I stiffened when he came closer, blinking rapidly. The room was in shambles, vases and glasses were broken, and Carrie was sobbing. The paramedic was still holding her back, and everyone was looking at me like I was crazy. Even Carrie looked scared.
What had I done?
I tore my gaze from Carrie’s wet face, looking down at my hand in surprise. It was dripping with blood, all over the pristine white carpet, and the skin was ripped back from the knuckles. It looked as if a storm had gone off in the room, and that storm had been me.
I’d done this.
“C-Carrie?” I looked up at her, swiping my forearm across my cheeks. It came back wet. I’d been crying? I didn’t f**king cry. “He’s gone?”
She shoved the paramedic off her and stood, her legs barely supporting her. She took an unsteady step toward me, and then another. Her father watched, looking as if he was going to step in the way. She shot him a look, brushed past him, and walked up to me. “Y-Yes, he’s gone.”
I choked on a sob, and she threw herself at me, hugging me tight. I clung to her with one arm, letting myself cry. I hadn’t cried since my mom died, and now here I was again. Alone. “I’m alive, and he’s dead. They’re all dead.”
I buried my face in her neck and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see the senator watching me, looking horrified and sad. Didn’t want to watch as the paramedics zipped my father in a black bag and hauled his lifeless body away. And I didn’t want to accept the fact that I was the only one who kept living, while everyone else around me died.
Who was next? Carrie? I was a toxic bomb, killing everyone who cared about me.
She hugged me tighter. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
But she was dead wrong. It should have been me.
Chapter Nine - Carrie
A little while later, I pulled the blankets over Finn’s shoulders, kissed his forehead, and turned out the light. He hadn’t really said anything after he’d gone insane and started breaking things. He kept just staring off into the distance, talking when spoken to, but in a way that told me he wasn’t really there. He might have been holding my hand, but he might as well have been across the country—or the world, for that matter.
He was gone.
Right now, he was buried in grief, and there was nothing I could do to help him. Sure, I could love him and be here for him, but I couldn’t bring his dad back. He’d already been struggling with the deaths he’d seen, and now he had one more to add to the pile. The worst one since his mother died.
I was scared he was going to drift away from me. Heck, he’d already started to. Absentmindedly, I touched the tender spot on my cheekbone. When he’d started bashing the wall, I’d tried to stop him. Tried to calm him down. Stupid, really. When a huge guy is going insane and breaking things, you shouldn’t jump in the way.
If he knew something he’d broken and/or thrown had hurt me by accident, he’d never forgive himself. That’s why he’d never find out. It hadn’t been on purpose, after all. He didn’t need to know.
I stood up, ready to find my bed. It was already five in the morning, but I could maybe sneak in two hours before the household rose and started preparing for the funeral. I almost cried out when he grasped my hand. He’d finished almost a whole bottle of whiskey and taken two pain pills. For once, I hadn’t even harped at him for mixing the two. But I thought he’d been out.
“Carrie?” His voice slurred. “Where are you going?”
I sat back down. “Nowhere. I’m right here.”
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you, too.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”
He drifted off to sleep again, and I rested my head on the mattress. Dad came up behind me, his shadow falling over the two of us. “Are you going to bed now?”
I shook my head, but didn’t bother to lift it. “He needs me tonight.”
“Carrie...” He came closer. “I care about him. I really do, but if he continues in this self-destructive behavior, this has to end. He’s dangerous right now. He could hurt you.”
I sat up straight and glowered at him. “His dad just died. Think about that before you go judging him. When he flipped out, he wasn’t himself.” I looked back at him. His brow was wrinkled, but his breathing was even and deep. He appeared to be asleep. I hoped he was. He didn’t need to hear this. “He wouldn’t…he doesn’t do this stuff. He’s not himself right now.”
Dad nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
“I’m not leaving him. I love him.”
“I know, and I know he loves you. I never disputed that.” Dad headed for the door. “You can spend the night. I happen to agree with you on one point—he needs you right now. But leave the door open.”
He walked out into the hallway, leaving us alone. His words kept ringing in my head. I pressed my fingers to my cheekbone. Dad hadn’t seen me get injured, thank God. His reaction would have been just as bad as Finn’s if he ever found out about it.
“He’s wrong.” Finn’s eyes opened again. He pulled the covers back with his bandaged hand. “I would never hurt you. I’d sooner kill myself.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes off his injured hand. The paramedics had taken care of it after they removed Larry’s body. They’d also asked us if we wanted to press charges against Finn for the damage done to our home. Dad and I both said no immediately. Mom had agreed with us after a small moment of hesitation.
He had a broken arm and a busted hand. How was he supposed to take care of himself now? Easy. He wouldn’t. I would have to be his hands.
“I know,” I whispered, climbing in beside him. “Don’t listen to him.”
His unbroken arm wrapped around me, holding me close. He kissed the top of my head, letting out a shaky sigh after. “I love you, Ginger. You know that, right?”
I blinked back tears and nodded, not answering him.
“I’m sorry I lost it like that. Something just…I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d lose him, too. Not yet.” His voice cracked, and he let out a strangled groan. “I didn’t know I’d be so alone. Didn’t know I could hurt more than I already was.”
I lifted my head and cupped his cheek. “You’re not alone, Finn. You have me and my parents.”