Out of Mind (13 page)

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.” Riley 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?”

“No. Yes. Kind of.” I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to look at Riley right now. Not when he looked so freaking angry. “When his dad died, he went a little crazy. Punching things and throwing crap around. Breaking stuff. My dad tried to pull me back, but I moved too fast. Finn kept hitting things, and stuff was going all over the place, and something went flying…and bounced off my cheek. He didn’t mean to do it, and he doesn’t even know it happened. That’s how far gone he was. My dad was there. He saw the whole thing.” A white lie. My father had seen it, sure, but he didn’t know I’d been hurt. I spun around and gripped the mantel behind me. “You can’t say anything to Finn, though. If he knew he hurt me…I don’t know what he’d do.”

“But he
did
hurt you.”

“Not on purpose.” I crossed the room and grabbed Riley’s hands. “Please don’t tell him. Finn can’t ever find out about it. It would kill him.”

Riley shook his head. “But—”

“I can’t ever find out about
what
?” Finn asked from the doorway, his voice low and broken. “What did I miss in the five minutes I was upstairs?”

Riley tensed and dropped my hands, and I stumbled back. I realized, at the last second, what it looked like. It looked as if we’d been caught red-handed in an intimate moment, and we’d been talking about keeping secrets. “It’s nothing, Finn.”

Finn met my eyes, his gaze neither accusing nor untrusting. “Then tell me what it is if it’s no big deal.”

“Look, man.” Riley cleared his throat. “It’s not what you think. I would never—”

“I know. I assure you, I trust Carrie implicitly.” Finn looked at Riley, staring him down. “But you should leave us so we can talk in privacy. Now.”

It was the first time I’d seen him actually act like my arrogant Finn in way too long, and it sent a shaft of pain to my chest to know it was because he’d overheard me. Why hadn’t my father closed the freaking door? “You can go, Riley. We’ll be fine.”

Riley looked at the spot on my cheek where I knew it was discolored, shifting on his feet uneasily. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll go find my parents.”

“Close the door on your way out,” Finn said. He watched Riley pass, doing the manly head nod they all seemed to do, and then turned his attention back on me. As soon as the door closed behind Riley, Finn crossed the room and stopped directly in front of me. “What’s going on, Ginger? What are you hiding from me?”

“I…it’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then you wouldn’t be acting like this.” He reached out and caught my chin, lifting my face up to his. His gaze latched on to mine. “Tell me the truth. We promised, no more lying.”

I crumpled my dress in my hands. “Did you drink last night?”

“What?” He blinked at me. “No. Why?”

“Dad said he saw you drinking.”

He shook his head. “I promised not to touch it anymore, and I didn’t.” He looked at the empty glass on the table. Slowly, he turned back to me. “Were
you
drinking?”

I flinched. “Riley got me a drink…well, two. Two drinks.”

“It’s okay. Just because I can’t handle it right now doesn’t mean you have to be scared to have one.” He lifted a shoulder. “I still don’t like it, but hell, I’m not in charge of you anymore. I got fired.”

“No, you didn’t. Not technically. He just said—”

“He fired me.” Finn flexed his jaw. “Plain and simple. I knew it was going to happen, so it’s not a surprise.”

“You’ll be fine once your arm heals. If nothing else, he probably meant you couldn’t do it for a while,” I said in a rush.

“Carrie.” Finn met my eyes again, his own looking a little bit hard. “He didn’t fire me because of my injury. He fired me because I fell in love with you. I knew it was going to happen, and I did it anyway.”

I flushed. “But—”

“It’s
okay
.” He pressed his fingers to my mouth. “I made plans for this, remember? I can call Captain Richards and see if the offer for college is still open and—”

“Wait. You want to stay
in
, after what happened to you?”

He frowned at me. “Well, maybe. If I’m not discharged. That’s always been the plan. What else am I supposed to do with myself?”

“Go to college. Be normal.
Live
.”

“This is me being normal.” He stepped back, letting go of me. Then his brow crinkled, and he grabbed me again, turning my face toward the light. He paled, and his fingers faltered on my chin. “Where did this mark come from?”

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, my voice quivering. I tried to think fast. “It’s a silly bruise that I can’t even remember—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he said, his voice hard. “Did Riley hit you? Is that what you were talking about earlier? Is that what you couldn’t tell me?”

“N-No.” I closed my eyes and shook my head as best as I could with him holding me like that. By the time I opened my eyes, he looked like he was ready to explode. “Of course not. Please. It’s nothing.”

“Then who did it?” He ran his fingers over the discoloration, his voice tinged with concern. “I know it wasn’t your dad, and the only other person you were with besides him was…was…” His gaze snapped back to mine, comprehension turning the blue stormy and violent. “
Me
. Holy shit.”

I shook my head frantically. “Finn, you didn’t do this. Not really.” I tried to grab his hand, but he jerked away and backed off, his eyes wide. “It wasn’t you. When you went crazy that night, something flew back and scraped against me. It was nothing.”

He growled, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “It’s everything! I fucking
hurt
you.”

“It was an accident!” I cried out, holding my hands in front of me and taking another step toward him. He backed away again. “Don’t you see? This wasn’t you. It was just a freak occurrence—”

“Stop. Making. Excuses.” He ran a hand down his face. The empty hollowness I saw in his eyes killed me. “I hurt you, Carrie. The one person I swore I would never hurt. The one person I swore I would never, ever let down. The one person left on this world I need—and I hurt you? How the fuck is that
okay
?”

“Because you didn’t mean to do it, damn it,” I shouted, stomping my foot. “Why do you insist on always making yourself out to be the bad guy who ruins everything? This was an accident. Simply an accident.”

“Fuck that.” He stalked to the bar and yanked it open. “Me hurting you is never, ever acceptable. You’ve been tiptoeing around me, acting like you’re scared to set me off—and now I see why. You should have been scared, damn it.”

He was right. I’d totally been walking on eggshells around him, and look where it had gotten us. Here. “You know what? You’re right. I’ve been scared about doing anything to set you off or make you upset, but maybe you need that now.” I slapped his uninjured arm, and, man, it felt good. “Stop being an asshole. Stop hurting me. And stop acting like
this
.”

He flinched, but I knew it was from my words, not my blow. “I can’t. I keep hurting you, and it’s not fair.”

“Then don’t do it again,” I snarled, wanting to hit him again, but holding myself back. “Simple solution, really. No need for dramatics and heartbreak. You know where you can start? Close that stupid cabinet, and back away from the alcohol. You
promised
me you wouldn’t drink anymore. Why don’t you follow through on that? It’s a good start.”

He froze with his hand on the knob. “I hurt you, Carrie. What makes you think I’m worthy of keeping promises? What makes you think you can trust me at all?” Then he looked at me and he looked…different. It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “What makes you think I give a damn about what promises I’ve made you if I can hurt you like that? You can’t fucking trust me. Not anymore.”

I curled my hands into fists. He was ruining everything, all because of a stupid mark he hadn’t even meant to put there. God. “Stop this right now, or maybe
I’ll
decide
I’m
done with you. Is that what you fucking want?”

He hesitated. Actually hesitated. “And if I do?”