This came as a shock. Danny hadn’t paid her a cent since he’d signed the divorce papers and skipped town. I didn’t even think she knew where he lived.
“Really?” I asked.
“Back pay included,” she said. “It’s enough for the down payment on a house. Not a huge house, but still.”
I knew Amy had wanted a house. Somewhere that had a yard where she could put up a swing set for Paisley. I beamed at her, but my smile faded.
“You think Alec has something to do with it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I probably don’t want to know. Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him about it today. Felt like I would jinx it or something.”
I remembered the picnic at the beginning of summer when it had been revealed that Amy’s ex-husband had hit her. Alec has casually asked for his name, and though I hadn’t given it, he’d seemed convinced he could find it anyway.
I felt a surge of affection for him, feeling, like Amy did, that Alec’s good will and the timing of this check were oddly coincidental.
“He’s a good man,” I said. “That doesn’t mean he still loves me.”
She stood and walked to the punching bag, giving it a firm enough push that the chain creaked as it swung in a slow pendulum.
“When you were missing he refused to rest until you were found,” she said. “He and your dad practically headed the Find Anna Task Force. Mike said he took the breakup hard, too. Drinking a lot, refusing to see anybody. Well, anybody until Janelle.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me, as if searching for some response, and I tore my thoughts away from the empty bottles I’d seen in his apartment. When I said nothing, she continued.
“Plus, Mike told me he’s been getting death threats. He kept telling the FBI to keep an eye on you, but they didn’t have proof you’d be involved. I guess he thought they’d use you to hurt him.”
Hence Janelle becoming his fake public girlfriend. There was a tightness growing in my chest, but I didn’t want her to stop. Alec was receiving death threats? From Maxim? I wanted to pull him right out of his Davis Island fortress and kick his ass. Just like I wanted to kick Alec’s ass, and Amy’s, too, for not telling me.
“Alec thinks your disappearance is connected to the trial. When the FBI wouldn’t put you back in protective custody, he asked us to look out for you.”
I remembered the papers that had been sitting out on the coffee table when I’d first arrived here. My work schedule. Amy’s and my father’s phone numbers. Even Marcos had said Alec had called him and asked that he look out for me. I thought of all the dinner invitations from Mike and Amy, and my dad staying on my couch, and how I’d barely had a second alone up until the night of the fund-raiser.
“He asked you to babysit me?” Everything was becoming clear now. Alec had been there the whole time, watching me from a distance.
“Well, it wasn’t like he had to twist our arms,” she said. “Your dad and I would have done it anyway.”
“My dad was in on this.”
My mind shifted to the phone calls he’d gotten from Terry Benitez. Had they actually been from Alec? My father should have been trying to convince me to head for the hills, but instead he’d left me in the care of the one man he’d once held completely responsible for the danger I’d been put in.
Amy nodded. “He asked your dad to look into the death threats in case there was a connection to you. Something separate from the FBI.”
His PI work. Was he in the Keys now looking into something for Alec?
Annoyance had me rising to my feet. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”
“Alec didn’t . . .” She scrunched her tiny nose. “Alec wanted to respect your decision. He was trying to give you space, I think.”
“While asking everyone else to smother me?”
“Hey,” said Amy firmly. “We smother you because we want to smother you.” She paused. “Look, I’m not trying to say Alec’s a prince or anything. You know I have my reservations.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But he blames himself for everything. If it comes back that this happened to you because of him, he’s never going to forgive himself. Which maybe he shouldn’t. I haven’t quite made up my mind about that yet.” Her brows pulled inward.
It had come back that this was linked to him. The pictures were proof. Maxim Stein was blackmailing Alec, and using me to do it.
And Alec hated himself because of it.
“I never thought you’d be the one standing up for him,” I said.
She flipped open the suitcase. “Well. You love him. And I love you. And he loves you. And I probably love his best friend. So it’s all just one big love cluster fuck, and I figure if I don’t get on board now I’ll miss out on the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to any of us.”
After I untangled that, I laughed, and sniffled, and hugged her again.
“Loving him hurt you,” I said. “Loving him hurt me.”
“Loving you hurt him, too,” she said. “But I doubt he’d say you weren’t worth it.”
I wouldn’t say he wasn’t worth it either.
She patted my arm.
“Now,” she said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like crap.”
She flipped back the lid of her suitcase, revealing the case that held her scissors from the salon, a blow-dryer, nail polish, clothes, and a fishing tackle box filled with makeup.
“Let’s fix you up, okay?”
Nineteen
Sunset found me sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the burner phone in one hand and a business card in the other. It had been hard waving good-bye to Amy as she got in Matt’s car, but not as hard as making this call.
Therapy. Something I hadn’t done since I’d first come to live with my dad and mom. I believed in it, of course, and I supported Amy and Paisley going, but the idea of talking about what had happened to me made me a little sick.
I didn’t want to feel sick. I looked hot. Amy had trimmed my hair, and given me a pedicure, and put me back in clothes that maybe weren’t the most practical for a safe house, but made me feel stronger and prettier all the same.
That was probably why I’d agreed to make this call.
“Remember when you ambushed me with Mike’s self-defense class?” Amy had said. “I want you to set up an appointment with my therapist. Don’t be mad. She’s really nice and can do everything over the phone.”
“Screw it,” I said. Alec wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Matt had lectured me about leaving the premises while he took Amy back to town. My dad was in the Keys, and I was effectively shut off from the rest of the world. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. Might as well rip open some healing wounds.
I dialed the number, expecting just to leave a voice mail, but a woman answered on the third ring.
“Carolyn Singer,” answered a chipper voice.
Perfect. She sounded like she was fourteen. I nearly hung up—not to discredit Amy’s situation, but what would this girl be able to offer me? I was staying in a safe house for God’s sake. I had issues.
But I’d promised Amy I would do this.
“Hi, my name is Anna. You see my friend Amy and her daughter, Pais—”
“Anna, I’m so glad you called,” said Carolyn. “I’ve got some time right now, want to chat?”
Shit. “Um. Sure.”
“Great. Well let me start by saying everything you tell me is confidential, with two exceptions.”
“If I have an imminent plan to harm myself or someone else,” I said.
“That’s right. Therapist?”
“Social worker,” I said. “In the past.”
“So you know how this works.” She was more direct than I’d thought she’d be, but her voice was still kind. I tried to picture what she mig
ht look like. Young. Cute. Blond. With a name like Carolyn she had to be blond.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “You’re trying to analyze my voice, aren’t you?”
My lips tilted up.
“I can always tell,” she said. “I don’t blame you. I do the same thing when I’m put on hold with the credit card company. Who is this person I’m talking to? What do they know about me? Do they look more like Cher or Dennis Rodman?”
“Or Britney Spears,” I admitted.
“Ooh,” she said. “Good one. So what do you want to talk about, Anna?”
I pulled on a string from the cutoff shorts Amy had brought for me.
“I guess Amy probably told you about my . . . situation . . .”
“Why don’t you tell me?” She paused. “Actually, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind right now? We can unravel from there.”
Okay, this girl was all right. And maybe it was because she was on the phone and I didn’t have to look her in the eye, or because everything I was feeling was so confusing and contradictory, but I decided to tell her. I took a deep breath and jumped in.
“Do you think it’s weird to still want someone after being kidnapped, and drugged, and knowing that you were . . . violated, even if you weren’t raped?”
I clutched my stomach, feeling it turn just to say the words out loud.
“I don’t know,” she said, not missing a beat. “Do you think it’s weird?”
“No,” I said. “I still feel like me.”
“Then what makes you wonder?”
“I think he might think it’s strange.”
“Ah,” she said. “There’s a he.”
“There is.” Maybe it was confidential, but I wasn’t going to say his name. “We kind of have a wild history, but he’s the one who found me and took me to the hospital. I’m staying with him now.”
“And you want him.”
“Yes.” I breathed the word. Admitting this felt like letting go. Like relief.
“Are you two intimate?”
I crossed my legs. Uncrossed them.
“Yes. No. We get close, and then he backs off.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Not great,” I mumbled. “Sometimes it feels like things are normal again. Other times it’s like he can barely look at me.”
“And that hurts,” she inferred. “What do you mean when you say ‘normal again’?”
I gave a short laugh. “I guess we don’t really have a baseline. But in the past I’ve never had to wonder if he wanted me.”
“And now you do.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. He did want me, I could see it in his eyes and feel it in his body, but something was different. We were different. Maxim had made sure of that.
I guess when I’d told him good-bye, I had made sure of that, too.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s say he walked in right now and things started to heat up. What do you think you’d be feeling?”
I felt the blush creep up my neck.
“Excitement,” I said. I could feel his hands on my body, sliding beneath my thighs to pull me closer. “Need. Safety. He had this way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world.”
“That’s good,” she said, and I could hear a shuffle sound in the background as she moved. “When I was a kid I used to ride horses. I competed in equestrian events—hunter/jumper, things like that.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, unsure where this was going.
“Then I fell off. Lost my seat, as it’s called. So pretentious.” She chuckled. “Anyway, it was nasty. My horse rolled on me and broke my leg. She was skittish after that, and even when I was better, I never got back on. Not, at least, until about six months ago. Back in that saddle . . . Anna, it’s better than I remember. Like flying. But it also scares the hell out of me because I still remember exactly what it feels like to fall.”
Her meaning struck home with a pang to my heart.
“So things start to heat up between you two,” she said again. “What are you feeling?”
“Scared,” I said. “Scared that it’s not the same. That he doesn’t feel the same, and that it’s short-lived just like before and he’ll be gone again.” I tilted forward, until my elbows were on my knees. “Scared that I won’t be able to push aside the things that happened to me and they’ll be right there between us.”
My breath came out in a whoosh. I could hardly admit those things to myself. I couldn’t believe I was telling her now.
“Sure,” she said. “It makes sense to have those fears. Those are normal for any couple, but they’re probably magnified with you, given all that you’ve been through.”
“I keep telling myself that things will be the same.”
But things couldn’t be the same.
“Maybe it’s a good thing that they’re not,” she said. “Same scenario. Things are getting hot. What do you think he’d be feeling?”
You have no idea how hard it is not to act on every fucking urge that rises up every time I look at you.
“Torn,” I said, scowling. “I think he’d feel torn.”
“In what way?”
“I think . . . I think he wants me, but is scared to act on it.”
“Why?”
I closed my eyes.
If it comes back that this happened to you because of him, he’s never going to forgive himself.
“Because he blames himself for what happened to me.”
Carolyn was silent while I gathered my thoughts.
“It’s not his fault,” I said. I had to have told him that before. He had to know that.
“In my experience, it doesn’t matter if it is or it isn’t,” she said. “If he believes it is, that’s his truth, and it will continue to be until he learns differently.”
I stared at the wall before me, feeling boxed in. Wondering if he felt boxed in, like he couldn’t do the right thing, couldn’t get away from Maxim Stein, no matter what he tried.
“Can I call you again sometime?” I asked.
“Sure.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’d love that.”
* * *
I’d promised Matt that I’d stay inside, but after talking to Carolyn I’d wandered around the apartment like a hamster in a cage, and finally decided to go for a walk. I held on to the burner phone just in case and crept quietly down the stairs to the beach just beyond the driveway. There, I kicked off my sandals and walked toward the water, to the place where Alec and I had been before.
Again, the beach was empty, but it was darker tonight on account of the cloud cover over the moon. The wet sand crunched beneath every step, and the air felt heavy and electric, like a storm was coming. My skin was misted by the time I reached the water.
Everything Amy had told me about Alec mashed together with Carolyn’s words and my own experiences. He’d arranged for my safety, even while giving me space. He’d stayed away because he thought he was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. He’d made everyone, including myself, believe he was seeing another woman, just to draw the danger away from me.
Everything he did came back to me.
And yet he thought he was undeserving. That was his truth.
If the circumstances had been different, I didn’t know if Alec and I would be together, but I knew we wouldn’t have met. Maybe this path was one we were destined for, our histories had made us both strong enough to take it. And maybe it had stretched us thin because in the end, we were supposed to rely on each other to get through.
Or maybe we were always going to crash and burn.
It didn’t surprise me when I heard his voice; I’d been hearing it all day. What surprised me was when he appeared from out of the shadows, like my own thoughts had conjured him.
He was wearing the same clothes
he’d left in this morning—a casual T-shirt that somehow managed to fit him perfectly, and jeans that only hinted at the slender muscles of his long legs—and as he jogged toward me I could see the urgency in his stride.
“Anna!” he said. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
I tensed, ready for bad news, and moved quickly to meet him.
“Just walking,” I said. “Is everything okay? You’re back early.”
We stopped a foot apart, and even in the dark I could see the glisten of his skin from the humidity, and the shape of his lips. The pull was immediate and undeniable. Just being close to him sent a sharp ache echoing through my body.
He shoved his hair back with one impatient rake of his hand.
“You shouldn’t be out here. Matt thought you were still in the apartment. I sent him home to get some sleep before I even came upstairs. You left all your things . . . I thought maybe . . .”
I gave him a small smirk. “Are you worried about me, Alec?”
“You’re damn right I’m worried.”
I reached to touch his chest, feeling him stiffen beneath my hand.
“I’m all right,” I said. “What happened? Where’s Janelle?”
He looked down at me, eyes growing wary. I hated the way his brows drew together. The way he seemed to question himself when I reached for him.
It was time to change that.
“She’s . . .” He stared at my mouth.
I stepped closer, so that my toes were touching his sandy shoes. His chest moved faster.
“Alec?”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Something was shifting between us again. Another change that would shake our very foundation. I didn’t know what would happen, but I could feel it coming. In the distance, thunder rumbled.
“I had to see you,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
A gentle wave reached my feet, making me sink an inch in the wet sand. He didn’t seem to notice the water, even as it lapped over the side of his shoe. He reached for my hair, running his fingers through the length to my waist, where his knuckle rubbed up the side of my white tank top. Heat spread from that spot, tingling through my core.
The Confession Page 16
