Out of Mind Read Online Free

right?” Carrie sank on the bed beside me, her hands reaching for my one good one. “You were having the dream again, weren’t you?”
    I flopped back down, hating that she was seeing me like this. Scarred. Weak. Broken. Scared. Maybe I should start gagging myself when I went to bed. Or just give up sleeping altogether. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice a lot harder than I’d wanted it to be. “Just fucking relax.”
    She stiffened. If this had been before I’d been fucked up, she would have snapped back at me. Given me as good as I gave her. But she was walking on eggshells around me. Pampering me. I just wanted her to fight with me and be my stubborn Carrie. I wanted that easy camaraderie back so bad that it hurt more than my arm and my head combined.
    She nodded, nibbling on her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I—”
    “ Don’t .” I rolled out of the bed. “Don’t apologize to me again.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You keep apologizing when I’m the one being a prick. Stop it.”
    She shook her head. “You’re not being a ‘prick.’”
    “Yeah. I am.”
    She stood up, too, and curled her hands at her sides. “I know you’re stressed and not sleeping well. It’s okay to be a little cranky after what you experienced.”
    “A little bit cranky ?” I locked the door. “That’s the understatement of the damn century.”
    She ignored me. Just lifted that stubborn chin of hers higher. “I know this is hard for you to deal with, so I’m not going to fight with you, no matter how hard you try to piss me off.”
    “You never do anymore, Carrie.” I crossed the room slowly, never taking my eyes off her. “You’re too scared to.”
    She bit down on her lip. I watched her, studying the curve of that lip. I loved that little pink mouth of hers. And suddenly, I wanted to taste it. No, needed to taste it. Wanted to feel normal for one fucking minute of today, before I lost myself in the agony that wouldn’t leave me alone. Wanted to go back to how I’d been, instead of what I’d become. “I’m not scared of you, Finn. But tell me, what do you want from me? You want me to fight with you?”
    “Sometimes, yes. But not right now—not anymore.” I stepped closer. “Right now? I want you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
    “ Finn .” She held her hands out. “You already have me.”
    “No. I had you.” I shook my head. “But I haven’t had you since I’ve come back.”
    Comprehension lit her eyes, and she flushed. “Then you can have me.” She closed the distance between us, reaching up to close her palms around the back of my neck. “What are you dreaming about every night? Tell me about it. Talk to me.”
    Talk? I didn’t want to fucking talk. I wanted to feel . Forget. Move on. “I c-can’t, Carrie.” I shook my head, dissipating the bloody images she’d brought to life with her words. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know about anything else, but I can’t talk about that night. Not to anyone.”
    “Okay. Okay.” She made a soothing sound, as if I were a baby or some shit like that. That needed to end right fucking now. I was a man. A broken man, but a man nonetheless. “You’re not ready.”
    “I never will be ready,” I managed to say through my suffocating anger. “It’s not something I’m willing to relive through conversation. I already see it every night, and that’s enough for me.”
    She shook her head. “But if you talk to someone, it helps.”
    “Yeah, well, you’re not a therapist.”
    A flash in her eyes answered me before she even opened her mouth. A hint of the real Carrie shined through. About damn time. “No, but I am going to school for it.”
    “Occupational.”
    She pressed her lips together. “Still—”
    “Nope. Not happening.”
    She narrowed her eyes on me. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, but you need to talk to someone. It will help you recover.”
    Recover, my ass. Therapists made you talk because it made them money.