But he was leaving tomorrow morning, and I’d missed him, and it had to happen. I was terrified that once he showed up tomorrow, he wouldn’t be coming back. Scared that something or someone wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t leave me.

I pushed off the door and crossed the room quietly. I peeked in the direction of Marie’s bed, but it was empty. Guess I didn’t have to be so quiet. I flopped back on the bed and looked up at the dark ceiling. I should probably shower or something, but I didn’t want to move.

I kept replaying the short visit with Finn over and over in my head, like a baby’s lullaby. He’d actually gotten a tattoo for us. That was huge for him. We didn’t talk much about his tattoos, but I knew each one had a special meaning behind it. He didn’t mindlessly ink himself.

And he’d put me there. Me.

I’d have to decide where to get mine. I hadn’t been kidding about that. I wanted one just like his. Maybe on my wrist? Oh, God. Dad would flip. I might be braver and a little bit more rebellious now, but not so much so that I’d go that far. It would have to be in a hidden spot. One Dad wouldn’t have to look at. Maybe my hip?

I didn’t know. All I knew was I needed one.

Just like I needed Finn to come back home to me, as soon as possible. I closed my eyes and for the first time in years…I prayed.

I shifted in the fake leather chair, tapping my foot in a rhythm that even I didn’t recognize. All I knew was the longer I sat here, staring at the receptionist as she typed on her computer, the more impatient I got. If the receptionist sighed and clicked her mouse one more time, I might throw the damn thing out the window.

I’d gotten here at oh-eight-hundred sharp, but when I arrived on base, no one had known what the hell I was doing there. It wasn’t a drill weekend—which I already knew—and no one else had been called in for duty. After a few phone calls, they’d sent me to this office, and I’d been counting fucking sheep in my head ever since.

Oh, and it wasn’t my commanding officer who wanted to see me. It was Captain Richards who wanted me, aka the commanding officer of the whole fucking company. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what he might want. I checked my watch, frowning when I saw it was already noon. How long were they going to leave me here doing shit?

The receptionist sighed and clicked again, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She wore pearls and a gray dress, and those glasses that women seemed to wear when they wanted to look smart. Her red lips were pursed, and she tapped her manicured nails on the mahogany desk.

The inactivity was getting to me. I didn’t do sitting well, and I’d been sitting all damn morning. I was this close to lying on the floor to do a round of push-ups when the office door opened.

Captain Richards stepped out, and I stood at attention, saluting him and waiting for him to speak to me first, staring straight ahead at nothing.

“Sergeant, thank you for coming on your off weekend,” he said.

I didn’t move a muscle. “Good afternoon, sir.”

Captain Richards studied my posture before stepping to the side. “At ease, sergeant. You may come in.”

“Thank you, sir.” I relaxed fractionally and nodded to him as I headed his way. “And I’m more than happy to be at your service.”

Even if I had no clue what that service was.

He followed me in and shut the door behind us, making his way to his desk. “Well, you’re probably wondering what you’re here for.” Captain Richards sat down behind his desk, motioning for me to sit in the wood chair in front of it. “And why I wanted to see you.”

I perched on the edge of the chair, keeping my back straight. “I will admit to a certain level of curiosity, sir.”

“Tell me, sergeant.” Captain Richards rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers. “Do you like being a Marine?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Excellent.” He tapped his fingers together, really slowly. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

Well, if that wasn’t a loaded question I’d never heard one.

A few months ago, before Carrie, I would have had an easy answer. I’d be a Marine, and I’d still be guarding Senator Wallington. But now? It wasn’t so clear-cut. In ten years, I’d hopefully still be with Carrie. Maybe we’d be married? Shit, I didn’t know.

And more importantly? Why the hell did he care?

I cleared my throat. “I would imagine I’ll be working in security, sir. Maybe something to do with computers. I’ve been thinking about getting my degree.”

“What is your MOS now?”

“I’m a mortar man, sir.”

“A grunt.” He arched a brow. “So you want to go from infantry to a commissioned officer? Is that correct?”

“It’s quite possibly my goal, yes, sir.” I shifted in my chair, clutching my knees. “I’ve recently re-evaluated my life, sir, and am in the midst of trying to figure it out.”

“Ah.” His jaw squared off. “What caused this re-evaluation, if I might ask?”

My heartbeat thumped in my ears, louder than drums. “Sir? Why do you ask, if you don’t mind my asking?”

His eyes narrowed on me. He was pulling rank on me. I knew it before he even opened his mouth. “Answer my questions, and maybe I’ll answer yours.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” I cleared my throat, hating the fact that I had to sit here like a puppet while this man interrogated me, but it came with the dog tags. Obedience. Discipline. Respect. “I met a girl, sir.”

“Might I ask this girl’s name?” The captain reclined in his seat and crossed his ankle over his knee. “I do believe I’m acquainted with her father.”

I must’ve blacked out for a second. God knows I felt as if he punched me in the fucking chest. He knew Senator Wallington? Well, there you go. Now I knew why I was here. Her father knew and sent me into a situation where I couldn’t possibly lie.

God damn it.

I tried to remain calm on the outside, even if I was flipping the fuck out on the inside. “You know the Wallingtons, sir?”

“I do. Carrie is a sweet girl.” He looked out the window for a second, then turned those piercing brown eyes back on me. “I’ve known her since she was in diapers.”

I nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“You’re probably curious how I know.”

I shifted on the seat. “Yes, sir.”

“Her father asked me to track you. To make sure you were doing your job.” Captain Richards eyed me. “Do you feel you’re doing a good job, sergeant?”

“I feel she wouldn’t be safer with anyone else watching her, sir.” I met his eyes, refusing to flinch or back down. “I would guard her with my life.”

“Would you do that even if you didn’t love her?”

“Yes, sir.” I tapped my fingers on my knees, but made myself stop. “It’s my job. I take that responsibility very seriously.”

“So if you were to guard another young woman, one whom you didn’t love, you would still guard her to the best of your abilities?”

I blinked at him. “Yes, sir. I would.”

“I heard about what you did when Carrie was almost robbed. Those were some impressive moves.”

My cheeks heated up. “I was simply doing my job, sir.”

“My man came home right afterward to tell me how impressed he was.” Captain Richards raised his brow. “Keep in mind, he’s a black belt in karate, among other things.”

I bit down on my tongue, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this. “I’m flattered, sir.”

“Does her father know you love her?”

I swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

“Why not?”

“We’re waiting, sir.” I gripped my knees even tighter. “My father is about to retire, and Carrie and I decided to hold off until after the fact.”

“Ah.” He nodded, his lips pursed in thought. “You’re afraid he will withhold funds from your father?”