Leah's POV
"Finn... Stop..." I whispered.
Hearing my voice, he stopped what he was doing and put me back on the ground.
Then, he pulled himself out of the swimming pool, wrapped himself with a towel, and sat on the bench far away from me.
When I finally managed to get back on my feet and approached him, I found that he was trembling.
"I'm sorry..." He apologized in a robotic voice with his head tilted to the side.
The man, who gave me the best orgasm I had ever had, didn't even want to look at me.
I sat next to him and said, "Finn, what happened to you? Why are you so afraid of me? You know that I'm not one of those bad people who wants to hurt you. You don't have to do anything to please me because of fear. I just want to help you, but I can't help you if you don't let me."
Finn didn't say a word. His eyes were empty again. I knew he had shut himself down again.
Whenever I want to talk to him, he refuses to listen.
What's going on? I became agitated. Have I ever done anything to hurt him in any way? I'm just trying to help him. I know he's mentally challenged, but it's not that difficult for him to tell who's good to him and who's not.
"Miss Leah, breakfast is ready."
I heard Mr. Carson's voice.
"Come on, Finn. Let's have some breakfast together," I stood up and said.
Maybe he would feel happier if he had something to eat. I thought to myself.
"Could you please let me go?" He asked in a low voice. "I will do everything for you. Please let me go."
"We'll talk about this over breakfast," I said in a low voice.
He looked panicked and withdrew a bit from me.
I sighed and said, "Finn, I didn't mean to scare you. I get a little bit grumpy when there's no food in my belly. Could we please eat something together and then we'll talk about it?"
Finn nodded without saying anything.
"Do you want some toast? Maybe some strawberry jam?" I waved the bread basket in my hands and asked Finn.
Finn stared at me and shook his head.
He looked very uncomfortable being surrounded by food and porcelains.
I wondered if I could be a bit more relaxed if we were sitting on the lawn and having a picnic.
"Come on, Finn. You barely touched anything. You can't just drink some milk for breakfast," I frowned.
Finn looked panicked and instinctively wanted to pick something from the table on his plate, but he obviously didn't even know where to begin with.
I sighed silently and said, "How about let me help you out a bit? I'll make you a piece of toast with strawberry jam. Have a try. You might like it."
"OK." Finn nodded and put down the milk jugger in his hands.
"You can still drink your milk if you like," I said.
Finn picked the milk jugger up immediately.
"Finn, relaxed. You can eat whatever food you want to eat. If you want to drink some milk, you can drink it. If you don't want to drink it, you can put it down. It's all your call. You can make yourself home."
When he heard the word "home", I could see flashes of tears in his eyes.
He was so hopeless and so vulnerable. He must be terrified right now.
"Can you tell me something about your home?" I asked, wiping some jam on the toast.
"No home," he replied.
"Everybody has got one," I said.
"No home." He repeated himself. This time with more determination in his voice.
I knew this was the only thing he could do to defend himself. I totally understood. Not everybody wanted to talk about their family.
In Finn's case, he probably couldn't even remember his family.
I really need to ask my Father's physician to take a look at Finn. Maybe do a scan on his head or something. But I wondered if they could find anything abnormal in his head because if he didn't speak, he looked like a perfectly ordinary man with extraordinarily good looks.
I used to work in the autism recovery center when I was a teenager and his behavior reminded me of those autistic children. But unlike people who suffer from autism, Finn was sophisticated. He could understand people's emotions and act accordingly.
This was rather strange.
A dangerous thought occurred in my head -
Is he intentionally acting in this way to win my sympathy? But for what? Plus, that strange bond feeling between us can't be faked.
I made him a piece of toast and handed it to him. He took a bite and chewed with a serious look on his face.
"Do you like it?" I asked.
He nodded, still looking serious.
"Finn, you told me that you wanted to go away. Where do you want to go?" I asked.
He immediately looked upset and put down the half-bitten toast on the plate.
"The club," he replied.
"The Sheridan Club?" I asked.
Finn nodded.
"But why do you want to go back there? I thought Sak was hurting you." I frowned.
Finn clenched his fists and said word by word, "He didn't hurt me."
I sighed and pulled my chair next to him. Finn took a glance at me and then lowered his head. He didn't move away. His eyes cast downward with a brooding expression etched on his handsome face. His features were angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that would any woman's heart skip a beat. But there was sadness in his eyes that belied his physical attractiveness.
He was lost in thought, wrestling with doubts that weighed heavily on his mind. The melancholy that seemed to cling to him like a shadow was palpable, and it made me instinctively want to lower my voice out of respect for his sorrow -
"Finn, you know you can tell me everything. I'm your friend."
For a moment, Finn's eyes fixed on a point in the distance. His thoughts were again far away, and it was clear that he was grappling with something that was tearing him apart inside. Then, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he was trying to summon the courage to face reality. I thought when he opened his eyes, I could see the flicker of determination in his gaze.
But no.
There was nothing in his eyes except fear.
My mind raced fast.
What could make a person so determined to go back to the person who hurt him the most?
There was only one answer.
I took a deep breath and asked, "Finn, is Sak Doyle your brother?"