Out of Time (Out of Line #2)(32)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

“It is. And I can give you all the knowledge you need to pull it off if you sign.”

I picked up the pen, hesitated, and signed on the line.

Chapter Fifteen

Saturday evening I shoveled more food onto a man’s plate. I usually came to the soup kitchen on Sundays, but I was trying to keep myself as busy as possible. This time I’d dragged Marie with me. Speaking of which…

I met her eyes from across the room. She made a face at me and I nodded discreetly. It was time to go. There were only a few people here and it was getting dark. It had been a heck of a day. I’d said goodbye to my parents and then studied English with Cory for a few hours.

I felt exhausted yet wide awake at the same time. It was time to get out of here, maybe grab a bite to eat, and try to get some sleep. I had no idea what to expect when Finn returned. Or what to hope for, besides him not leaving.

As Finn would say…this f**king wait was f**king killing me.

I took off the hairnet and smiled at the woman who ran the place, earning a wave in return, set down some McDonald’s cards, and made my way to Marie. “You ready to go?”

She nodded and headed for the door. “I don’t know how you do this all the time. It’s depressing.”

Deja vu. “It’s not depressing. They’re hungry and need food.” I shrugged. “It’s simple.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, now I’m hungry and need food, so feed me. Where are we going?”

I always went to Islands with Finn after the soup kitchen. It was weird not having him here with me. I missed him, and it had only been a few hours. What would it be like when he was gone? No, if he was gone?

“How about some Mexican?” I unlocked my car. “I could go for a quesadilla.”

“Sure.” She slid into the seat and pulled the mirror down, fluffing her hair. “If we go to that place on Pico, we could dance, too.”

“Dance? Yeah. I don’t think so.”

Marie rolled her eyes and buckled up. “You need to lighten up, Carrie. There’s nothing wrong with dancing.”

“You haven’t seen me dance,” I pointed out. “You’d disagree if you saw me in action.”

She laughed. “That bad?”

“That bad.”

“Okay, no dancing then.” She looked at me, her eyes shining with excitement. “Hey, we’re going skateboarding next weekend. How about if instead of feeding homeless people, you come with us? It’ll be fun.”

“That does sound fun.” I buckled up and pulled out of the parking lot. “Count me in.”

After we ate, I was on the way home alone. Marie had run into some guy she’d been flirting with lately and had chosen to stay with him. It was a relief, almost. It felt good to stop acting normal when I didn’t feel normal.

I felt stressed, exhausted, and way behind on life. And so freaking tired. Plus, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Finn was going to find out this weekend.

The whole way home, I went over every possible scenario that could come up. He could be going to war. Or maybe he was getting a promotion. Then again, he could be in trouble. Or he could be getting re-stationed across the country. The possibilities were endless, and I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out which one was the most statistically realistic one while also trying to figure out what my reaction would be.

If he had to move, would I move? Could I even do that?

I parked my car at the curb, not even realizing until I got out that I had gone to Finn’s apartment. I’d been on autopilot…but since I was here, I could use my key to get inside and take advantage of the shower. This morning I’d woken up too late, and the line for the showers had been horrendously long. I hadn’t had a good, hot shower in days, and I couldn’t wait to feel the hot water running down my body.

I slipped the key into the lock, turning it and pushing inside without lifting my head from my phone. I had two missed calls. One from Marie and the other from Finn. My heart picked up speed as I kicked the door shut behind me, swiping my finger over the screen so I could listen to the voicemail.

But the voicemail wasn’t from Finn. It was from Marie. Mexican music played in the background. “Hey, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know I won’t be home tonight. Enjoy the empty room.”

I dropped back against the door, the disappointment at missing Finn’s call so heavy that I couldn’t stand it. I hugged the phone to my chest, tears filling my eyes. Why hadn’t he left me a message? Even a simple I love you would have been better than nothing. “Damn it.”

“What’s with the cursing?” Finn asked, his voice loud and clear.

For a second, I thought I’d called him and somehow put the phone on speaker, but he switched on the light, and he was standing there in his uniform.

“Finn?” I stepped closer but then froze, my heart racing and seeming to painfully climb up from my chest until it felt as if it rested in my throat instead of my chest. I knew that wasn’t possible, of course, but I’d swear to it. “How are you home early?”

“They only needed me for a few hours,” he said, his tone neutral. “So I came home and called you right away. I saw you pull up, so I hung up.”

I knew his being home meant something to us. Something good or bad. But suddenly it didn’t matter anymore, because he was here. And that’s all that mattered, wasn’t it?

I took a step toward him, then another. By the time my foot hit the floor a third time, I was running. I’m talking hair-flying-behind-you, full-on sprint. Finn took a few steps toward me and opened his arms. I flung myself at him full force, holding on to him as if he alone could keep me on the ground.

He hugged me close, his arms wrapping around me so securely I couldn’t even move, and he kissed my temple. I pulled back, meeting his eyes, and forced a smile. “I’m so happy you’re home early.”

He smiled back at me. Even though he hadn’t opened his mouth, I just knew he was going to say something I wouldn’t like. I could feel his heart thumping, beating against my own almost in tandem. “Carrie, I—”

“No. Not yet.”

And I kissed him with all the emotions I had bottled up inside me all this time. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Didn’t want my worst fears to become so utterly, horrifically, devastatingly alive. When I had been a little girl, I’d been terrified of monsters that hid under my bed. Now, as an adult, I knew the real terror lie in words and actions. In life or death. Not in scary, hairy, huge beasts.