Out of Mind Page 9

  Senator Wallington pulled the man aside and spoke to him in a low tone. He’d come along with us, and kept adding things—then insisting to pay since he’d “adjusted” the order. I knew what he was doing. He was taking care of the bills for me, but trying to do so in a way that I wouldn’t take offense.

  I gritted my teeth and looked down at Carrie, forcing a smile. If it was the last thing I did, I wouldn’t let her know how fucked up I was right now. Oh, who was I kidding? She knew. She’d seen me last night. I still couldn’t believe I’d let myself break like that, and in the process broken so many things in that damn bedroom. I could have hurt someone—hell, I could have hurt Carrie.

  I would fucking walk away before I ever, ever let myself hurt her.

  End of story.

  I looked into her eyes, trying to latch on to the serenity that I usually felt. She looked different today. She’d put on makeup, even blush. Was she trying to look less exhausted for my behalf? If so, she was failing. I knew how tired she was because she’d been taking care of me. Well, no more.

  Tonight, I’d make sure she went to bed at a decent time.

  “All right. We’re all settled.” Senator Wallington came over. “I added a few things to the order, so I paid for the coffin myself. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Enough. “Sir, I can’t let you keep doing that. I have money, and I can—”

  He held a hand up. “You caught me. I promised him I’d take care of the bills when his time came. I won’t break that promise, no matter how much you hate it. Besides, last time I checked, you were too injured to work. You’ll need to save money, since you don’t know how long you’ll be unemployed.”

  I flushed. I hadn’t even considered the fact that I couldn’t do my job anymore. Or was that not what he meant? Was he suggesting I was fired from being Carrie’s bodyguard not because of my injury, but because of our relationship? No one would guard her better than me, damn it.

  My own life depended on her survival.

  “Dad, he can still guard me.” Carrie frowned at him. “An injury won’t stop him from babysitting me for you.”

  “Oh, and how would he stop a kidnapper with a broken arm and a mangled hand?” Her dad cocked his head. “Will he kick them? Shout for help?”

  Carrie glared at him. “He’ll heal.”

  “Yeah, but until then, he can’t work as a guard.” He looked over his shoulder while straightening his tie. “Besides, contracts were broken and lies were told. I’m still not sure what I’m doing about that yet, but now isn’t the time or place to discuss this. All I was saying was that I was paying, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. That’s it.”

  I inclined my head, not dropping his stare. “Yes, sir.”

  I practically spit out that last word. Fuck, I needed a drink. I understood what he wasn’t saying: I wasn’t getting my job back. I’d lied to him. Fallen for his daughter. Lied some more. And then gone crazy. It wasn’t exactly a shocker that I’d lost my job.

  “We’ll talk later,” the senator repeated.

  “No need. I understand completely.”

  Carrie might not realize it, but I’d known all along how this would end when he found out about us. I’d be fired and looking for a new job. It’s why I’d left on that assignment in the first place. Why I’d tried to better myself, only to end up broken and damaged.

  Carrie shook her head. “This isn’t over, Dad.”

  “This has absolutely nothing to do with you, and like I said—” He motioned security over. Cortez and Morris walked over our way, their expressions solemn. “It’s not the time or the place.”

  After Cortez nodded at me, he turned to Senator Wallington. “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “You’re going to leave with me,” he paused, “and Morris?”

  Morris stepped forward. “Yes, sir?”

  “You stay with them.”

  Carrie stiffened. “We don’t need a guard.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, catching the senator’s eyes. He didn’t trust me around his daughter anymore. That much was clear. And honestly? I didn’t blame him. “I can’t protect you, Carrie. He’s right.”

  He was so fucking right.

  “I don’t want anyone watching me besides Finn,” Carrie protested. She shot Morris a smile. “No offense, but I’ve already got my—”

  “No.” Senator Wallington balled his fists, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “I’ve put up with a lot from you, Carrie, but this is not up for debate. Morris stays.”

  I squeezed Carrie’s hand. She was about to start a fight, right here in the fucking casket store, for the love of God. “It’s fine, Carrie. He’s right.”

  She whirled on me, eyes narrowed. “No, he’s not. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

  “I’m not quite myself.” I smiled, even though I wanted to fucking scream. “You can’t deny that.”

  She hesitated. “But still…”

  “It’s just for now. Things will go back to normal after I heal. Isn’t that right, sir?”

  Senator Wallington met my eyes. “Right.”

  “See?” I let go of her hand. “Where are you going, sir?”

  “I’m going to stop at my office on the way home. I’ll be home in time for dinner.” He hesitated. “Riley might be stopping by. He heard about your father, and wants to give his condolences.”

  “Excellent.”

  “That might not be the best idea,” Carrie said, looking at me. “You might need some down time.”

  “Then he can keep you company.” I smiled again. It fucking hurt to smile when everything was breaking inside me. I wasn’t worried about her and Riley. I trusted her, and that meant I had to trust him, too. “My head is killing me, so I do need to rest. It’ll be good to know you have a friend nearby while I’m sleeping.”

  She bit her lower lip. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

  I didn’t. What I wanted was a fucking drink, but I couldn’t have that, could I?

  So I nodded. “It’s what I want.”

  The next day was Dad’s funeral. It was cold, dark, depressing, and fucking hard to get through. There were tons of people there. People I’d known over the years. People Dad knew. And then friends of the senator. We’d actually had to turn some people away, as we couldn’t all fit inside.

  It should make me feel happy to know so many people cared about him, but instead I felt empty. I sat in a room surrounded by people who cared about my dad, but there were only two people in this room who actually gave a damn about me—and one of them was in the coffin at the front of the room.

  People came to say goodbye to my dad, but every once in a while, I heard someone laugh as they caught up on the “good old times.” I wasn’t fucking laughing. I hadn’t laughed since the night before my dad died.

  Hell, I didn’t know if I’d ever laugh again.

  After I delivered my eulogy, which I’d managed to get through without breaking down, I stared at the open casket as Father Thomas droned on and on about redemption, heaven, and hell. I couldn’t take my eyes off Dad, knowing it was the last time I’d ever get to see his face again. I think part of me was hoping this was all a dream or some shit like that. Like he’d pop up and be all, “Ha! I tricked you, didn’t I?”

  But he didn’t move. He was really gone.

  I clung to Carrie’s hand, my dry eyes stinging. She sniffed beside me, tears running down her cheeks, and I almost envied her. I couldn’t let myself go again. Couldn’t release the grief. Look what had happened last time. So I sat there, staring straight ahead, and pretended I was anywhere but here. Surfing. Riding my bike. Laughing with Carrie on my lap.

  Some undetermined amount of time later, Carrie shook my knee. “Finn? You ready?”

  I blinked, looking around in surprise. The room was empty. Only Carrie and I remained. We sat in the middle of the front row, and everyone else waited outside. I could see them through the window. Waiting for the next step—the gravesite. �
�N-No. I’ll never be ready.”

  “Take your time.” She didn’t let go of me. If anything, she held on tighter. “They can wait for you.”

  “Fuck.” I swallowed hard. “I have to say goodbye now, don’t I?”

  She nodded slowly. All traces of her tears were gone, and she looked at me with clear eyes. “Yes. You have to say goodbye.”

  I looked over at the casket. After he was in the ground…what then? I just went about my life acting as if I was normal when I wasn’t? “This sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does.” She kissed my temple. “Do you want to say goodbye alone?”

  I thought about it before nodding. “Wait for me outside?”

  “Always.” She let go of me and started for the door. She wore a black dress and a black pair of heels. Her long red hair fell down her back freely, and she looked gorgeous. “And Finn?”

  I stood up and straightened my black suit jacket. “Yeah?”

  “You’re not alone. You have me.”

  My heart clenched tight. She was right, and I knew it, but I still felt alone. I was the only family member left. My grandparents were long gone. And now my parents, too. But I didn’t say any of that. “I love you.”

  She smiled sadly, her red lips parting to show her perfect white teeth. She had a lot of makeup on again today. “I love you, too.”

  After she left, I turned to my father. The undertaker nodded at me and retreated to the back of the room to give me privacy. He joined the group of pallbearers, talking quietly. They all gave me their backs. I was alone. It was time to accept it.

  I walked up to the casket slowly, each step taking longer than the next. By the time I reached the side and knelt beside it, my feet felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds each and my palms were sweating. I reached out and held his hand with my only semi-functioning hand. It didn’t feel like his skin, and yet it did. “I’m going to miss you, Dad.”

  He didn’t reply, obviously, but I swore his fingers tightened on mine.

  “I’m going to go to school. I’ll make you proud. I know I made a big mess of things. I know I screwed everything up.” I looked up at the window. Carrie stood there, next to her parents. Riley was with her. I tore my eyes away. “But I did some things right lately. I know what I have to do, and I’m going to do it.”

  I looked at my dad again. He was pale and lifeless, but he was still here. And soon…he wouldn’t be. “I wish you hadn’t left me. Everyone is dying. Everyone but me. I just don’t get it. It’s not fair.”

  I swallowed past my throbbing throat. Visions of Dad teaching me how to drive hit me. “Remember when you used to blare the radio and crank the windows down when you were teaching me how to drive? That way when I mastered driving with the music blaring, nothing would faze me after that.” I let out a small laugh. “And you used to sing Tom Petty at the top of your lungs, your face glowing every time I mastered a new skill, and I told you I was going to pretend like I didn’t know you if you didn’t quiet down.” I cleared my throat. “I never would have done that to you. I loved you then for being so silly and free, and I love you even more now. Just thought you should know that.”

  I dropped my head onto the side of the casket, swallowing hard. “And I keep remembering how you looked the day I went away to boot camp. You looked so proud of me that day—the proudest I’ve ever seen you look. Your eyes were all bright and shiny with tears, and you smiled throughout the whole damn ceremony.” I lifted my head, my eyes stinging. “You haven’t looked at me once like that since we got back to D.C. I’m sorry I let you down. So sorry—”

  I broke off. Knowing he’d died while being disappointed in me killed me. He might not have told me as much, but I’d seen it in his eyes that last night we had together. Heard it in his voice. He’d wanted me to do better, and I hadn’t had the chance to do so. His last memory of me would be me as a pill-popping drunk.

  I curled my hurt hand into a fist, grimacing through the pain. I deserved it. “I love you, Dad. And I’ll never stop loving you. Never stop missing you. I’m sorry I fucked it all up, but I’ll fix it. I promise.”

  Was it just me, or had someone touched me on the back? I looked, but I was still alone. I gave my dad one last look, stood up, cleared my throat, and nodded at the men in the back of the room. “I’m done. He’s all yours.”

  I walked out the door, my eyes scanning the crowd until I found her. As I walked toward Carrie, I heard whispers of “the heir” dating “the help,” and I knew they were talking about Carrie and me. Someone snickered and replied about how it was fun “to date below rank sometimes,” but that it “wouldn’t last past the grieving.”

  Fuck them. Fuck them all.

  Riley bent down to Carrie, talking to her quietly, and she shook her head. I approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt the two people in this room who everyone would agree was a perfect match. She must have sensed me coming, because she broke off midsentence and rushed to my side.

  “You okay?”

  No. “Yeah.”

  She claimed my hand again. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t care.

  I needed her too badly to let go yet.

  I walked into the empty family room, a glass of water in my hand, and sat down on the edge of the couch. The whole day had been nonstop mingling, comforting, crying, and then more crying. Finn had gone upstairs to lie down for a few minutes, and I’d escaped the crush of people still hanging around our house.

  I wish I could have lain down, too, but my mom would’ve had a heart attack if I escaped mid-party. Bad manners and all that jazz. I finished off my water, set it down, and laid back against the couch. Silence. Silence was good. The door opened behind me and I leapt to my feet, forcing a smile to my face. When I saw it was Riley and my dad, I let the smile slide away and sank down on the cushions. “Oh, it’s you guys.”

  “You sound disappointed.” Riley sat beside me, amusement in his eyes. “Were you hoping for someone else? Maybe someone with tattoos?”

  I shook my head. “He’s resting. He just went upstairs.”

  “That’s good,” Riley said.

  Dad opened the liquor cabinet. “Riley, would you like a—?” He squinted. “Oh, wait. My scotch is missing. Maybe Griffin took it up with him.”

  “No. He’s not drinking anymore.” I looked down at my lap. “He stopped after Larry died.”

  “Uh…” Dad closed the cabinet, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in his hands. “I thought I saw him drinking last night. Are you sure?”

  I swallowed hard. He’d sworn he wasn’t drinking anymore, so that didn’t sound right. “I’m positive he isn’t drinking. He’s not even taking pills anymore. I flushed them all.”

  Dad and Riley exchanged a long glance. “Okay,” Dad said.

  “I, for one, haven’t seen him drinking today,” Riley said, offering me a smile. “Maybe you were mistaken after all, Mr. Wallington.”

  “Yes. Maybe.” He poured two glasses of whiskey, putting the bottle back into the cabinet. After handing the glass to Riley, he headed for the door. “I’ll leave you two alone. If I don’t go back to help with the guests, your mother will kill me.”

  I looked at Riley and rolled my eyes. It was clear he’d brought Riley in here just for this purpose—to leave us alone together. Once the door closed behind him, Riley shoved his glass at me. “Drink it. You need it more than I do.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I said, downing the nasty beverage in one gulp. I didn’t know why anyone would drink this crap willingly. I swiped my forearm across my lips and handed the empty glass back to Riley. “Is this ever going to end?”

  “Is what ever going to end?”

  I stared out the window. Snow was falling again, and the sun was setting, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange. It looked so peaceful. Too bad it was anything but peaceful in here tonight. “The pain. The nonstop crap being piled on Finn. First he gets injured, and then his father dies. How much can one man take?”

  “Finn’s strong.” Ri
ley got up and made his way over to the cabinet. He refilled his cup, drank it, and poured some more. “He’ll recover, and he has you to help him.”

  “Yeah, but what if I’m not enough?”

  Riley gripped the side of the cabinet with both hands, his knuckles going white. Pushing off it, he came back to my side, sat down, and offered me his cup again. “How could you not be?”

  I took the drink, swallowing it quickly. I didn’t even flinch that time. “Easily. I’m not his father, and I can’t give him back his father.”

  “You don’t need to be his dad. You just need to be you.” He shrugged before crossing one ankle over his knee. “That’s all he needs.”

  “Yeah…”

  I stared off into the distance, watching the snow falling. It would be Christmas in a couple of days—two, I think? I’d lost track of the days. But it didn’t matter, I was only thinking of the days because there wasn’t really much more to say. I knew I wasn’t enough. If I were enough, he’d be sitting next to me, instead of Riley. If I were enough, he wouldn’t be sitting in his bedroom alone, instead of being with me. Ever since my father basically fired him yesterday, he’d been quiet. We’d slept together again, with the door open, but he’d barely said anything besides “good night” to me. It scared me.

  Riley reached out and touched my cheekbone. “What happened there?”

  “It’s nothing.” I flinched away and covered the bruise with my hand. All my crying must have removed the heavy makeup I’d put on to hide it. I couldn’t let Finn or my dad see it, so I’d have to reapply. “Nothing at all.”

  Riley’s brows slammed down. “Did someone hit you?”

  “N-No, of course not.” I stood up shakily, walked to the mirror, and studied the mark. I’d need to sneak up to my room for some concealer. “It was an accident. I’ll go get my—”

  “Carrie,” Riley said. He caught my gaze in the mirror. He looked ready to kill someone. “Was it Finn?”