Out of Mind

by Jen McLaughlin

  “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?”

  “You don’t,” I said quickly, not giving up on him. I couldn’t. “I know you, Finn. This isn’t you.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “Stop being like this.”

  He yanked the cabinet open. “Ah, but you’re wrong. This is me now, Carrie, and it isn’t changing. The problem is, neither are you. Which is why…” He hesitated, his knuckles white on the handle. “Th-This isn’t working anymore.”

  I gasped, unable to believe what he was saying. What he was doing.

  And then, oh God, then I realized what I was thinking of when he’d reminded me of something earlier. The way he was looking at me right now, all cold calculation and separated, it reminded me of when we’d first met…

  Before he loved me.

  Finn

  She gasped behind me, and the pain she felt right now sliced through me. I’d swear it did. You have to stop hurting her if you love her. That’s what Dad had said before he died. It was time I did what he’d asked. I’d been selfishly keeping Carrie at my side, treating her like shit the whole time.

  It was time to admit that I wasn’t getting better anytime soon. I was hurting her constantly, and I couldn’t do it anymore. I’d been ignoring it up until now, but seeing that bruise on her face? Well, I couldn’t fucking ignore that. I always swore I’d leave her before I’d hurt her. It was time to follow through on that promise.

  “Finn, don’t do this to me. You didn’t even know it happened,” she whispered, her voice broken and shaken.

  I closed my eyes, pain ripping through me. “Is that supposed to make it better? That I was so fucked up I didn’t even realize the person I love more than life itself was hurting?”

  “It’s not like that,” she said, her voice growing stronger with each word. “You were upset. Anyone would have—”

  I slammed my hand down on the bar. From the corner of my eye, I saw her jump. Good. Maybe if I scared her more, she’d finally give up on me. I’d already given up on myself. “Anyone would not have done what I did. I’m not fucking normal, Carrie. I’m a mess, and all I can think about at any given time of day is drinking, pain pills, or dying. That’s all I care about anymore.”

  “You care about me. Don’t pretend like you don’t. You can say it all you want, but I’ll see it for what it is. Another fucking lie.” She glared at me. “I can’t help you if you refuse to help yourself.”

  Good. She was mad. When she cursed, I knew she was pissed.

  “You’re right. You can’t, so stop trying to.” I set down a glass and filled it with whiskey. I didn’t even want the drink, but I had to make a point. Had to show her that right now, I wasn’t capable of being saved. She needed to physically see it to believe it. Lifting it up, I toasted her. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”

  She watched me as I downed the whole fucking drink in one swig, her cheeks flushing. Then her gaze snapped back to mine, flashing fire. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to let me go. I get a say, damn it. And fuck you for thinking I don’t. I’m not walking away because you think you’re too scary for me. You’re not. You’re just being an asshole.”

  “I know I am, damn it.” I laughed harshly, letting all my frustration and anger out on her. Because even though I knew this was the right thing to do, it was killing me. This conversation hurt more than the IED or the broken arm, or even my father dying. It. Fucking. Hurt. “Jesus, Carrie, do you see me right now? Do you even fucking see me?”

  “Yes! I’ve never stopped seeing you. Never stopped loving you. I’ve been here, with you, this whole time!” She stalked across the room and shoved my shoulder. “And what do I get for it? This! You giving up on yourself. On us.”

  I twisted my lips into a poor imitation of a smile. “Yeah, well, that’s me. I’m an asshole. It’s how I was before you, and now I’m back to my old ways. Get used to it.”

  She came closer, her eyes shining with tears and anger. So much anger. She looked like she was going to hit me again, and I wanted her to, because I deserved it so damn much. But she stopped short. “You’re upset and not thinking clearly. You need to put away the drink and go to bed. In the morning—”

  “I’ll feel exactly the same.” I met her eyes, squaring my shoulders. It was time to really hurt her, and I didn’t want to. But if I could hurt her this one last time, she would be better off. Free of the emotional wreck I was. It was time to help her be happy again, because I never would be. “I can’t love you like this, and you can’t love me like this.” I paused, gathering up the nerve to say, “I don’t love you anymore, Carrie.”

  She gasped and covered her mouth. I immediately wanted to take the words back. “Wh-What? Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Don’t you dare say it again.”

  Of course I didn’t mean it, but I’d say it anyway. I had to, for her. “I. Don’t. Love. You. Anymore. We’re done.”

  Tears poured out of her eyes, and she shoved me backward. I stumbled this time, welcoming the pain it sent shooting up my arm. “You’re only saying that because you refuse to help yourself. You’re giving up. Lying to me again. We swore—”

  “I swore a lot of things.” I forced a cocky grin. It hurt. “I lied to you, plain and simple. It’s what I do. But I’m not lying now. This isn’t about giving up. It’s about letting go. We’re over. The love is gone.”

  “Finn…” she whispered, broken and hurt. “I don’t believe you.”

  I poured another drink, hating myself for every single drop that went into it. Hating myself because I’d let it get to this. Let it go this far, when I should have never let her fall in love with me in the first place. We were fucking doomed from the start, and I’d known it. I’d just chosen to ignore it. Now, I was even more fucked up than before.

  She deserved better, damn it.

  “Yeah, well, believe it.” I saluted her with the glass. “It’s over, Ginger. I’ve been faking feelings for you this whole week. I’m too tired to fake it anymore just so you don’t get hurt. I’m done protecting you.”

  She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I can’t save you if you’re giving up.”

  “I don’t want you to fucking save me!” I shouted. “I want you to leave me the hell alone!”

  She backed up, her lower lip trembling. “Fuck you, asshole.”

  “And she finally sees the truth,” I drawled, my heart ripping in two. “It’s about damn time you accepted it.”

  Tears poured down those smooth cheeks of hers, and her blue eyes were coated in moisture, making them brighter than usual. It went against every single instinct inside of me not to walk up to her and hug her. To not take it all back. She might not know it now, but I was doing her a favor. I had to remember that, even if it was too late to save her from the pain. I couldn’t regret loving her. Knowing her. So, no matter how selfish it might be, I didn’t regret the time we had together. I’d never love someone the way I loved her.

  She’d always be the one for me. I just couldn’t be hers.

  “Even so, I’m not giving up on you—but you need to fight, too. You’re going to realize this is wrong. You’re going to regret this, and I’ll forgive you. But you can’t say things like that to me and expect me to forgive that.” She reached for my hand. If she touched me, I’d be a goner. I’d lose my resolve to save her. “I love you, and I’ll always love you, but this isn’t okay.”

  “Don’t say that,” I rasped, backing away from her. I ran my hand over my shaved head, wishing I could tug on my hair. Wishing I wasn’t me. “You need to forget this ever happened. Move on. This was all a huge mistake between us. Stop trying to be a rebel, and stop trying to piss off Daddy Dearest all the time. Marry a guy like Riley.”

  I choked on the words. This wasn’t right. She was supposed to marry me.

  Fuck, I needed to get away from her.

  “I’m not marrying anyone but you,” she said, her voice completel
y calm. “When you wake up in the morning, come find me. Say you’re sorry, and maybe we can forget this happened. That’s how much I love you.”

  Without warning, she lunged across the distance between us, closing it with one giant step. Her arms snaked around my neck and she kissed me. She tasted like tears, whiskey, and Carrie. God, she felt so fucking good. So fucking right. How was I supposed to give this up? Give her up? I’d never get to taste her again, and that hurt, too.

  I broke off the kiss, a ragged moan escaping me. Tears burned my vision, but I turned away from her before she could see. “It’s over. Just give up already. I don’t want to be with you anymore. It’s…it’s your fault this happened to me. I blame you.”

  She gasped and backed off, covering her mouth. I hated myself right then, for striking where I knew she’d be weakest. I knew, deep down, she blamed herself for this. And I’d used that to hurt her. To make her back the hell off.

  I deserved to die right now.

  The door opened. Senator Wallington walked in, took one look at me, skimmed over to Carrie, and rushed inside. “What’s going on here?”

  I poured myself another drink. “Your dreams have come true. I’ve finally accepted I’ll never be good enough for your baby girl, and I broke up with her.”

  Carrie shook her head but didn’t say anything.

  She just stared at me, looking broken.

  I faced her father, letting all my rage at this situation come to the surface. Letting them see how much of a fuck-up I was, finally. “Since she’s having difficulty accepting this, why don’t you tell her how wrong I am for her? Did you ever tell her about that time I almost got fired for bringing a girl back here with me? We got caught naked in the—”

  Carrie cried out and spun on her heel, giving me her back and hiding her gorgeous face from me. I wanted to demand she turn around so I could see her. After all, I wouldn’t be seeing her again. I needed to see her—to memorize everything about her.

  “Griffin, you’re drinking. You’re not thinking this through.” The senator cleared his throat. “Maybe you should put that aside and go to bed—”