We are US... (I am HER... Book 3)

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We are US... (I am HER... Book 3) Page 30

by Sarah Ann Walker


  Inhaling deeply, I try to say the words, but they just won't come out.

  "Suzanne, please?" Looking at Z looking at me with such concern I know this won't be good, but I just need like a day or 2.

  "Do you trust me?" I ask knowing the answer.

  "Implicitly. Completely. Totally. Do you trust me?" He counters with his calm, be reasonable for Suzanne voice, and I almost giggle. Shit.

  "Will you trust me to talk to you tomorrow night?"

  "What?" He asks like what I just said is tantamount to murder or something which makes me laugh because my nerves are totally shot.

  "I need you to trust me tonight, and I promise to tell you everything tomorrow. I was going to tell you tomorrow before you burst in here like a friggin' bull. And I will tell you tomorrow night. I just ask that you give me one more day."

  "Is this why you're going to Chicago?" Pausing, the fact that Z knows my travel plans does surprise me a little. I thought I had it all figured out and I thought I hid everything from him this time. But again, he always seems to know everything.

  "How did you know about Chicago?" I ask feeling both surprised and a little irritated.

  "Tony called to ask if I was joining you and if we'd be staying overnight."

  "Oh..." Huh. A stupid Suzanne move. I didn't want to cab it to the airport, but I didn't think the driving service would actually call Z. Why would they call Z? "Do they always call you when I book them?" I ask as suspicion inches down my spine. Watching Z, I realize he looks guilty suddenly and I have my answer. Wow, it never occurred to me. "Okay. Why do they call you?"

  "Because I like to know where you go," he says like he's not a psycho, which really, he kind of is. New topic for Mack on Thursday? I'm thinking yes.

  "So you always know where I go when I use them?" I think he finally senses my shock and he wants to fix it. But honestly, I'm not sure he can. "Because you don't trust me?" I squeak.

  "Never that. I trust you totally. I just don't trust other people anymore with you. After learning about what your mother attempted to do to you, and about the driver, and the letters you still get, and... I just want to make sure you're okay. That's all. I don't give a shit where you go, or with whom. But it makes me feel better if I know where the drivers take you."

  "Why? No one wants to hurt me I don't think." Do they? Well, the creepy letters suggest otherwise, but I’ve always received them.

  "The fact that people still find your email addresses somehow, or make it through our mail, or find our unlisted number way too often concerns me, and it always will, Suzanne. So yes, I ask the driving service to let me know where you go so I feel a little better about your safety. That's all it is, I promise." Leaning away from me, I find I feel bothered and irritated by Z hiding this.

  "You didn't tell me. And I thought we were telling each other everything now."

  "We are. This is nothing."

  Standing to walk into our room, I feel Z following me. I don't even need to look behind me because I feel his presence right against me. "It's something," I mumble.

  "Okay. Then why are you going to Chicago, and why didn't you tell me?" He counters and he's absolutely got me. I'm screwed actually. I was keeping a secret, and I did know he'd lose his shit if he knew about it beforehand. So now I either tell him and we fight, or I don't tell him and I'm a hypocrite. Shit. "Well played, Z."

  "I'm not playing, love. You asked a question and I answered honestly. I've also asked a question, and you're evading. So why not just tell me and I'll let it go."

  "Because we're about to have a huge fight if I tell you. And we haven't fought since I got out of the hospital, and I don't want to fight."

  Exhaling as he leans against my dresser with his arms crossed on his bare chest, I know I’ve lost. Raising his eyebrow, I also know I'm screwed. Now he won't let this go, and inevitably, he won't let me go.

  "I'll wait forever, Suzanne. You may be stubborn, but so am I. And I have nowhere to go tomorrow, but apparently you do. So you may as well tell me what's going on," he says with a smug smile. The bastard.

  I. Am. So. Screwed. "Um..." Shit, he's gonna lose it, and I actually fear this one a little. Not him of course, but I fear how big this fight is going to be and how big it's going to get between us.

  "Just say it, love," he pushes again in his soothing voice but it doesn't work. I'm not soothed, and I don't want to talk.

  "Tomorrow night-"

  "Now."

  "No, I promise to tell you everything tomorrow."

  "You won't be going to Chicago without me if you don't tell me, so you may as well tell me now."

  "I won't be going to Chicago if I do tell you," I say defeated.

  "I'm not a control freak, Suzanne. Of course you can go wherever you want. Chicago included. I just want to know why you're going to Chicago."

  "To visit my mother," I whisper and after Z jumps against my dresser actually rattling my Jewelry box, he doesn't move again. There is nothing in our room but Z silently still with me watching. I don't even think he's breathing, he’s so still.

  Speaking, I barely hear his words, but I feel them. "No. Fucking. Way."

  Shaking his head as if to clear it, he stares at me like I'm insane again, which I'm not at all actually. "No. Fucking. Way," he says again just above a whisper, but I know better than to try right now. He's in shock, or pissed, or just stunned maybe. I don't know, but I do know as he tries to process what I said, it's best to give him a moment.

  Waiting out the silence, I sit slowly on our bed and just watch him. From his suddenly pumping chest, to his constant head shakes, I think this one is pretty big between us. I think this is maybe the biggest yet, at least when I’m rational, which maybe he needs to know.

  "I'm sane, Z. This-"

  "No, you're not!" He yells so loudly, I flinch. Shiiiiiit.

  "I am. I swear! Look, she sent me a letter," I yell jumping to run for the atrium quickly. Ripping open a drawer, it comes right off the track into my hand so I just drop it to run back to a still fuming, breathing hard, looking somewhat pale Z. "Here. Read it, Z. Then maybe you’ll understand."

  "Never," he breathes on almost a gasp.

  "But-"

  "Fucking never, Suzanne. I will never read anything that fucking bitch has to say. I don't understand what she's doing, but I do know you are NOT seeing her. Period." Oh, really? Well, this isn't going well, I almost laugh. "You are never seeing her again. I’ll fucking-"

  "What?" I yell standing in front of him suddenly. "What will you do? Forbid me? Ground me?"

  "If I have to," he growls like an asshole.

  "Piss off! You can't forbid me, Z. I'm not a child, and I won't be told what I can and can't do by anyone. Not even by you!" I yell stepping closer to him.

  "Yes, you-"

  "Never again, Z. By no one. So you can shove that alpha, dominant bullshit right up your ass for all I care. But I'm going whether you like it or not!"

  Grabbing my upper arms Z scares me for a second, growling in my face as he continues. "You are not going to see that bitch. And if I have to call Mack, or lock you up again I will."

  "What?" Gasping, I fight his hold as he releases me immediately. Pulling at his own hair he growls again, and if I wasn't so shocked by his threat I might care that he looks so messed up suddenly. But I don't care.

  "I can't believe you just threatened me with that because I won't obey you," I spit at him as I turn to leave our room.

  "Suzanne!" He yells again as he steps up to me to stop my retreat.

  "DON'T touch me!" I scream in his face making him flinch before I run for our bathroom.

  Slamming and locking the door I'm just stunned. I mean, I knew- I knew he'd be pissed and scared and maybe even slightly irrational. But to threaten to lock me up because I won't do as he says? That is way beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined.

  "Suzanne... Please come talk to me," he says through the door but I'm not doing it. He's pissed? Well, screw him. I'm more than piss
ed. I'm hurt and shocked, and just wow. What a dick! "Suzanne, please? Just talk to me," he tries again.

  "Not on your life," I growl back. "Go away. I'm not talking to you tonight, or tomorrow, or for a long goddamn time, Z. So go away!" I yell banging my hand against the door.

  "I'm sorry, Suzanne. I didn't mean to say that to you. I was just shocked and I reacted like an asshole. I really don't want you to see that woman. And I don't understand what you’re doing this time," he mumbles through the door still.

  Shit, even though I'm reeling with my own anger and shock at his threat, I feel myself thawing a little as his desperation to talk to me climbs. "Can you talk to me? Please?"

  "No."

  "Please, love? I won't yell anymore, I promise. I just don't understand why you would even entertain seeing her. Could you please explain it to me? Because I really can't understand why you would do this, or want to, or even think about doing this. This makes NO sense to me after everything she put you through. And after how far you've come, and how happy you seem, I don't understand why you would hurt yourself this way. I can’t see what you’d gain from this because I see nothing. She's a fucking psycho who tortured you and nearly broke you and she's just-"

  "My mother," I whisper through the door.

  Sliding down the door, my head bangs against it as I raise my knees to my chest. "Good or bad, Z, she IS my mother. And I want to know why or how she did what she did to me. I don't think I’ll get answers, but I'd like to know if she is willing to talk to me, which she says she is."

  "What does it matter?" He asks quietly and I swear as insane as this is, I feel his hand resting on the door next to my head.

  "It just does. Maybe she'll hurt me one last time, and I can say goodbye finally. Or maybe she'll explain her actions and I can finally say goodbye. Whatever happens though I feel like I need to see her for the last time so I can say goodbye to her and to my past finally."

  "But you have said goodbye."

  "I haven't, Z. I've moved past it certainly, but I haven't said good bye to her or my childhood. It's still there all the time, and I feel like I need a goodbye so I can start my entire future with you."

  "We've started our future. It's all around us, Suzanne. It's everything we do each and every day we’re together. It's right here," he mumbles a little louder like he's desperately trying to make me see his point. And I do see it. I know what he's saying, but he doesn't understand that it’s not over for me yet.

  "We have started, Z. I know that. But I want to have a baby with you one day," I whisper hoping he heard me, but not wanting to repeat it if he didn't. It's too hard, and too intense, and it's just everything left between us unspoken.

  "Open the door, Suzanne. Please..." he pleads, and I can't deny him any longer.

  Reaching up I flick the lock and move just to the side of the door as he turns the knob and slowly enters the bathroom beside me.

  Waiting for something, Z enters fully and slides down the wall staring at me. Bending his legs up with his hands dangling over his knees, Z looks absolutely exhausted suddenly. When he lowers his chin to his chest, I want to go to him but I don't know how.

  "Explain what you're thinking. Make me understand the logic. Because I don't see it, Suzanne."

  "Um, I want to say good bye to her so I can move on. I want to see her as either the demon she is, or as the fucked up mother of my past. Whatever happens though, I need to say goodbye so I can forget she was ever my mother."

  "You'll never forget that no matter what happens tomorrow," he says raising his eyes to look at me.

  "I know. But after I've said my goodbye, I don’t have to think of her as my mother anymore. She can just be the demon of my childhood and youth, so I can be the mother I want to be without her as my example. I feel like she needs to no longer be thought of as a mother, so I don't think of her as the mother I know. Ah, I know it probably doesn't make sense to you, but I swear it does in my head."

  "Come here," Z says opening his arms for me to crawl into. Actually lifting me, Z places me right in his lap with his bent knees holding me up against his chest as I finally exhale.

  "A baby?" He whispers as I nod. My heart rate just spiked and I feel nauseous as hell, but I’m very sure of my decision.

  "Yes. Your baby. But I need to say good bye to her for some reason I can't fully explain. I just know I have to do this, so I can be a good mother."

  Nodding, leaning his head against my forehead he breathes a nearly silent 'okay' as I exhale again.

  "But I can't go with you, and I can’t see what she does to you. Please don't ask me to be a part of this, and please don't resent me for not being able to be a part of this. Because I can’t, Suzanne. I’ll wait at home for you to return, and I’ll help you if you need me when you get home. But I can't do this with you. I won’t do this with you. I hate her, and everything to do with her, and I really hate that you want to willingly put yourself through this."

  "I know you do. And I actually understand where you’re coming from. I didn't want to put you through this with me which is the only reason I didn't tell you before."

  "Okay. So you do this fucked up thing, and I’ll wait for you to return. Should we call Mack?"

  "He knows, and he disagrees with me as well," I smirk as he huffs. "But he also reminded me that he's my speed dial." Which was Mack's way of saying what Z did. They both disagree with my decision, but both will be there for me after I do this stupid thing.

  "So you're leaving at 8?" He questions already knowing the answer.

  "Yes."

  "Okay. One more thing, love, then bed. I really am sorry I threatened you like that. I was just shocked and pissed and I went for a low blow out of desperation. I would never do anything like that to you again. I couldn't, unless you were in serious trouble like before. I'm not a big enough dick to do that to you just because you won't listen to me. That was a shitty thing to say, and I didn't mean it at all. I just freaked out," he explains again staring hard at my eyes until I nod.

  "I know. But please don't ever threaten me like that again. No matter what, okay? Because it makes me not want to trust you, and I always want to trust you."

  "Understood," he nods again. "Will you come to bed with me now? I have a feeling things are going to be bad for you after tomorrow and I want to be with you while you're still happy."

  Ugh. What a shitty thing to say and an even shittier thing to acknowledge because he's probably right. It's like he knows I'm about to freak the hell out and he wants to be with me when I'm still me, for right now anyway.

  "I'm so sorry for this, but I have to go. And somehow I don't think this is going to set me back." When he suddenly looks at me like I'm delusional, I continue. "I really don't, Z. Seeing her one last time feels like exactly what I need to do to make things okay for me and our future."

  "Okay," he says not believing me at all as he lifts me off his lap and moves to stand.

  Taking my hand, Z walks us to bed and crawls in from my side to pull me in with him. He doesn't touch me, or fondle me, or even want me sexually I can tell. He just wants to hold me which though sweet, makes me fear tomorrow even more.

  "Good night, Suzanne. I love you very much," he says sounding scared and I can't stand it.

  "I promise everything will be okay. I promise I won't have a setback, Z. Trust me..." I beg as he nods against my head.

  Quietly, we lay in silence awake. For hours.

  CHAPTER 25

  Walking into the prison, I'm surprised by how many entrances and doors and buzzers I have to go through to see her. I've signed my name and shown ID twice already, and I've even gone through 2 different metal detectors and one body imaging scan. In my nervousness after the scan I almost started laughing thinking of my underwear totally grateful they weren't big granny panties in case the guy could actually see them through the scan.

  Buzzing into another room with a few chairs facing glass, almost like half stalls I realize I'm in the dangerous section where th
ey don't allow visitors to have physical access to the convicts which is good, because I’ll admit, I kept wondering what I would do if she ever reached for me. Actually, I knew what I'd do- I’d freak the fuck out. Thankfully, that's not an option for her though.

  When there's another loud buzz I almost jump out of my seat. Pulling my hair across my face and smoothing down my black pencil skirt in my uncomfortable plastic chair, I'm shaking with my anxiety. This is the first time I've see her in almost 4 years. This is the first time I've been close to her in what feels like a lifetime, which it really is if you consider my life finally started in New York with Z.

  “Suzanne. It’s lovely to see you,” she says sitting down with her nasty voice and I cringe immediately.

  Somehow I forgot how much I hated her soft, deadly voice. I mean I remembered it but not with the same intensity as it is to hear her actual voice in person. Ugh. It's just so scary sounding.

  "Hello..." Mother? Mrs. Beaumont? Shit. I never thought of what I’d actually call her face to face.

  "How’s your husband?" She asks with her fake smile, and I'm jumpy instantly.

  "He's fine. Why?"

  "I was just curious if you were still together?"

  "Why wouldn't we be?" Shit. My heart is pounding already.

  "I was merely curious Suzanne. I was making conversation only."

  "Why am I here?"

  "So we can talk, and maybe get to know each other again."

  "Why?" I ask feeling panic settling deep in my stomach.

  This was a mistake, a huge mistake I know now with certainty. Looking at her smiling at me I find I’m simply waiting for the evil to surface. I can actually feel it coming, but like a car crash I can't seem to look away from her face.

  "Why get to know each other? Well, Suzanne, because I'd like to know what your life is like now. I’d like to know about your husband, and what you're doing with yourself now that you have no financial worries," she says with her scarily calm voice.

  "Financial worries? What does the mean?"

  "It means, darling, that I know you received all my father’s money before he’s even passed, though I do hear that should be any day now," she grins. "I know your father changed his will to give you everything instead of me," she sneers again as I shake my head. "And I know that husband of yours is quite wealthy, so you’ve clearly married very well. Therefore, I know you have no financial worries."

 

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