I stepped closer. “It’s okay.”
He rested his head back against the couch, swallowing hard and stretching his leg out in front of him. “And I’m all right. I just need a second.”
I watched him, torn in indecision. Lies or no lies, this was the man I loved. I’d loved him for more than nine years, ever since I’d been that nineteen-year-old girl all alone on the beach at night, and I’d love him forever, no matter what happened. I wanted to help him. Slowly, I crossed the room and sat beside him.
He glanced at me from under his lashes and stiffened when I closed my hands around his upper thigh. “I’m going to rub it. Let me know if it hurts,” I said.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said from between clenched teeth.
“I want to do it. I want to help you,” I said, staring him right in the eye. “Please. Let me do this for you.”
He nodded once, his jawline hard and unyielding.
I started rubbing, unable to ignore the hard muscles beneath my fingers, no matter how hard I tried. He’d always been so faithful to me. So loyal. He had so many good qualities, and it was hard to ignore them.
Even in the face of his issues, it was impossible to pretend those outstanding qualities didn’t exist. There was no white and black with us. It was all gray.
So much freaking gray.
When I rubbed his thigh harder, he groaned and closed his eyes. I almost didn’t hear him say: “You have questions about why I did what I did.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Well…yeah. Of course I do.”
“So ask me,” he said, still not opening his eyes.
“I don’t want to.” I lowered my head and rubbed harder. “You’ve accused me of bringing my job home, and I don’t want to push. I don’t want you to think I’m doing that. Ever.”
“I shouldn’t have said that, because it’s not true. You never do that, so I’m sorry for saying that, too.” He caught my chin, tipping my face up so I met his eyes. His were somber and clear. “Ask me anything you want. I want to answer.”
“But it’ll lead to a fight,” I whispered.
I was so sick of the fighting. Of the pain. Of it all.
“Then we’ll fight.” He kissed me gently. “And then we’ll make up. We always do. But if we’re going to move on, we need to get it all out so it doesn’t fester and boil over into a huge fucking mess. That’s the healthy thing to do.”
I gave him a small smile and brushed his hair off of his face. It was so soft. I’d said that to so many patients so many times that I recognized it for what it was. A lesson he’d gotten from his therapist. I wanted to kiss that woman right now. “You’re so smart.”
“I know.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “Now let’s talk it out.”
After taking a deep breath, I asked, “How long were you taking the pills? Were there more than the three bottles?”
“No, it was only the three. I was using them for less than a week. I know I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have taken the chance.” He turned to me again, his blue gaze piercing into mine. “But I just wanted to shut the voices up for a little while. I keep seeing them, all those men, dying over and over again. All day and night. It never stops.” He looked away. “I thought if I could manage the pain, I could get a grip on everything else. I thought I’d be able to control the memories and the pain and the nightmares.”
I nodded, my heart breaking for him. “I didn’t know you had slipped back into that place.”
“You didn’t ask me,” he said, his voice matter of fact. “Did it ever occur to you that I might have a relapse? Or did you just assume I was all better, and I’d never slip up again?”
“Of course I did. I always worry about you. About everyone I love.” I glanced away. “But I was trying to give you privacy. Trying to trust you.”
“I know.” He covered his face. “But I’m curious, and I have to ask this. Did you notice I’d been acting differently at all?”
I crossed my arms defensively. He’d been acting strangely, yes, but I’d been too caught up in my own issues to notice. Trying to pay the bills. My ever-growing sickness. The stress of worrying about a husband who’d been injured way too many times. “Not really, no. But if you hadn’t hid things from me, lied to me, I would have known.”
“I know that. You think I don’t fucking know that? But I’m your husband, and you told me to get out.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”
I forced myself to keep my voice calm, even though I was upset, too. This was about him, not me. “What was I supposed to do after I got that call from the pharmacy? After you lied to me, straight to my face?”
“You were supposed to ask me why I’d done it. Talk to me. Help me.” He shook me off and stood up, a hand behind his neck and the other balled at his side. “We’re fucking married. We have a kid together, and you just shook me off like an unwanted bill or some shit like that. Who does that to the person they swore to love forever?”
My heart twisted painfully. Hearing him say it like that, it sounded awful. But after all he’d put me through in the past with his drug issues, I’d felt as if I hadn’t had a choice. “I tried to talk to you that night. Tried to get you to talk to me. To admit the truth. Or did you forget that?”
“Of course not,” he said, blanching. “But I was still h—”
He broke off. He obviously didn’t want to say it out loud.
“Say it.” I grabbed his hands. “You have to say it.”
“No.” He shook his head frantically and stood up. “No.”
“Fine. I’ll say it for you. You were still high.” I lifted my chin. “What did you expect from me when confronted with that?”
“Love. I expected love! It’s your fucking job to help people get through this shit. To be understanding and kind in the face of their plight. You’re a fucking therapist. You get paid to help people like me heal.” He yanked on his hair. “But your own husband has a small slip into hell over the space of eight fucking years, and you’re done? You have no idea how much that hurt me, knowing you could get rid of me like that without blinking. How mad that made me.”
I swallowed hard. All this time I’d been so angry with him, and I’d had no idea he had all this anger against me. I’d just assumed he was hurt, not mad.
How naïve of me.
“I’m sorry for that,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my aching heart. “I didn’t mean to make you think it was easy for me, because it wasn’t. Not at all. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, because I need you in my life.”
He completely ignored the last part, and said, “It didn’t look like it was that hard for you from my angle,” he said, his voice hard. “It looked like you’d been waiting for an excuse to kick me out, and you finally got it. And here I thought we’d been happy.”
I threw my hands up. “We were. Which is why I can’t figure out why you felt the need to take those pills behind my back. Or why you didn’t tell me you were having flashbacks again. Why weren’t you honest with me about it?”
He made a frustrated sound. “Because I was scared you’d flip out on me. That you’d think I was going to fall back into my old habits of drinking booze and popping pills. I was scared to revive bad memories of my dad dying, and the injuries, and the PTSD, and everything else that happened at that time in my fucking life. But most of all, I was ashamed to admit that I’d fallen down again.”
I swallowed hard. That time in our life had been horrid. We’d had so many arguments, and he’d been suffering from PTSD on top of everything else. It was the darkest part of his life, and he was right. Finding him with those pills in his hand had brought me right back to that time. Right back to the past.
“Finn…”
He dropped his arms at his sides. “I was so fucking scared of losing you. I thought I’d be able to keep track of when I needed the pills. Thought I’d be okay if I could get a grip on that part of my life, if nothing else. Thought it would help me heal
.”
“I could’ve helped you do it.” I tipped my head back. “If you’d come to me, none of this would have happened.”
“I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, Ginger.” His jaw ticked. “You should know what that’s like. Why didn’t you take more time to talk to me that night? Why did you kick me out? I never thought you’d do that to me. To us.” He sat down again, looking defeated and alone. “Why didn’t you stand by me?”
I wrapped my arms around my stomach. There were reasons I’d acted the way I’d acted that night, but he didn’t need to know them yet. We were in enough of a mess already. One more stressor might put him over the edge. “I thought it was what you needed to hear. All actions have reactions, and—”
“Don’t pull those cliché therapist sayings on me. I’ve heard them all already.”
I nodded once, knowing he was right. I hadn’t even realized I’d been saying it, because I’d been too busy panicking inside. He couldn’t know my news yet. It might push him further into the black hole he was trying to fight his way out of. He’d been happy about Susan, but I couldn’t assume he’d be happy about this one.
Not when he was barely able to hold on to what he already had, and I could see the worry in his eyes even now. He might not be ready to admit it, but he was worried about himself. About us. Most of all, about Susan. His denying the need for help scared me more than he ever did.
Not admitting you needed help when you did was terrifying.
I trusted Finn with all my heart. I did. But when he was in the grips of PTSD, Finn wasn’t Finn. He was almost a stranger with a gun…and that scared me.
“And you know what else? There’s nothing you could do that would send me running like that,” he said, continuing. He had no idea how many thoughts were flying through my head right now. He sat beside me, our bodies touching, and locked gazes with me again, his blue eyes earnest. “I could walk in on you holding a bloody knife over a dead body, and I’d ask you where you wanted to hide the fucking body.”
“I know. That’s how you are.”
“So why did you send me away?” he asked again.
“I don’t know!” I’d been scared to lose him again, scared he’d break me again, but more importantly, I’d been scared he might do the same to our children. And I couldn’t allow that to happen. “All I know is I couldn’t go through all that pain again. We’re not kids anymore, Finn. We have a family to worry about, and I can’t put our family through all that pain all over again. While losing you is one of the worst things I can possibly imagine, I have to do what’s best for everyone. Not just you.”
He shook his head and cupped my cheek, stroking my skin gently. His tenderness hit me hard, and I realized how much I’d needed it. Needed this. He kissed me once. Twice. Three times. “But I can’t lose you, Ginger. I’ve lived life without you, and I’ve lived it with you. I know which one is better. And I always have. I need you.”
“I need you, too.” I clasped his forearms. “So much. But I’m scared of what could happen.”
“I am too,” he whispered, his fingers flexing on me. “But if you just keep pulling me closer, and reminding me what I could lose, I’ll get better. I swear it. And I know it’s true, because I can’t lose you again. I just can’t.”
Instead of immediately shutting him out, as I knew I should, I looked deep into his eyes. I could see his sincerity, and I knew that he knew he needed help. I knew he would eventually admit it, but I didn’t know when. I did know one thing for sure, though. In a sea of uncertainty and fears, I loved him with all my heart. And he loved me, too.
Instead of telling him why I couldn’t let him in, I just wanted to love him. Show him I hadn’t given up on him. On us. I blinked back tears. “Then don’t. Don’t lose me.”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and then I did it.
I pulled him in closer.
Finn
I hadn’t meant it in a literal sense—my words about her pulling me in closer. But when she did, I didn’t question it or hesitate. No, sir. Instead, I closed my mouth over hers, taking control from her. This is how it always was with us. One second, we would be fighting, and the next we would be all over each other.
Maybe we’d actually be okay. Maybe love would be enough.
She had the power to heal me. She just had to believe.
My tongue slid over hers, and she whimpered into my mouth, her grip on me tightening. I pressed closer, growling and deepening the kiss as I did so. Her hand drifted over my bare back, sending shafts of need and pleasure coursing through my veins. It had been so long, too long, and I needed to have her. To claim her as mine.
To own her.
I ended the kiss, our heavy breathing the only sounds in the room. I ended the kiss, nibbling on her lower lip. “Fuck, you taste good.”
“Are you okay?” She cupped my face. “Or should we stop?”
Taking a second, I thought about it. Actually thought about it. When she kissed me, the voices went away. So did the fear. I felt human again. So fucking human. She was my own personal medication. “I’m good. You’re still on the pill, right? The last thing we need right now is a baby getting in the mix.”
She hesitated but nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“Ginger…” I’d noticed the hesitation. The second of doubt that had crossed her mind. “You have to tell me you want this. Tell me you want me. There can be no doubt.”
“Yes.” She nodded frantically, trailing her fingers down my chest and over my abs. “I want this. I want you. I miss you so much, Finn.”
Fucking A.
I swept her into my arms and carried her to the bed. I’d been fantasizing about her sleeping in the damn thing all night long, and now I was going to thoroughly fuck her in it. I laid her down gently, my gaze skimming up her slim body. She’d had a baby only a year ago, and she looked fucking perfect. I loved the stretch marks on her stomach, the ones she’d gotten from carrying our child. There were just two little ones, right above her belly button, but I fucking loved them.
They were her own personal battle scars.
Her body had changed, too, but for the better. Her hips were rounder. Her breasts fuller. Everything about her was perfection, and I’d never get enough. I don’t think she’d ever realize exactly what she did to my body, mind, and soul—not to mention my heart.
She’d saved me.
And now she had the power to destroy me.
Lowering my body on top of hers, I kissed her hard, not wasting time with soft kisses and caresses. I needed her too damn badly, and she needed me. She arched her back beneath me, her muscles tight and hard. Slipping my hand under her ass, I lifted her closer to my hard cock, needing to feel her against me.
“Fuck, I missed you.” I kissed the side of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her long red hair, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to her shoulder. Then I bit her, making her cry out in pleasure. Her nails dug into my back. “So.” Another nibble on her shoulder. “Damn.” Lower, on the top of her breast. “Much.”
“Finn.” She gripped my shoulders, arching her back. “Now.”
“Uh-uh.” I kissed her neck again, tugging her sweater down a little bit. “That’s not how you ask me for something.”
“Please.” She dug her nails in deeper. “Please take me.”
I lowered myself over her body, lifting her sweater up inch by inch as I did so. “I don’t know. It’s been too long…”
“Which is why I need you now.” She yanked on my hair. “Right now, please.”
I tsked. “Not yet.”
I undid her pants button and unzipped them. She squirmed beneath me, her eyes shut tight. “Finn…”
Yanking them down to her knees, I slipped my fingers between her thighs and brushed up against her wet pussy. “You’re so ready. So hungry.” I slid my fingers inside her black satin panties, running my finger over her clit gently. “So mine.”
She opened her thighs. “I always will be. Just take
me.”
I withdrew my hand, grinning when she let loose a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Slowly, I removed her pants the rest of the way and tossed them over my shoulder. Picking up her ankle, I nipped the tender skin there. She squirmed, a silly little grin on her face that did odd things to my heart.
“Even your ankle tastes good. Every inch of your body does.” I nipped her thigh a little harder than necessary, and she let out a strangled groan, wiggling her sweet little ass at the same time. “I would know, since I’ve tasted you everywhere.”
I moved higher up her thigh, and she froze, her entire body tense with anticipation. Mine responded automatically to hers, also revving up for the pleasure it knew was coming. And with my Carrie, the pleasure would be out of this world.
I knew that.
When I sucked on the sensitive inner thigh right below her panty line, she gasped and gripped me so tight it hurt. It felt fucking amazing. “Oh my God, Finn.”
“Ask me.” I flicked my tongue over her slit, tasting her through the thin fabric. She loved it when I made her beg, and I fucking loved it when she begged me. “Ask me nicely.”
“P-Please taste me.” She lifted her hips higher, demanding more. Demanding me. She bit down on her lower lip. “Please make me come.”
Since she asked nicely…
I ripped her panties off with one swift pull and spread her thighs wide. Settling between her legs, I stared down at her soft pink pussy. She was so wet and perfect, and I’d missed her so damn much. Missed everything about her. I didn’t think she’d ever truly understand how much I needed her in my life to be…well, me.
Lowering my mouth to her clit, I sucked her in deep and trailed my fingers over her slit, teasing her entry. Her intoxicating flavor washed over me, and I closed my eyes. I lost myself in pleasuring her. Man, I loved the way she squirmed right before she came, all frantic and crazy until she finally froze—my name on her lips and in her thoughts.
I’d get her there soon.
“Finn.” She buried her hands in my hair, holding on securely. “Oh my God, yes. Please. Yes.”
Fractured Lines Page 6
