Unleash Me: Vol. 3

by Christina Ross

  “I killed the devil man,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “The devil man. The one who was behind all of this. The one who was on the sidewalk. I killed him. I shot him from the basement.”

  “That’s the man who was behind all of this?”

  I nodded. “It wasn’t Kevin or Marco.”

  “You told me that. Remember? When you were in the basement?”

  “I can’t remember half of what I said to you.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “So, you killed the devil. He’s dead now.”

  “He is. He’s dead. And after what he did to me, and to so many others, he deserves to be dead.”

  “I’m proud of you,” he said. “And I love you.”

  “I thought I was going to die down there. I thought I wouldn’t see you again, or be with you again. It was horrible, Tank, thinking that I’d be taken away from you.”

  “Not a chance. Not ever.”

  “I feel you,” I said. “And I also love you. I missed you so much. I’m so grateful that you’re here with me now.”

  When he leaned down to kiss me on the forehead, I saw his eyes grow even brighter with tears. My own eyes welled. I smiled at him, squeezed his hand again, and then, overcome with exhaustion, closed my eyes.

  And time passed.

  * * *

  When I woke, my head was clearer.

  I opened my eyes a crack, adjusted to the brightness of the light, and, when I could bear it, looked up at Tank, who still had my hand held firmly in his.

  I pointed at the air mask that covered my nose and mouth. “Do I need this anymore?”

  “Let me ask.”

  Apparently, I didn’t. A female paramedic, who looked to be around my mother’s age, checked my oxygen levels, and then removed the mask. She then cocked her head at me, and said, “I hear you don’t want to see a doctor.”

  “Word.”

  “Word?” she said.

  “Word to the word. And I’ve got other words if you need them.”

  She cracked a smile at that, but quickly suppressed it. “What if we think you should see a doctor?”

  “Aren’t you a doctor?”

  “I’m a paramedic.”

  “Then you’ve already got mad skills.”

  “Not like a doctor.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “I’m not. I’m just being clear with you.”

  “You have a kind face.”

  “Don’t try to butter me up.”

  “No, you do,” I said, meaning it. “It’s nice to see a kind face after these past two days. First Tank’s, and now yours. I’m grateful for it. So, how about this?” I said. “Beyond the smoke inhalation and the fall, is there something else that concerns you about my health?”

  “Without running the proper tests, we don’t know. Apparently, at some point, you took a blow to your head. You could have a concussion.”

  “That happened two days ago,” I said. “And I’m fine.” I glanced around the interior of the ambulance. “Look at this joint—it’s like a mini emergency room. You already know that I’m good to go.”

  She pointed a finger at me. “You’re clever.”

  “You don’t know how clever she is,” Tank said.

  “If what I’ve heard since we got here is true, I think I have a pretty solid idea. Everyone is also saying she’s tough.”

  “She’s earned that badge,” he said.

  “Well?” I said. “Can I go? I want to see my friends. And seriously, I feel fine now. And since I feel fine, I’m kind of demanding that you let me go.”

  “Demanding?”

  “No offense, but if that’s what it takes, then yes.”

  “How about this?” she said. “Let’s make a deal. Let’s get you back on your feet and see how you feel when you’re standing. Then, we’ll decide together if you need to go to the hospital. You fell from a second-story window—something might be broken, likely a rib. You never know.”

  “All right,” I said. “Then let’s do this shit. I want out of here.” I looked at Tank. “Are they still here?”

  He furrowed his brow at me. “Jennifer, Alex, and Blackwell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, of course we’re still here,” I heard Blackwell say. “Do you seriously think we’d just leave you at this point? Give us some credit, you silly, brave, unbelievably resourceful girl. And by the way, once you’re out of that ambulance and on your feet, I expect a hug and a kiss.”

  “Only if you’ll return them.”

  “Oh, I’ll return them,” she said. “And so will Jennifer and Alex.”

  And they did.

  When I stepped out of the ambulance with Tank and the paramedic at my side, I saw my three friends waiting for me at the exit with expectant looks upon their faces. They didn’t rush me—instead, they just watched to see if I could stand on my own and if I was all right.

  Beyond them, I saw the building I’d escaped from. It was still burning and the fire had spread to the buildings on either side of it. Regardless of how irrational it was, the guilt of my actions suddenly took hold. I had caused those fires. I had robbed people of their homes. The moment I shot that car, I ruined so much for so many. More fire trucks had been brought in, and all were pouring water onto the blaze in an effort to put it out. I looked to my right, and saw that the media was here, filming it all from the sidelines.

  I turned to Alex as the paramedic pressed her hands against different parts of my body, obviously looking for a response.

  “Has anyone else been hurt because of me?”

  “Because of you?”

  “I’m the one who shot that car. I’m the one who caused the other one to explode. Those buildings are on fire because of me.”

  “Because you had no choice,” Jennifer said.

  “Maybe.”

  “There are no maybes about it. You did what you had to do.”

  “Everyone got out safely,” Alex said.

  “Are you certain?”

  “He’s right,” the paramedic said. “Everyone was successfully evacuated.”

  I felt a sense of relief, but it was far from total. “I’m glad about that—I am—but everything they hold dear to them has now either been destroyed by fire or by water.” I looked at Alex. “Take the advance you gave me for my books. Give it to these families so they can rebuild their lives—I insist. It’s the least I can do.”

  “The families will be taken care of,” he said.

  “With my money.”

  “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” he asked. “This probably isn’t the best place.” He nodded over at the media.

  “Do they know that it was me who was in that building?” I asked.

  “No, but they will. And there’s nothing I can do about it. It will be filed in police reports, over which I have no control.”

  “Tell me one thing,” I said. “Tell me that my book is still going to be published.”

  “After they sent us that video of you, we stopped publication.”

  “That was just earlier today, and now this is behind us. Certainly we can continue with its publication. It’s only been a matter of hours.”

  He glanced at Tank, and then at Blackwell, but he didn’t answer.

  “If we don’t go forward with its publication, Alex, they will have won. I can’t have that happen. Not after what I just went through. Do you understand that? You’ve got to see that.”

  “She’s right,” Blackwell said. “We can start the presses again and fast-track her book to make up for lost time. No formal announcement has been made that we were delaying her book. There’s no need for those bastards to steal away her dreams. I say we publish it.”

  “If we publish her book after all of this becomes public, my only concern is whether she’ll be able to stand up to the amount of attention that’s going to come her way.” Alex looked straight at me. “My first thought is you, OK? Not holding you or your book hostage, but doing right
by you. I need to know for sure that you can handle the full weight of what’s about to hit you before we go forward.”

  “Does that hurt?” the paramedic asked when she touched my ribs.

  The sound of her voice surprised me. I was so involved in my conversation with Alex, I hadn’t been paying attention to what she was doing to me. “No,” I said.

  “Are you dizzy?”

  “Not at all.”

  “How does your chest feel?”

  “A hell of a lot better than it did before, but I wouldn’t mind some water.”

  “Let me get you some.”

  She left my side, and that’s when Blackwell came forward and embraced me as gently as she could. In my ear, she said, “My poor, sweet girl. None of this should have happened to you. We’ve all been out of our minds with worry. Thank God you’re all right.”

  When we parted, Jennifer came forward, and it was then that I began to cry. My best friend meant the world to me. We’d come to Manhattan to win, and both of us had almost lost. I felt her begin to sob against my shoulder. I stroked her hair and told her that I loved her, a sentiment she immediately returned.

  “I’ve been a wreck,” she said.

  “Have you seen me? Look at me. This is a wreck.”

  When she pulled away from me and kissed me on the cheek, tears were steaming down her face. I had to lighten the mood. And though I wasn’t very convincing, I wanted her to know that everything would be fine. “It’s all behind us now,” I said, looking at Alex. “Now, let me give your fiancé a hug. He deserves one.” When Alex came over to me, I fell into his arms, and we held each other tightly. I knew that because of him, resources I never would have had behind me were put into place to save me from this.

  “Thank you,” I said in his ear. “Thank you so much.”

  “We all love you, Lisa,” he said.

  I parted from him and looked him straight in the eye. “I appreciate that, but words are cheap—it’s action that says it all. Just from knowing you, I know how much you were involved in helping me to get out of this. I know that you were at Tank’s side, green-lighting whatever he wanted. I know that you spared no expense when it came to saving me. That’s just how you are, Alex. You’re one of the good ones. So, thank you for helping me. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for backing Tank, Blackwell, and Jennifer and all the demands I know they threw your way because of their love for me. That couldn’t have been easy. I know it couldn’t have been. So, thank you for believing that I could even get out of this alive.” I looked around me and felt my breath catch as the full weight that I was free crashed down upon me. I looked at them all with a deep sense of humility.

  “I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” I said. “That you’re here for me, in the middle of the night, says everything. I hope you know that I love you all.”

  When the paramedic came back with my water, I tipped it back and swallowed it down. My throat immediately felt better. “You’re an angel,” I said to her. “And by the way, you remind me of my mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  “That’s right. My mom.”

  “Sweetie, I’m black. You’re so white, you look as if you’re from Sweden.”

  “So what? Since when does kindness have anything to do with race? You’ve cared for me like my mother would have—well, like she would if she had your training, which she doesn’t. But her heart would have been there, just as yours was.” I leaned forward and hugged her hard so she could feel my strength—I wanted her to know that, not only was I fine to go, but that she had done her job. “Thank you for taking care of me,” I said.

  “It was my pleasure, Lisa.”

  “Am I free to go?”

  She smirked at me. “Your mother would want you to see a doctor.”

  “I promise I will if I don’t feel well tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Actually, I do promise. And I mean that. I’m not about to put my life at risk because of those freaks. Not after that. It’s a miracle that I’m here. But I do feel fine. If I didn’t, I’d tell you so. I want to get beyond this. At the very least, I need to get to a dentist ASAP so they can fit me with a new tooth.”

  “Then give your fake mama a hug, sweetie,” she said, enveloping me with her heavy arms. “I’ve been listening to what the police are saying. At this point, I have a good idea of what you’ve been through, and I know that it’s been nothing short of hell. You’ve experienced wrongs that no one deserves, and somehow, you fought through it. You struggled against evil—that’s what you did. You fought against it, and you took it down. So, hug me back. That’s right. Hug me harder. That’s good. I can feel the fight within you—I can feel the life within you. And if I was your mama? If I had a child like you? It would make me so proud, I’d probably weep.”

  It was at that moment that Tank’s hand pressed against my back, Alex came forward to give me a lingering kiss on my forehead, and I heard Jennifer burst into tears, followed unexpectedly by tears from Blackwell herself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Six Weeks Later

  On the day that Jennifer and I had planned to meet for lunch, I woke feeling peppered with a host of feelings—sadness, excitement, and apparently every other emotion that swung between them. This was a pivotal day for us, one that we’d never forget if we agreed upon what I already knew was inevitable.

  But it had come. It was here. And it was time to face it and deal with it.

  While Tank slept in, I rose early to get a head start on the day. The sun was shining through Tank’s tall apartment windows, and Manhattan was leaning hard into the throes of an early spring. The weather was supposed to be in the low seventies, which was unusually warm for early March, so I took it. At this point, I was more than ready to let go of winter and every rotten thing that had come with it.

  That process began today.

  When Tank rose at nine, which was late for him, I was on the living room floor lying on my stomach in a yoga position that worked to ease the tension in my back. I stood when he stepped into the room, wiped the sweat off my brow, and crossed the room to greet him.

  “After ninety minutes of that, I’m a sweaty mess,” I said. “But I’d still like a kiss.”

  He looked curiously at me, but then bent down and kissed me meaningfully on the lips. I caught the look and absorbed it with a smile, knowing where it came from. After a great deal of thought, I was charged with resolve to get my life back on track. He likely could feel the energy coming off me in waves because I finally was at a place to make that happen. Since you couldn’t get a thing past Tank, on some level, he also could feel it.

  And why not? The six weeks following my abduction had been more difficult than I’d imagined. I hadn’t been myself. I didn’t rebound as quickly as I thought I would. In fact, if anything, for weeks I had felt like a shell of my former self. Ironically, there was a long stretch of time when I felt like one of my zombie characters—like a dead woman trying to reclaim her life.

  And I’m reclaiming it now.

  “Coffee?” I asked him.

  “I can make it, honey. Do your yoga thing.”

  “I’m good—that workout just kicked my ass. Have a seat at the bar, open the paper, and let me make you a fresh pot.”

  He furrowed his brow at me, but I ignored it. I patted him on his bare chest and walked into the kitchen that now felt like my own kitchen. On the night of the fire, Tank took me home to his apartment because we both thought that I’d feel safer with him, particularly at night, though that didn’t go as expected.

  During my first week with him, I started to have nightmares that were so bad I woke myself screaming in the middle of the night. With each nightmare that hit, Tank tried to console me until we both came to the conclusion that I needed to seek professional help. When we shared what was happening to me with Blackwell and Jennifer, they urged me to see a psychiatrist, one who Blackwell promised was among the city’s best.

  “She’s terri
fic,” Blackwell had said. “I saw her when I was going through my divorce with Charles, and she helped me. She’s usually booked for months, but since I know her, I can call her. She’s a good person. I’m sure she’d be willing to see you straight away.”

  How could I have said no? My behavior was affecting all of my relationships, especially with Tank. For whatever reason, I wasn’t able to be intimate with him, which was something I had to fix—and soon.

  When I went to see the doctor, we talked for an hour, and her diagnosis was that I suffered from posttraumatic stress disorder—or PTSD. She prescribed me an anti-depressant to lift my mood and Xanax to help me handle my anxiety. Over time, the pills began to work, but when I was first prescribed them, I wasn’t sure how long I’d have to take them. Or how long it would take before I was back to feeling like myself.

  I was still working on that, but the good news was that each day was becoming easier for me. And one day soon, I was confident that I’d be off the drugs all together.

  “Here,” I said, putting the cup of coffee in front of him. “There’s more in the pot if you want it.”

  He thanked me, and opened the Times. “Today’s the day you meet Jennifer for lunch, isn’t it?”

  “At noon.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the Met.”

  “The Met?”

  “They have a members-only dining room there. It’s actually very good. We thought we’d have a light lunch and a glass of wine, and take in a few exhibits. It’s been so long since we’ve done anything alone together. We might even get in a little girl talk, which never hurts anything.”

  “I’m glad you’re going out,” he said. “It’s supposed to be a great day.” He hesitated for a moment, and then said, “If you’re up for it, how about if you and I have dinner tonight?”

  “Dinner out?”

  “Unless you don’t want to. And it’s fine if you don’t want to. I understand if you aren’t ready for that.”

  “No, no. I’d love to go out.”