Out of Mind (Out of Line #3)(26)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

“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.