The OUT OF LINE Series

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The OUT OF LINE Series Page 15

by Jen McLaughlin


  “Carrie, I didn’t pretend to like you. It’s not history repeating itself.”

  “Oh my God, you know all about that too?” I covered my face with my hands. Somehow, him knowing all about my embarrassing past made it worse. So much worse. “Did you get a file on me? All my dirty little secrets?”

  He flinched. “Yes.”

  “Unbelievable.” I swallowed hard, my head spinning so fast I couldn’t even keep up. “I can’t believe it was all a lie. Do you have any idea how much I liked you?”

  “Please. Let me explain.”

  My heart twisted so hard it hurt. “Explain what, exactly? How you lied to me to get close to me? How you pretended to care about me? Or maybe how you slept with me because my dad told you to?”

  “No.” His voice broke. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “So you’re not watching me for my father and reporting back to him?”

  He flinched. “I am. But—”

  “There are no buts in this situation. None at all.” I let out a harsh laugh. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

  “It wasn’t all a lie. Not the way I feel about you.”

  “Don’t even go there.” I stared at the bed, the sheets still rumpled from our recent bout of sex. Swallowing hard, I covered my face with my hands. My stomach lurched, and I swallowed back the bile threatening to rise. “I can’t believe I…we…”

  “Carrie, don’t think like that. What we did there has nothing to do with your father,” he said, his voice raspy. His hand rested on my shoulder. “I wasn’t even supposed to—”

  I shrugged off his hand and dug my nails into my palms. The pain was a welcome distraction from the stronger, more mind-numbing pain he was causing me. “Don’t touch me! I trusted you. Actually trusted you.”

  His shoulders drooped and he held out his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

  “I don’t want to hear a single apology.” I pushed my hair out of my eyes and shook my head in disbelief. “What you felt or pretended you felt means nothing to me anymore. Just tell me everything from the beginning. How do you know my father?”

  “I work for him.” He clenched his hands at his sides. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but otherwise he looked completely unaffected. “I was sent here to watch over you because I’m the youngest in the security squad.”

  “Wait…what?” He couldn’t possibly work for Dad. I’d have remembered seeing him around the house. “I’ve never seen you there before. I know all the guys.”

  “I started working for him while you were abroad. When you came back, the senator hid me. His plan was already in motion,” he said, his shoulders straight and his head held high. “I didn’t want to do it, but he promised me a higher position and a raise if I stuck it out for a year.”

  Stuck it out for a year. As if it would be so horrible spending time with me. At least he had found a pleasing way to pass the time for himself. Seduce the senator’s daughter and laugh about it after. I swallowed past the tears threatening to escape. “Wow. So you get paid for banging his daughter behind his back. That must be poetic justice, huh?”

  “No.” He reached for me, but before he could touch skin, I stepped back and gave him a dirty look. His hands fell back to his sides. “It wasn’t like that. It’s not like that. If he knew what I did, I’d be fired, and so would my father. He works for your dad too.”

  “Your father?” I eyed him, trying to figure out who his father could possibly be. There was only one man with a son who could be Finn’s age, and he was the one I liked the best, of course. “Oh my God. Not Larry?”

  Finn flinched. “Yes.”

  “But his son isn’t called Finn. He’s Griffin…oh...” I sank onto the couch, my legs trembling. “Oh my God.”

  “I didn’t lie about my name. Finn is my nickname, and I kept my mother’s name because she was worried her side of the family would die out. There were lots of Hannigans, but no more Corams.” He tugged on his hair and shook his head. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I didn’t like doing this. I’m sorry.”

  It hurt enough knowing he’d been lying this whole time. To know that he hadn’t really liked me or even cared about me. Hearing him apologize for the farce was too much. “Stop saying that.”

  “But I am sorry.”

  I ignored him. I had to keep focusing on finding out the why and how, or I would break. I needed cold, hard facts. “How often did you have to report back to him? Did he…?” I paused, scared to ask this next question. Scared of what the answer might be. “Did he tell you to pretend to want to be with me? To act like you were interested in me?”

  “No.” He dropped to his knees in front of me, his gaze latched with mine. “I swear to you that nothing between us was a lie on that front. Not the friendship. Not the sex. Not a single conversation. I fell for you, and I fell hard. There was no fighting or pretending. None of it was a ploy to get close to you.”

  “You’re telling me that you came up to me on the beach simply because you had to know me?” I leveled a look on him and when he flushed I had my answer. “Exactly. Contrary to what I’ve shown you so far, I’m not gullible.”

  “I know you’re not, but I’m telling you the truth.” He looked toward the bed, then back at me. “I care about you, Carrie. More than I care about my job or myself. More than I should ever have let myself care for you.”

  “Stop saying that,” I demanded, covering my ears. I couldn’t believe him. Not ever again. “You’re a liar and I don’t trust you, so just stop.”

  “I know.” He nodded and stumbled back from me, his mouth held taught. “I’m sorry.”

  If he said he was sorry one more time, I’d scream. Literally scream. I pulled my phone out and started typing Dad’s number. This was over right now. “I’m calling him.”

  “I know.” He paled even more. “Go ahead. Tell him how much I fucked up.”

  I paused with my finger over the screen. He’d said something about his father earlier. If I called Dad, would Larry get fired? “So what happens if I call my dad and tell him I know what he did? Will he send you home?” I hovered with my finger over the send button.

  His shoulders drooped and he fell back against the wall. “Yeah. I’m sure I’ll be fired, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  Still, I hesitated. “Why did it have to be a lie? Why you too?”

  He took a shaky breath. “Carrie, please.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I swear to you I didn’t mean to hurt you. I tried so hard not to fall for you. To push you away. But I couldn’t.”

  I swallowed hard. “Are you really twenty-three?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you really a Marine?”

  He dropped his head into his hands and sighed. “Yes.” He lifted his head. “I told you, the only lies between us were the fact that I didn’t tell you why I was here.” His jaw flexed and he pushed to his feet. “The rest is real. I am still your friend and your—”

  I laughed harshly. “You’re not my friend. You were never my friend. It was all an assignment.”

  He flinched. “At first, maybe, but not now. Not for a long time.”

  My heart squeezed so tightly I couldn’t breathe. Oh, how I wanted to believe him. How much my heart begged for him to be telling me the truth. But that’s exactly why I couldn’t. I’d fallen for his lies once. I wouldn’t do it again. “Just stop. Stop the act. I’m not standing here so you can lie to me. All I want is information.”

  He just stared at me. “What else do you want to know?”

  Everything. Nothing. What I really wanted was for us to go back in time to a few minutes ago. Back to when I’d been blissfully unaware of the fact that Finn had been spending time with me because he had to.

  “How often do you report to him?”

  “Every day,” he said. “I watch you and report back to him every day. I’m supposed to keep doing so throughout the next year.”

  I clung to the table next to me, giving him
my back. He’d been following me. Studying my motions like some sick stalker or something. All in the name of Dad’s twisted need to control me. To control my life. The thought left a sick taste in my mouth. “Why did you let me get this close when you knew it would come to this?”

  “I couldn’t stop myself.” His footsteps crept closer. “I fell for you hard, Ginger.”

  I whirled and shoved him backward as hard as I could. So hard my palms hurt, but it still wasn’t hard enough. I would never be able to hurt him as much as he hurt me. “Don’t you dare call me that now. Not ever again. You don’t have that right anymore.”

  “Fine.” He didn’t back down at all, his eyes flashing. “Go ahead and call it in. Tell your father I failed. Tell him to fire me.”

  “So he can send another man out here in your place?”

  He shrugged, the motions carefree, but the look in his eyes did nothing to hide the tension swirling inside him. “The next one will probably be better at keeping his hands to himself.”

  I curled my fists. “Unlike you?”

  “Unlike me.” He met my eyes again, challenging me. “Go ahead. You know you want the satisfaction of seeing me canned. I can see it in your eyes. You hate me. Get your revenge.”

  I didn’t hate him. This would be so much easier if I did.

  I swallowed past the words dying to come out. The ones that begged him to not really be a spy or a traitor. The ones that would kill my pride with one great, sweeping blow. I should do exactly what he said—call Dad. But if I did that, Dad would simply send another spy in. At least with Finn, I knew what to expect.

  Was that reason enough to keep him around? I couldn’t imagine having to see him every day after this. To be reminded of how much an idiot I had been, time and time again. “What will happen to your dad?”

  Finn’s façade crumbled. Guilt took its place, and he yanked on his hair. “He’ll lose his big pension, but that’s my responsibility to bear, not yours. Do it.”

  I liked his dad, but that wasn’t why I hesitated. That wasn’t why I wasn’t pulling the trigger, so to speak. No, something besides empathy drove me. Something uglier and more self-serving. “You want me to do it. You want to be sent away, don’t you?”

  He held his hands out to his sides. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”

  “Ah, but I think you do.” I pointed the phone at him, laughing lightly. “Is the guilt too much for you? Can’t stand seeing the effects of your lies? Ready to run?”

  “Yes, it’s too much,” he cried. “I hurt you and I’m sorry. I know you hate me, and I know why, but just fucking end it already, or I will.”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re going to stay. You’re going to watch me forget all about you. Watch me move on. You’re going to do your duty, and you’re going to report back to him like the good little spy you are.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “Why the hell would I do that?’

  “To save your father.” I tilted up my chin. “And because you owe me. You made me want to be with you, then you turned out to be nothing but a fraud.”

  His face crumpled and he sank down on the couch. He looked as if he gave up. Stopped caring or hoping. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  “Good.”

  “I really am sorry,” he rasped, his head low. I couldn’t see his face, but the sincerity in his voice almost broke me. “I hope you know that.”

  I tensed, my whole body aching to go to him. To comfort him, of all things. I was really messed up in the head from all this crap. “The only thing I know now is what my father’s spy looks like, and I want to keep knowing. You’ll do your duty, but you’ll stay the hell away from me. I don’t want to see you, smell you, or even hear you. Just report back to my dad while leaving me the hell out of it.”

  He lifted his head, and the vulnerability I’d caught a glimpse of was gone. “I can’t follow you around, watching you flirt with other men. Not anymore.”

  “You should have thought of that before we did what we did.” I collected my books and lifted my phone to my ear. “Yes, I’d like a cab, please.” I told the operator my location and hung up. “Text him and tell him I studied and went to bed early.”

  Finn picked up his phone and quickly typed. Then he threw it down on the couch. “You have no idea what you’re starting here. You should report me immediately.”

  “I should, but I won’t.” I looked out the window, waiting for the cab.

  “Why not?”

  I forced a shrug. “Because I want to know what to expect. Because I’m more like my father than I realized. I like being in control too.”

  “With me, you’ve never been in control.”

  “Yeah, I know that now.” I blinked back tears, refusing to show him how much I hurt. Refusing to show him my weakness—him. “But from now on, I will be.”

  I hurriedly gathered the rest of my things, including my shirt I couldn’t find earlier, and he stayed quiet. Thank God. I couldn’t pretend like I wasn’t dying inside any longer. Couldn’t pretend he hadn’t broken my heart, when he had. If he knew how hard I had fallen, he would never leave me alone. Never let me move on. And I needed to move on.

  The cab beeped from outside, and I turned to face him. He watched me with a weird mixture of apprehension and longing. “I don’t want to see you watching me. Just do your job, and stay out of my way.”

  When I headed for the door, he stood up. “I’m sorry, Gi—” He broke off. “Carrie. I really am.”

  I paused with my hand on the knob, squeezing it so tightly my knuckles hurt. “So am I.”

  I opened the door and walked out of his apartment for the last time. I had no intention of ever stepping foot inside it again. I didn’t want to see him again either. Didn’t need the reminder that he had stolen my heart and then stomped it into the dirt.

  If only he had buried it too.

  A few days later, and a hell of a lot of thinking and heartache later, I grabbed my phone, jotted off a quick text to Senator Asshole letting him know his daughter was still alive, and then grabbed my surfboard. It had been too long since I’d been out in the ocean alone. Too long, especially since it was pretty much the only place that no one bugged me or talked to me or told me to fuck off.

  The past few times I’d come had been with Carrie, but those days were obviously over. Shit, we were over, and I was miserable because of it. I missed her. Missed having her in my arms. Missed the man I was with her. She made me better. Different. Whole.

  But not anymore. I was destined to walk around half-filled for the rest of my miserable life. With a sigh, I juggled my board and closed the door, making sure to lock it, then headed for my bike. After sliding my surfboard into the special slot I’d had added on to the side earlier this week, I revved the engine and pulled away from the curb. The wind blew through my hair since I hadn’t grabbed my helmet, and I took a deep breath.

  I hadn’t expected to miss her so damn much once she left me. It had been a relationship born out of lies and pretenses, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And she probably hadn’t even thought of me once since the other day, besides to curse me out.

  In all three languages she spoke.

  She’d told me she could speak three languages. I also knew she let out a tiny little snore every once in a while when she slept. She gave almost all of her allowance to the poor and rarely spent any money. She liked her milkshakes creamy, not watery. I hadn’t read any of that in her file. There was so much I knew about her that her damn file didn’t know. We had surpassed the working relationship I’d meant to maintain a long time ago. But to her, that’s all I’d ever be.

  The guy who was sent to spy on her by her daddy.

  Ever since she told me to leave her alone, she’d spent almost every passing second with Cory. They ate together. Walked together. Studied together. They seemed to be attached at the hip, and it was driving me insane with jealousy each time I saw them. Ripping my chest open until a tiny little monster grew bigger than fuckin
g Godzilla. A part of me was sure she was hanging with that loser just to hurt me.

  But she didn’t believe me about how much I cared for her—refused to believe me. So she wouldn’t be trying to hurt me if she thought I was just talking to her for the job, which only made it worse. It meant that every time she laughed at something Cory said and hugged the jerk closer, it was real. It wasn’t some scheme to torture me.

  She actually liked the little fucker.

  I parked my bike and slid off the seat. After taking off my shirt, I put on my wetsuit, my eyes on the blue water. It looked particularly impetuous today. Good. I was in the mood to get tossed around. Hard. I headed for the beach, excitement taking over for the first time since Carrie had broken it off with me. I would get out there, ride a few waves, and forget all about—

  “Why are you here?” Carrie asked from somewhere behind me.

  I paused midstride, my heart leaping at the sound of her voice. God, I had missed hearing that sass in her tone. That spark of something that no one else could possibly bring out in me. I forced a neutral expression to my face and turned to face her.

  She wore her wetsuit, but had it down around her waist, and her unruly hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had big bags under her eyes, as if she’d been sleeping poorly. I forced my attention to return to the ocean, and said, “I’m going to church.”

  “Haha.” Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her eye my surfboard, her blue eyes cold and her lips pressed tightly together. Her small spattering of freckles danced across her nose, and her curly red hair already whipped across her forehead. She looked perfect. “Very funny, but don’t quit your day job of stalking college girls.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be funny or a joke. This is my version of church.” I felt stupid for letting her know how I really felt about surfing, but there was no going back now. I’d already opened my big fat mouth. I shrugged and tried my best to look like I didn’t give a damn what she thought about me. “When I’m out there, it’s just me, God, and the ocean. No one else can interfere with me except Mother Nature herself.”

 

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