Out of Mind Page 5
Finn cursed under his breath and stood. “You make me sound like I’m an old man who can’t take care of myself. I’m injured, not useless. I can organize it all.”
“I know. I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Carrie. It’s just that I’m realizing I’m not your boyfriend anymore. I’m a fucking burden.” He gripped his head and gave me his back. “You know what? Forget I said that. I think I’m going to excuse myself before I say something else I’ll regret.”
I lurched to my feet. “Don’t go. I’m sorry.”
“I told you to stop fucking apologizing to me,” he snapped.
“But—”
My dad came up behind Finn. “Is every—?”
Finn whirled on my dad, fist raised, his breathing coming fast. He looked a second away from clocking my dad in the jaw. Dad jumped back, his eyes wide and his hands up in surrender. I ran to Finn’s side, and Riley bolted around the couch to Dad. “Finn.”
“Shit.” Finn covered his face with his good hand. “I’m sorry. You snuck up on me.” He shook his head, but didn’t drop his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay, Finn.” I locked eyes with Dad. “It’s okay. He’s all right.”
Dad broke gazes with me, his face pale but otherwise seeming unaffected. “Yes. I’m fine, Griffin.”
Finn turned to me and finally showed his face. He looked ravaged. Terrified. Broken. It’s the first time he’d dropped the act around me, and it hurt so freaking much. I opened my arms, and he dove into them, bending down and hugging me with his good one. “Fuck, Carrie. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”
“Shh.” I hugged him as tight as I could, meeting Riley’s gaze over Finn’s shoulder. “I’m here with you.”
They needed to go. Needed to let Finn recover without an audience. He seemed to get my message. “Mr. Wallington?” Riley said a bit haltingly. “Let’s go check on your tree and see if the household staff needs any help. It’s a fine tree, if I may say so myself.”
Dad looked less than willing, but good manners won out. “Sure thing. Let’s go.” He started for the door but froze. “Carrie, if you need help, I’ll be right out there.”
I nodded but didn’t answer. I was too busy holding Finn and trying to calm him down. Once we were alone, I kissed the top of his head. “I’m here, and you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay. I’m not.” He clung to me so tightly I could barely breathe. His face was pressed into my chest, but I could still feel him shivering in my arms. “Shit, I can’t do this to you anymore. I can’t be this guy.”
My heart stuttered. “You didn’t do anything to me, Finn. I’m fine.” I ran my hands over his bald head, skipping over his puckered wound. I didn’t know if they still hurt. “You’re fine. We’ll get through this.”
He shook his head but didn’t release me. “You don’t deserve this.”
“Hey. Stop that.” I pulled back and forced him to look at me. Cupping his cheeks, I narrowed my eyes on him. “You don’t deserve this. You went there because you were trying to make life better for us. For me. If anything, this is all my fault. If we hadn’t met, and you hadn’t loved me, you never would have taken this job.” My voice cracked. “Anything you’re going through right now, it’s on me. Not you.”
He shook his head frantically. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I lived. They died.” He stared off into the distance. “They all died in front of me. I saw it happen. They all just died. Why did I live? Why me?”
I swallowed back a sob. He looked so lost. “Because I need you.”
“I need you too.” He seemed to snap back into reality. He turned to me and his face softened a fraction. “So damn much, but it’s not fair. None of this is fair.”
Was it not fair that he needed me, or was he saying it wasn’t fair he was still alive? I wasn’t sure, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to find out. “I know it’s not.”
“I can’t do this to you,” he repeated. “I won’t do it. I won’t ruin you. I won’t take you down with me.”
His words filled me with fear. It was as if he was telling me he was leaving. We’d promised to love each other forever. He couldn’t leave. I gripped him even tighter. “Stop talking like that. You’re scaring me.”
“You should be fucking scared of me.” He laughed harshly. “Look at me.”
“I am looking at you.” I leaned in and kissed him gently, even though my fingers ached to slap him until he stopped talking nonsense. “I’m always looking at you. You’re gorgeous, brave, kind, and loving. You’re Finn, and I love you just the way you are. Forever, no matter what.”
He drew in a ragged breath. “Yeah, but I think you see the old me. Not the ‘me’ I am now. The me I’ll always be from now on. The guys died. Every. Single. One.”
“But you lived.” I shook him a little. “You’re here, with me. There’s a reason for that, don’t you think?”
“I know, but I’m not here,” he whispered. “Not really. You’d be better off if I just—”
“Don’t you even think about finishing that thought,” I hissed. “I’m telling you right now, I won’t accept it.”
He averted his eyes. “But it’s true. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
I pushed him a little bit, anger taking over and making me forget I might hurt him. What had he been about to say? Was he going to say I would be better off if he’d just leave me…or if he’d died? Either way, he was wrong. So freaking wrong. “I will kick your ass so fucking hard you won’t be able to sit straight for a week. Do you hear me?”
That seemed to bring him back to life. His lips even twitched as he turned back to me. “Is that so? A whole week?”
“Yeah. That’s so.” I curled my hands into fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. “I can’t live without you. I can’t do anything if you leave me. Don’t think it. Don’t dream it. Don’t even say it. I’ll never forgive you if you do. Not in a million years. Got it?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I hate doing this to you. Hate being fucking broken. This isn’t who you fell in love with.”
“We’re all broken in different ways. You feel shattered now, but it’ll get better.” I ran my fingers over his jawline. It was so strong. So resilient. Just like him. He didn’t realize how strong he still was. “Love is about staying with each other, in sickness and in health. I’m not leaving because you’ve been injured. And you can’t push me away. I won’t let you do that to us.”
His resolve cracked. I could see it, as if it was a physical thing. “Carrie…”
“No. Don’t Carrie me.”
I kissed him, trying to convey the depth of my devotion and love in that simple kiss. He clung to me, making a broken sound in the back of his throat. His hand trembled as he cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss.
Something crashed behind us and he jumped to his feet, shoving me behind him. Riley stood at the door, his eyes locked on us. “It’s just me,” he said softly. “I’m going to head out now. The snow is getting pretty heavy.”
Finn relaxed marginally. “I’m sorry about earlier. I…well, I’m…”
“Dude.” Riley held up a hand. “No explanations needed. Seriously.”
Finn gave him a long look and nodded. “Thanks, man.”
“Are you sure you can make it home okay?” I glanced out the window. The snow was coming down really heavily now. I felt bad that he’d come all this way to visit us and I’d basically said hi and that was it. “You just got here.”
“I’ll be fine.” Riley smiled. “I might be in California now, but I’m still used to the D.C. winters. I’m not that much of a surfer boy.”
No, I only had one surfer boy in my life.
Finn gave him a small smile. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully the next time we see each other, I’m a little more put together.”
“I think you’re exactly the way a man should be after going through what you
went through.” Riley offered his hand. “Take it easy.”
Finn shook it. “You too.”
“I will.” Riley turned to me and hesitated. “Carrie? Want to walk me out?”
I looked at Finn. “I should probably—”
“You should walk him out.” Finn let go of me and stepped back, running his hand over his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
I didn’t want to leave him, but I couldn’t refuse. That would be rude. “All right.”
Riley started for the door, and I fell in to step with him. As we turned the corner, I peeked over my shoulder. Finn stood exactly where I’d left him. All alone.
“He’s having a hard time,” Riley said under his breath. “Be patient. I had a buddy come back from Iraq like this. He was drinking. Having panic attacks. It lasted for a long time. If he’d had someone who loved him the way you love Finn, then maybe…” Riley shook himself. “Keep being loving and kind, like you’re doing. Don’t let your dad tell you Finn needs space. He doesn’t. He needs you.”
I blinked back tears. “Finn thinks I’m better off without him, though. He told me so.”
“Right now, he thinks it’s true. Men like him push away their loved ones. They think they’re failures and not good enough to be loved.” Riley opened the front door and grabbed his coat. I followed him outside, hugging myself. “He will keep pushing you away. Just keep pulling him closer.”
I nodded and swallowed hard. “I’m trying.”
When we reached the front of his car, Riley brushed a finger across my cheek. It came back wet. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying. “Keep trying. And if you need to vent, give me a call. I’m an excellent listener.”
I nodded and forced a smile. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
“I know,” he teased. “You’d be a fool to not take me up on that offer. I’m a catch.”
“Yeah, you are.” I laughed. “I should hook you up with someone from my dorm.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m not ready for love yet.”
“You still love your ex?”
He hesitated and avoided my eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“Well, when you’re ready.”
“It’s a plan.” He opened his car door and started to get in. “Bye, Carrie.”
“Wait.” I stepped closer. “How long did it take your friend to get better?”
“He didn’t. He shot himself in the head a month and two days after he came back home. I found him that way.” Riley met my eyes. “Take care of him, Carrie. And watch him closely.”
I nodded and walked backward as I watched Riley get into the car, eager to get back to Finn. God, just the thought of him doing something like that…
I couldn’t even think it.
Ring, ring, ring.
No matter how many times I called, the result hadn’t changed. Dad’s voicemail picked up, announcing joyfully that he couldn’t come to the phone right now. I sighed and hung up without leaving a message. I’d already left him one. The snow kept coming down heavier and heavier, and it would only get worse after sunset.
Hell, even Riley was leaving.
I walked to the window and peeked through it, watching them like a voyeur. Riley had pulled his car up when they’d been carrying the tree inside, so I could see them perfectly from where I stood. When Riley reached out and touched her face, I wanted to scream at him to back the fuck off my girl, but I didn’t. I just watched.
They looked good together.
Pushing away from the window, I straightened my spine and grabbed my pills off the table, staring down at the small orange bottle. It was time for another dose, judging from the pain ripping through me.
“You need help with that?” Carrie’s mom asked hesitantly.
I jumped, my heart racing. Would I ever stop panicking when someone walked up behind me? Or would I forever be the scared, pansy-ass, shell of a man I’d once been? “Yeah. I can’t open it, ma’am.”
She approached slowly, as if uncertain of her welcome. “I’ll open it for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, holding it out to her. “I appreciate that.”
Senator Wallington followed her into the room, his blue eyes locked on mine. As his wife opened my pain meds, he grabbed an unopened bottle of Aquafina off the bar. My half-eaten turkey sandwich was still there, too. “You’ll need this opened, too, I presume?”
I licked my parched lips. I’d rather have a stiff drink, but the water would look better in front of them. God knew I already looked bad enough. “Yes, please, sir.”
He twisted the lid off and handed it to me. “You doing all right? Mixing alcohol and pills is generally discouraged.”
“I’m fine.” In a half an hour or so, I’d be feeling even better. I set the water down. Next, I took the pill from Carrie’s mom and popped it in my mouth, watching him the whole time. “Sorry about earlier.”
“It’s all right.” He sat down and crossed an ankle over a knee. “What time is your father expected back? It’s getting nasty out there.”
“I’m not sure. I called him a few times, but he’s not answering.” I shifted on my feet, blinking when the room spun. Weird. I didn’t remember it doing that before. “I might have to go out and look for him. Maybe Carrie knows where he went.”
“Where who went?” Carrie asked, her voice tight. “Sit down, Finn. You look dizzy.”
I wasn’t dizzy. I was fucking high. But I sat down anyway. She came to my side and curled her hand with mine, holding on tight. She seemed freaked out by something. “My dad. It’s getting bad out there, and he isn’t answering his phone.”
“We can go look for him if you want,” she said quickly. “He went to Target.”
I nodded. “Let’s go. I’m worried he’ll—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Senator Wallington said, his eyes on Carrie. For a second, I’d thought he was talking to me. “We’ll send out security in an all-terrain vehicle. You’re not going out in this mess in your Volvo.”
“I’ll go,” I said.
“No, you won’t. If you go, she’ll go.” Senator Wallington arched a brow at me. “Do you really want her out in this?”
I looked out the window, squinting. It looked blurry. “I guess not…”
“That’s what I thought.” Senator Wallington smoothed his suit jacket. “I’ll send Cortez and another man.”
“Hugh, are you sure we should make them go out in this?” Carrie’s mom asked, her voice worried. “It’s getting pretty dark out there, and the roads are bound to be treacherous.”
“All the more reason that we need to find Larry,” Carrie said, her voice insistent. “I can do it. I’ll be—”
“No,” Senator Wallington snarled. “Absolutely not.”
“Hugh. We need to—”
“Someone needs to go,” Carrie insisted.
“Enough of this!” I shouted, heading for the door. I stumbled on my second step. “You can argue about who should go. I’m going before it’s too late to get out of here.”
Carrie rushed after me. “You can’t drive. You’re…you’re…” She paused, and I could see her arguing with herself how best to get me to listen. She should just say it. You’re drunk. Say it, Carrie, say it. “Your arm is in a sling, so you won’t be able to control the vehicle if it slips.”
She didn’t say it.
“I don’t care, Carrie. He’s my dad.” I yanked the door open. “I’m not losing him, too.”
“Not losing who?” Dad asked, blinking at me. He looked past me, no doubt seeing Carrie, Senator Wallington, and Mrs. Wallington all hovering in the doorway. “What did I miss?”
“You,” I snapped, curling my hand around the knob so tight it hurt. “What did you need that was so important you had to drive in the snow?”
“My medicine,” Dad said calmly. He held up a prescription bag and shook it under my nose. “I knew the weather was going to get worse, so I figured it was n
ow or never. I chose now.”
“I don’t know what medicine was worth risking your life over.” I snatched the bag and struggled to pull out the orange pill bottle. I scanned the pill name before looking at Dad with a hollow pain in my chest. I recognized the name of the meds, damn it. “Why are you taking this? What aren’t you telling me?”
“My heart is acting up.” Dad took his medication back and dropped it into the bag. “It’s not a huge surprise. Your grandfather had issues, too.”
“Yeah. I remember.” I swallowed hard. It was all coming together now. “And he died of a heart attack. Did you have a heart attack? Is that why you didn’t come to California when the senator did?”
Dad flushed. “Yes.”
Anger rushed through me, red-hot and burning everything in its path. It collided with the ice-cold fear also coursing through my veins, creating a monstrous storm within me. “And you didn’t tell me because…?”
“Can I at least come inside before you ask me a million questions?” He huddled into his coat, his bright red cheeks looking chafed. “I’m freezing.”
I hadn’t even realized I still stood in the doorway with the door wide open, blocking his entry. I backed out of it and looked over my shoulder. Carrie’s parents were gone, but Carrie still stood there. She looked unsure of her welcome. I met her eyes. “Did you know about this?”
“I didn’t know, but I suspected.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t have confirmation. We were going to talk to him today, remember?”
I nodded once. “Yeah. I remember. You didn’t remind me, though, like you promised you would.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Can we talk in my room, son?” Dad came inside and closed the door, looking at me with disappointment clear in his blue eyes. “I’m exhausted.”
“Of course.” I forgot all about being pissed he didn’t tell me about his illness. He looked even paler than he’d been, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was acting as if he was feeling much better than he actually was. You know, like me. “Let’s go. Did you eat dinner?”