Out of Time (Out of Line #2)(49)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

Chapter Twenty-Three

I hated this f**king place. All I’d done for the past three weeks was eat sand, get shot at, almost get blown up twice, and miss Carrie. I walked around like some lovesick f**ker who didn’t know how to live without a woman at his side.

And even worse? I was absolutely that f**king guy. And this assignment sucked donkey balls.

I’d been given three hours of down time, and I had every intention of using it to sleep and dream of her—even if it was seven o’clock at night. When you only got a handful of hours to sleep on any given day, you took them when you got them.

I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was with her. We were laying side by side, our hands touching and her ankle thrown over my calf like she always did in her sleep. Or maybe we were about to get ready for the big Wallington Annual Holiday Dinner.

I think that was today or tomorrow…

I’d kind of lost track of time lately. All the days blended into one long, drawn out nightmare. It would have been the perfect night to tell everyone we loved each other. We would all be together, with the normal social hierarchy gone.

We could have stood up, entwined hands, and announced our love for each other. I would look her father in the eye and assure him that I would never hurt Carrie…

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in,” I called out, sitting up straight and rubbing my eyes. Had I dozed off for a second there? It felt like it. “I’m up.”

Dotter popped his blond head in through the crack of the door. “We’re getting word of a disturbance up north about a mile. We have to go check it out.”

I was on my feet within seconds, shrugging into my bulletproof vest. “Yes, sir.”

He closed the door and I stomped into my boots, then grabbed my helmet off my bare bunk. I was halfway to the door before I realized I didn’t have the most important item with me. I crossed the room and snatched Carrie’s photo from under my pillow, tucking it securely inside my vest—next to my dog tags and over my heart.

As I walked out the door and nodded at my superior, he came to my side. “I heard a rumor we might be going home soon.”

I stopped walking. “She’s done exploring the rough and tough Middle East already?”

He snorted and opened the door. “I guess so. When she heard there was another disturbance she said maybe she would return home for the holidays. We might be stateside for Christmas.”

I grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve gotten all month.”

“I hear ya, Coram.” He slid into the Humvee and started the engine. I climbed up beside him, cocking my rifle and looking out the window. “Do you have a girl waiting for you back home?”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes for only a fraction of a second, picturing Carrie’s sweet smile. I opened them when we pulled forward and onto the makeshift road. “You?”

“A wife and two kids.” He drummed his thumbs on the wheel. “If I could be home for Christmas for once, I’d be quite happy.”

“I’m sure they would be, too, sir.” I scanned the shadows for any movement, but all was quiet on the western front. Okay, maybe that was a bad analogy to make when I was in this f**king place. “God willing, she’ll realize she did enough pilgrimage and we’ll be all set to go home for the holidays.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Dotter said.

“I’m not seeing anything.” I looked over my shoulder. “What was supposedly seen here?”

“We had a report of a suspicious blue vehicle, lurking by the entrance of the compound. And someone heard some loud booms.” He shrugged. “Out here, that’s not exactly the weirdest thing in the world.”

“Damn straight.” I kept looking. Nothing. “I think we can head back, sir.”

“I think you’re right, but, first, let’s go west a little more.”

I nodded and turned back out the window, watching for any signs of life. But in my head, I offered up a silent prayer that God had been listening earlier. That we were going home early, and that this nightmare would be over.

But most of all? I prayed we walked away from this f**king mess alive.

Carrie

The night of the party, I stood in front of the mirror and smoothed the maroon satin over the tulle that made it poof out underneath. Mom had picked the dress, and it so wasn’t my style, but I wore it anyway. She’d gone through the trouble of finding it, so the least I could do was wear it once before I donated it to charity.

I looked at the necklace she’d bought for me to wear with it, but I didn’t pick it up. If I wore that, I’d have to take off Finn’s necklace, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Not even for Mom.

I picked up the necklace she bought and shoved it inside the drawer by my bed. Then I went back to the mirror and studied my reflection. I looked tired and miserable. There were humongous bags under my eyes, and my cheeks looked hollowed out a little, too, no matter how much blush I applied.

But besides that, I guess I looked okay.

The dress was pretty. My hair was swept into a pretty updo that Marie had coached me through, and I had soft pink lip gloss on my lips. I picked up my phone and snapped a picture, then sent it off in an email to Finn.

He would like this dress. It looked easy enough to remove.

I waited to see if I got a reply, but none came. That wasn’t a huge surprise. Communication from him was sparse at best, but I ached to get something from him. Anything. It was the only way I had of keeping track of him.

Of knowing he wasn’t lying dead somewhere. I shook my head, trying to ditch that train of thought before it ruined my halfway decent mood. My phone buzzed and I picked it up, my heart racing. It wasn’t Finn. It was Marie. How’s it going?

I sent the picture I’d sent to Finn to Marie. Good. Do I look okay?

A few seconds, then: Geez, girl. Have you slept AT ALL?

Yeah. I tapped the phone on my chin. Okay, not much. I miss Double-oh-Seven.

As soon as I sent the message, I deleted it. She wrote back. Ah. Well, it’s almost over. Then we can have some girl time. For now, go to that party (I’m assuming you’re going to a party) and have some fun.

I smiled. I’ll try. Thanks for the pep talk.

And SLEEP.

I tossed my phone on my bed and headed for my door. The guests would be arriving soon, and I had to be there to greet them, or Mom would have a heart attack. I walked down the carpeted stairs, my hand gripping the white bannister at the end in case my heels decided to slip on the marble foyer.