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Bently swiped a hand over his face and blew out a breath. “She closed the bar. Mason had to go home because his daughter was sick. She was jumped trying to get into her car. He beat the shit out of her.”
Finn’s stomach turned to stone. Only the most depraved and insecure men laid a hand on a woman. Coward.
“A car pulled in and it must have scared him off before he could go any further. We had six other hits in the system with his DNA. Six other women he attacked and raped.”
A chill ran down Finn’s spine. Bile rose in his throat. “Was Charli . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“No. She put up a hell of a fight, got the asshole’s DNA under her fingernails. He was interrupted before that happened. But his newest victim wasn’t so lucky.”
Fantastic. A psycho was probably gunning for his wife, and instead of the thirty-three-year-old military man he should be, he was a seventeen-year-old boy stuck in a body he didn’t recognize. How was he going to protect her? Finn blew out a breath and put his hand on his hip to steady himself. “You think he will come back?”
“I don’t know. But since there is a chance, I wanted to warn her.” Bently slapped his hand over Finn’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Keep an eye on her. Stick close. She needs you.”
Finn nodded. Bently left the room. So much stress was piling on Finn’s shoulders. He needed some space. He opened the back door, sucking in the cold night air. Stars glittered above as the moon shone bright. He pounded his fist on his chest, his eyes burning and his throat constricting. Charli was hurt. She could be in danger again. Why didn’t she want him to know? He’d been too busy pushing her away this week to give her any reason to trust him, that’s why. Fuck! How was he supposed to protect her if she didn’t let him in?
“It gets easier,” a voice said from his side.
Finn spun around, fists clenched, ready for a fight. “Who the fuck are you?”
A tall man walked out from the shadows. Even in the moonlight, the scars on the side of his face were visible, twisting up the side of his mouth at an unnatural angle. “Mason. I work security.”
Right. The one who was supposed to take Charli to her car to keep her safe.
“What gets easier?” Finn asked.
“The triggers. The hyper reflexes. The PTSD.”
Finn didn’t have PTSD. How could he? He didn’t even remember his time in the service. Just that one nightmare he wasn’t even sure was a memory or not. “You get injured in the line of duty?” Finn asked. If this guy wanted to butt into his business, he’d make him equally uncomfortable.
“Yup. Navy SEAL. Can’t tell you where or how though,” Mason said, stepping closer, his feet scraping the gravel.
“I don’t have PTSD,” Finn said, standing taller.
“It’s not easy readjusting to civilian life. Not all of us do.” Mason’s gaze dropped for a moment before he continued. “But you’ve got a wife who loves you and a baby on the way who needs you. You gotta figure out how to navigate this, soldier. For them.”
“I—I don’t even remember what happened.”
Mason shrugged. “The body remembers, even if the mind hid the trauma away to protect you.”
“You’re about as good as a shrink as you are security,” Finn snapped.
Mason eyed him, guilt flashing in his gaze. A direct hit. “Pushing people away who wanna help you is only going to make this worse on you and everyone who loves you.” Mason walked past him, not waiting for a reply, disappearing beyond the corner of the building.
Finn let out another sigh. Why couldn’t he get a hold of himself? Was he truly losing his mind? He’d lashed out at Mason for not protecting Charli, but Finn hadn’t been there either. The key to remembering things was unlocking his brain. But the question was, what was his mind trying to protect him from? The accident? Unless that nightmare was actually a memory. Or was it something else? Something more dangerous and sinister with the power to rip apart his life? Had he killed someone? No. There’s no way I could do that.
“What are you hiding up there, Finn?” he said aloud to himself, a puff of his breath turning to smoke in the crisp air and floating up to the moon.
Maybe Mason had a point. Finn may not be sure who he was anymore, but one thing he did know is that he had two responsibilities: Charli and the baby. He needed to man up and take care of them, do better. But since when was half a man enough for anyone?
9
Charli
Charli slipped the keys into her pocket and shut the door to her car. She turned around, scanning the street. The hair on the back of her neck stood to attention as a shiver made its way up her spine. A mother with her baby in a stroller pushed on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. A few others she recognized as locals went into shops along Main Street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.
She checked her watch. Charli only had an hour before she needed to pick Finn up from his appointments at the Veterans Affairs. She walked towards the High Tide Diner, that prickly feeling of being watched clinging to her skin. Sweat beaded on her temple as she peeked over her shoulder. A man in a brown jacket and baseball cap followed far enough behind her that she couldn’t make out his face. Her pulse spiked as she increased her speed. She took out her keys and slipped them between each finger—the only weapon she had. Almost there. Just a few more feet. Her hand slipped over the metal door handle of the diner and she pulled with all her force, whipping the door open. She scanned the street where the man had been, but it was empty. He was gone.
“Are you okay?”
