Riley, an old college friend of Carrie’s and mine, rocked back on his heels. “Did who call me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Quit the innocent act. There’s only one person who knows where I am staying, and she has red hair.”
“Okay. You got me.” Riley grinned. He still had the same blond hair and green eyes as before, but he was no longer the college kid he’d been when I met him. He was all grown up…as much as he’d ever be, anyway. “Can I come in?”
“I have to leave.” Despite my words, I opened the door and let him inside. “I’m supposed to go see Susan tonight.”
“It’s fine. Carrie’s running late, anyway, because she was with me.”
I stiffened, despite my trust in both him and Carrie. Riley had always had a thing for her, and something told me despite the life he now lived…that thing had never really died. “Jumping in already? My side of the bed isn’t even cold yet.”
“I’m engaged, dude.” Riley brushed past me. “Calm your jealous hormones—though it’s good to see you still care. She thinks you don’t.”
“One of the many problems our relationship has.”
“The biggest one is the fact that you left and haven’t contacted her, besides to shoot her a text that you’d be visiting Susan on Friday.” Riley crossed his arms. “What the fuck, man?”
My cheeks heated. “I assure you there’s more to the story than that.”
“Oh, I think I know most of it. More than you do, even.” He hesitated, and dropped his arms to his sides. “She came to me for legal advice, man. Asking for help in case it came to...”
“Legal advice?” My heart stuttered. I closed my eyes. “Not…oh.”
Of course. She was moving forward. Without me.
I’d told her to, after all.
“Yes. That. The big ‘D’ word. She isn’t looking into it yet, but she thinks it’s what you want. Thinks you’re done for good.” Riley crossed the room and stopped in front of me. “You need to get your shit together, go over there, and fix this. Now.”
Divorce. Carrie was actually looking into the possibility of divorce. I staggered back as if Riley had physically hit me, and I almost wished he had. It would have hurt less than this. The reality of what was happening to me, of all that I was losing, hit me like an iron anvil on the head.
I’d known it was coming, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Fuuuck,” I snarled, heading for the door.
The ever-present rage sent my blood coursing through my veins at breakneck speeds. And pain. So much fucking pain that it nearly blinded me.
Nearly incapacitated me. It might still.
“Hey, hey,” Riley said, jumping in front of me. “You need to calm down, man. Didn’t you tell her it’s what you wanted?”
“I don’t want this. How could I ever fucking want this?” I pushed him out of the way. “And I can’t be calm.”
“Yeah.” Riley shoved me back. “You fucking can.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “Did you just fucking push me?”
“Yeah. But you pushed me first.” He shoved my shoulders even harder. “And I’ll do it again, too, if it’s what I need to do to get you to use your head.”
“You want me to use my head?”
“Yes, I do.” He eyed me cautiously. “Think things through for once in your life.”
Snarling, I took a swing at him, not even stopping to think it through. Not even bothering to remember that this was my friend, and that he was trying to help me. Trying to help us. I just reacted. “Fuck you.”
“Dude.” Riley leapt back, his eyes wide. He stumbled back, his hands up in the air. “Finn, stop it.”
I stalked toward him. “Give me one good reason not to kick your ass right now.”
“Susan. I’m her godfather.” He cocked his head. “Is that good enough?”
Mid-step, I froze. Slowly, I uncurled my fists, cracked my knuckles, and fisted them again. “Damn you.”
“I get that you’re confused, hurt, angry, and feeling bloodthirsty right now. I do.” Riley dropped his hands; his green eyes locked on mine with way too much compassion. “But you can’t mess this thing up again. You guys have to work this out. You just have to.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it. The word “divorce” was ringing in it nonstop. It was such a dirty fucking word. One I’d never thought I’d have to speak in the same sentence as Carrie’s name. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because if you two can’t make it work, there’s no hope for the rest of us.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you two are getting divorced, then I’m screwed before I even get married. I’ve never seen anyone in love as much as the two of you. Ever.”
“Not even you and—”
“No.” Riley lifted a shoulder. “Not even close, man.”
I wanted to revisit that, but at another time. “I don’t know if it can be fixed this time,” I said, rubbing my temples. “The things she used to love about me? She now hates. The spontaneous nature she once used to go crazy for? Now she yells at me for not planning things through. And the lies. So many lies…”
Riley stared at me. “People grow up. They change. You just have to try to change together.”
“Don’t you think I’m fucking trying? Huh?” My chest tightened. “I don’t know why I flipped out, really. It’s what I told her to do. Move on. Try again with someone who’s more like her. We’ve tried hard enough, and we’ve failed.”
“Bullshit,” Riley snapped. “Shut the fuck up.”
“We just don’t work,” I said. “As much as I hate it, it’s true. We’re not a good couple at all. She’d be happier with someone from your world.”
I eyed him. I’d once thought he and Carrie would make the perfect couple, and it was true. They would. They were the same. I was…me. I’d thought we could move past that, but I don’t think we could. I think it’s why we were here, on the brink of divorce.
Riley stiffened. “Don’t even think about looking at me like that. You’re the perfect guy for her. Not me.”
I shrugged like I didn’t give a damn when I clearly did. “Whatever, man.”
“Plus, I’m engaged.”
“And I’m married,” I mumbled, staring down at my platinum wedding ring. “Shit changes in the blink of an eye. It’s called life.”
“Why did you do it?” Riley watched me closely. Too closely. “Why did you take those pills again? And why didn’t you tell her the truth? You know how much she hates lies. You had to know it would end this way.”
“I didn’t think at all,” I admitted. “I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I was in pain, and I was in hell again. The accident brought me back to…to what I was when we met. A big fucking mess.” I averted my eyes, my cheeks growing hot. “Nightmares. Panic attacks. Migraines. You name it, I had it. I thought if I could at least take the pain away, I could maybe handle the rest. I was wrong.”
“But why didn’t you tell her?” he asked, his voice soft. “She could have helped you.”
I squared my jaw. “I was worried we’d break up again. We did.”
“After she caught you in a bunch of lies. If you’d been straightforward with her, maybe it would have ended differently. Did you tell her that you were suffering from PTSD again?” he asked.
“Yes.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “After.”
“Are you seeing a therapist again?”
“No.” I headed for the door. “I’ll be fine on my own.”
Riley clenched his jaw and stepped in my path again. “But what if you aren’t?”
“Then I’m not.” I flexed my fingers. “But it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve been destroyed by my actions and lies. There’s no fixing that.”
“What are you going to do about Carrie, then?” Riley followed me. “Just roll over and let her leave you? Let her move on? Marry another man? Let another man raise your child? Watch as another man fucks your wi—?”
&nb
sp; I slammed him into the wall, bunching his shirt in my fist and exerting enough pressure on his chest to make him stop talking. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
“What?” He grinned at me cockily, looking entirely unconcerned that an unstable Marine with PTSD was seconds from killing him. “It’s what will happen if you let her go. Did you think she’d become a nun?”
“I didn’t—” I broke off, shoving him a little harder against the wall. “I didn’t think about it at all. Not really. We’re supposed to be spending the rest of our lives together. Now we’re not, and it hurts so much I don’t really see much point in doing anything anymore. It’s all just an act of moving from one thing to the next. There’s no future. No anything. That’s all I know.”
My voice cracked on the last word, but I didn’t even bother to act embarrassed. That’s how awful the thought of not growing old with Carrie felt. It was worse than an IED explosion, or a car accident that barely managed to total my car…
But managed to total my life.
Carrie
At ten after five, I stared at myself in the mirror for a second. I’d put on a little bit of red lipstick, a dress, and Finn’s favorite pair of black boots. The ones he said belonged over my head instead of on the floor. We hadn’t spoken or even seen each other ever since he’d walked away from me.
I missed him so freaking much. I’d spent the whole week crying, tossing and turning, and trying to stay strong for him. Trying to realize that leaving was just something he had to do to get better, and I had to accept that. He was trying to get better, but he needed to do it alone. I had to believe that when he was ready, he’d come back.
For a split second earlier today, I’d doubted that.
I’d doubted that love would be enough for us. I’d even had a late lunch with Riley and sought his advice on divorce in case it became necessary. But just saying the word had made me realize it wouldn’t be. I had to have faith in us. In our love.
He’d come home when he was ready.
He was coming to visit Susan tonight. She was upstairs taking her late afternoon nap, but she’d be awake any second now. Since I knew he’d be hanging out for a while, I’d cooked his favorite meal for him. Usually he did the cooking, but every once in a while I made homemade fettuccine Alfredo, and he begged for it.
I was hoping he’d take it as the sign it was. A sign of my belief that he’d get better, and he’d come home. My phone rang, and I glanced down at it. It was my dad. He’d called like ten times in the past hour, but I’d been ignoring it so I could get ready.
The doorbell rang at the same time as the phone. I silenced the ringer, not wanting my talk with Finn to be interrupted, took a steady breath, and opened the door.
I started talking before I even saw him. “She’s still asleep, but she’ll be up any—” I broke off. It wasn’t Finn. It was a man I’d never seen before. He had a black hat on, a black hoodie, and his hands were behind his back. He looked like a deliveryman or something. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Can I help you?”
“Yeah. You can. I didn’t want to do this, you know.”
My heart sped up. This man…something wasn’t right. “Didn’t want to do what?”
“Hurt anyone.” The man lifted a shaking hand. It took me a second, but then I saw it. There was a gun in his hand. He shoved me through the open door of my home, and I stumbled backward. “But he’s left me no choice. None at all.”
I kept one hand behind my back, trying to keep my calm. Trying not to panic, but it was kind of hard when a man you didn’t know was holding a gun with a shaky hand that was pointed at your face. “No one needs to get hurt, sir. What’s wrong? Who didn’t leave you a choice?”
“Him. Your father.” The man scratched his temple with the gun, letting out a terrifying sob. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and shoved a bunch of photos at me. “Look at them.”
I took them with trembling hands. A young woman with blonde hair smiled at the camera. “Is this…?” My voice cracked because it was hard to talk. The fear he’d brought out in me was debilitating. My knees were trembling and I’d broken out in a sweat. All I could think was that my own daughter was upstairs asleep, and I had to keep her safe from this madman. “Is this your daughter?”
“Yes.” He scratched his temple with the gun again, and snatched the photos back. He shoved them into his pocket. “Someone took her life with a gun, and now I’m going to do it to you. To his daughter.”
I held one hand out, a small cry escaping me when he whipped the gun back toward me. My thumb flew over my phone, behind my back. “Who are you? Let me help you, please. Let me help you. I can help.”
“There’s only one way you can help me.” He gave me an evil grin. The kind that sent shivers down your spine because you knew the person giving it to you was dangerous. “Y-Y-Y-You can die.”
It seemed as if time was frozen, or suspended, or something. As if in slow motion, my brain realized three things. One: This man was going to kill me in my own house. Two: Susan was going to cry when he shot me. Three: Finn was going to find me dead.
He’d already seen enough death in his lifetime.
This would kill him.
But if he got here in time, he could stop it. He could save me again. He had to be close to the house by now. And I had to let him know there was danger. He couldn’t just walk in, unaware of the situation. He could get hurt.
“Wait. No, please.” I backed up, a hand held up in the air, and the man followed me. I hit the last button of Finn’s phone number. With a trembling hand, I hit dial. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“My name’s Kyle Farmer. But it doesn’t matter.” The man smiled evilly, and a sickening shudder went up my spine and through my body. “Because you’re going to be dead.”
My heart thudded so fast and hard it hurt, and all I could hear was what might possibly be the last beats my heart ever made. I knew that name. It was the name of the man my father had said threatened me—and then he’d said hadn’t been a real threat.
If that was true, then why was he here?
I swallowed hard. “Please. Take what you want, but please don’t hurt me.”
“But you see…” The man cocked the gun. “What I want is your life.”
He said it so calmly, so clearly enunciated, that I knew he meant it. Over the years, I’d worked with a lot of different types of people. I’d seen lots of severely ill and disturbed people. And I’d treated people who were off their meds and had a chemical imbalance, as well as people who were just sad and needed to talk.
But this guy? He was the worst kind.
He was the type of guy who would kill an entire family without flinching, and not even feel a single moment of remorse over it. “Please,” I whispered.
Was Finn on the phone? Was he hearing any of this?
Headlights hit the front door, and I closed my eyes in relief. Finn was here. He’d save me, like he always did. But he’d need my help if he was going to do it safely and—
A loud boom reverberated through the house, and the next thing I knew…
The world went black.
And everything ceased to exist.
Finn
I drove down the road that led to Carrie’s driveway at twelve after five, slowing down as I approached. My heart pounded fast and hard as I did so. From the road, I could see all the lights downstairs were on, but the upstairs was dark. That was the first thing I noticed. The second thing I noticed was the wide open door, which struck me as odd.
Carrie didn’t usually open the door before I came over…
I stopped on the side of the road, not sure how to proceed. Did she have company? Then I saw it. A motorcycle hidden in the shadows. Carrie wasn’t alone. But who would she have here when she knew I was—?
My phone rang, and I picked it up, staring at the open door the whole time. “Hello?”
There was no one there.
“Hello?” I said again, my eyes
still on the door. I pulled the phone back and stared at it. Carrie. But why was she calling me? And why couldn’t I hear her? I put the phone back to my ear. “I’m outside on the road. Why are you calling me?”
No reply.
I listened closely. I could barely make it out, but I heard something about guns…and… “Please. Take what you want, but please don’t hurt me.”
Shit. Someone was in there, and he was trying to hurt my Carrie.
Cursing under my breath, I peeled into the driveway and threw my door open. As soon as my foot hit the driveway, a loud bang broke the silence of the night, and for a split second, I was frozen. Ever since the IED explosion, loud noises sent me flying backward, looking for cover. But this time I knew she needed me.
I couldn’t afford to panic.
Couldn’t listen to the voices in my head.
Carrie had taken one of my guns, but she hadn’t taken the second one. I yanked my Glock out of my holster and bolted the rest of the way to the door, my heart thundering and my legs feeling weak as hell, yet stronger than ever.
Because inside that house was my family.
A man dressed all in black came out the door, a silver revolver in his hand. When he saw me, he startled and lifted his arm, the gun pointed at my chest. I reacted without thinking. Didn’t let myself think. I just pulled the trigger.
Another deafening boom, and then he hit the ground without taking a shot. My hurried aim had been good, because I got him square between the eyes. There was no doubt in my mind that he was dead.
Even so, I crept closer and kicked the gun out of his reach.
The cops would want that later.
Neighbors were screaming and people were shouting in suburbia panic, but I didn’t really hear them. I just stared at the man on my front porch and watched as the blood poured out of his head, staining my white concrete. I’d killed a man, after years of being tortured by the memories of my dying platoon.
Now he’d haunt me too. This man.
But then I remembered why he’d been there in the first place. “Carrie,” I whispered, my chest going tight. “Carrie!”
I leapt over the dead body, and the sightless brown eyes, and skidded into the foyer of my house. The house Carrie and I had built together, after months of planning and plotting. I’d just killed a man on the front porch. We hadn’t planned for that.
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