but nothing in his expression gave away any kind of connection. If anything Finn’s eyes were fixed firmly on Max’s journey to the window and his face was blank. The two other firefighters stood back as Max muscled his way in.
“Fuck, Finn,” he said carefully.
“They wanna cut my truck,” Finn said. His words were clear, his eyes bright, he didn’t seem pale, and for a second Max had hope that the man he wanted to call lover was perfectly fine.
“They have to.” Max reached in the open window and pressed a hand gently to Finn’s knee. When he lifted it to show Finn the blood, Finn paled in response. “We need to get you out. Your legs are compressed and we won’t know what’s there until we can get you out. Finn? Look at me, Finn.”
Finn looked up from examining his knees and there was less colour in his face. “The brakes didn’t work,” Finn said softly.
Max filed that fact away and stepped to one side whilst a paramedic checked Finn’s vitals. Then the firefighters took over. In less than thirty minutes Finn was free of the dash and in a few seconds more he was out and on a stretcher. He was pale but talking and Max held back a little, caught between discussing the car and finding out what the hell injuries Finn was experiencing. Relief cut through him when he saw that the damage wasn’t as bad as his worst nightmares had him imagining. The blood was copious but this was from cuts above Finn’s knees and he could move his toes. This wasn’t some kind of compression drama where removing the obstruction led to the victim bleeding out.
“Max?”
Finn called him over and the paramedics waited patiently when Max leaned in.
“Think I’m gonna be sleeping in hospital today,” Finn said. He smiled as he said it.
“I’m guessing so,” Max responded with as much calm as he could muster.
“Rain check?”
The paramedics began the careful climb to get Finn and themselves up out of the water and to the rig.
Max smiled at Finn. “Rain check.”
* * * *
Max was way past pissed and onto murderous. The mechanic didn’t hold back on his assessment of what was sitting in his bay.
“The brake line was cut a small amount. The fluid leaked and the more Corporal Ryan used them, the less fluid there was until there was nothing left. Then there would be complete failure.”
“And what is your assessment on how it became damaged?”
The mechanic looked up at him from his crouch. “In my experience this kind of damage can be nothing but deliberate, but we’ll need to get it evaluated independently. I’m not an expert in this so you may wanna call the cops and update them ASAP. I’ll put through my official report as well.”
With a curt nod and a single word of thanks, Max had his cell out and connected through to the department. They were aware Finn had been in an accident but nothing would shake them more than to find out Finn had been deliberately targeted. This made it easier, though. Two attempts with one person as the common denominator? Someone wanted Finn Ryan dead.
Chapter Seven
Finn hated hospitals as much as the people working in hospitals hated him. Not only had he been forced to lie on a bed to be poked and prodded, but also the nurse next to his bed was pissed at him. It didn’t help that she was friends with his mom and had changed his diapers when he was a kid. Sometimes small towns sucked.
“If you move then I will inject you with a muscle relaxant.”
“Then stop hurting me,” Finn snapped, irritated.
She was forcing him to bend then relax his left knee, the most injured of the two—and it
freaking hurt.
“Suck it up, Ryan,” she said with no small amount of impatience. “You got nothing
more than scratches here.”
Finn didn’t call two-inch gouges in the meaty part above his knees scratches. There had
been blood. A
Finn watched him walk round but nothing in his expression gave away any kind of connection. If anything Finn’s eyes were fixed firmly on Max’s journey to the window and his face was blank. The two other firefighters stood back as Max muscled his way in.
“Fuck, Finn,” he said carefully.
“They wanna cut my truck,” Finn said. His words were clear, his eyes bright, he didn’t seem pale, and for a second Max had hope that the man he wanted to call lover was perfectly fine.
“They have to.” Max reached in the open window and pressed a hand gently to Finn’s knee. When he lifted it to show Finn the blood, Finn paled in response. “We need to get you out. Your legs are compressed and we won’t know what’s there until we can get you out. Finn? Look at me, Finn.”
Finn looked up from examining his knees and there was less colour in his face. “The brakes didn’t work,” Finn said softly.
Max filed that fact away and stepped to one side whilst a paramedic checked Finn’s vitals. Then the firefighters took over. In less than thirty minutes Finn was free of the dash and in a few seconds more he was out and on a stretcher. He was pale but talking and Max held back a little, caught between discussing the car and finding out what the hell injuries Finn was experiencing. Relief cut through him when he saw that the damage wasn’t as bad as his worst nightmares had him imagining. The blood was copious but this was from cuts above Finn’s knees and he could move his toes. This wasn’t some kind of compression drama where removing the obstruction led to the victim bleeding out.
“Max?”
Finn called him over and the paramedics waited patiently when Max leaned in.
“Think I’m gonna be sleeping in hospital today,” Finn said. He smiled as he said it.
“I’m guessing so,” Max responded with as much calm as he could muster.
“Rain check?”
The paramedics began the careful climb to get Finn and themselves up out of the water and to the rig.
Max smiled at Finn. “Rain check.”
* * * *
Max was way past pissed and onto murderous. The mechanic didn’t hold back on his assessment of what was sitting in his bay.
“The brake line was cut a small amount. The fluid leaked and the more Corporal Ryan used them, the less fluid there was until there was nothing left. Then there would be complete failure.”
“And what is your assessment on how it became damaged?”
The mechanic looked up at him from his crouch. “In my experience this kind of damage can be nothing but deliberate, but we’ll need to get it evaluated independently. I’m not an expert in this so you may wanna call the cops and update them ASAP. I’ll put through my official report as well.”
With a curt nod and a single word of thanks, Max had his cell out and connected through to the department. They were aware Finn had been in an accident but nothing would shake them more than to find out Finn had been deliberately targeted. This made it easier, though. Two attempts with one person as the common denominator? Someone wanted Finn Ryan dead.
Chapter Seven
Finn hated hospitals as much as the people working in hospitals hated him. Not only had he been forced to lie on a bed to be poked and prodded, but also the nurse next to his bed was pissed at him. It didn’t help that she was friends with his mom and had changed his diapers when he was a kid. Sometimes small towns sucked.
“If you move then I will inject you with a muscle relaxant.”
“Then stop hurting me,” Finn snapped, irritated.
She was forcing him to bend then relax his left knee, the most injured of the two—and it
freaking hurt.
“Suck it up, Ryan,” she said with no small amount of impatience. “You got nothing
more than scratches here.”
Finn didn’t call two-inch gouges in the meaty part above his knees scratches. There had
been blood. A
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