BEAST: A Bad Boy Marine Romance
Page 25
“That’s impossible. And I doubt Chris has stayed faithful all these years. I’m sure he has a ton of girls. I’m not the same person I was when I left. No one has ever done anything for me like you have. I need you. I won’t be able to forget you.”
“Well, you’re going to have to. I’m not the man you think I am.”
Vic pulled the car around with Kyle in the passenger seat.
I opened the door for her and she squeezed inside, Gabriel sitting next to her in Vic’s daughter’s car seat. I sat next to Annie and held her hand. I didn’t want to be a dick to her; I just didn’t want to give her any hope there was a future for us. Because there wasn’t.
As we drove away from the Navy base, my home, I looked out back at the yacht. I swallowed hard. After months of Annie consuming my thoughts, our time together was coming to an end.
Vic drove up the I-5 North. Annie was looking out the window at the coast.
“I never thought I’d see San Diego again.” Annie had chills on her arms, and I put my arm around her to comfort her.
We exited in Encinitas, and Vic drove down to a street full of beachfront mansions. I knew she was loaded, but this place was ridiculous. Vic parked up the street from her house, and I helped her and Gabriel out of the car. Vic and Kyle both emerged to say good-bye.
“Thank you both for everything. I hope I’ll see you guys again.”
Vic gave her a hug. “Good luck, Annie.”
Kyle also embraced her. “Of course we’ll see you again. You’re Pat’s girl. I’m counting on hooking up with all your hottie friends.”
Her mouth spread into a smile. “They’ll love you.”
I leveled Kyle with my eyes. I’d deal with him later.
“You guys stay here. I’ll take her inside.”
We walked up to the gate of her house, Annie holding on to my arm, Gabriel clutching my leg.
I bent over and gave Gabriel a hug. “Bye, little man. Take care of your mama for me.”
He latched onto my neck, and I almost welled up with tears. “Bye, Pat.”
I turned to Annie, her hair blowing in the ocean air. Would this be the last time I ever saw her? “Good-bye, Annie.”
“Can’t you come inside with me? Just for a bit?” I could feel Annie shake.
There couldn’t be any ambiguity. I had to cut the ties. “No. You need to go by yourself. I’m not coming with you.”
“But I need you. Please, I’m sure the Navy would give you leave? My daddy could get you a job and—”
My chest tightened. I fucking hated myself for being such an asshole. I didn’t have a choice—no one could find out about our involvement in her rescue. We’d gone over the cover story a bunch of times—Dave rescued her and sailed her home. I had to end this. For her. For me. For Gabriel. We both had to move on.
“Stop. We’re not going to do this.” My head pounded. I had to get it over with. Set her free so she could move on. “This is it, Annie. It’s over. I can’t ever see you again. I rescued you, and detoxed you. The job is done. This is done. I don’t owe you anything. Just let it go.”
Tears fell down her face and she let out a whimper.
I nudged Annie toward the gate, which she opened, then walked up to the front steps. Annie looked back at me, I nodded, and she rang the doorbell. Annie’s mom, who I recognized from the pictures, opened the door, and let out a scream. She hugged Annie, Gabriel still standing by her side. I gave a final glance back and could see Annie’s father appear at the door. Annie was safe. I’d done my job and completed my mission. It was time to get back to my men.
I raced up the street, jumped into Vic’s SUV. “Go.”
Vic sped away.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I could’ve kissed her good-bye, told her it was going to be okay, and that I cared about her.
“You okay?” Vic offered.
“Yup. Never better,” I lied.
I wondered what Annie was doing at that moment. Would her parents accept Gabriel? Like an investigative news reporter, I wanted to know every detail. But that was her story. My involvement in her life was over. Now it was time for me to get back to my life. I’d done my job, earned my trident.
The only easy day was yesterday.
22
Patrick
I WAS BACK ON THE USS Reagan, crammed next to my smelly men. In the week since I’d left Annie at her home, I’d thrown myself into work. Now, we were on our way to our next mission. During my week off, I completely unplugged: no phone, no Facebook, no internet. I hung out with my dog, went to a barbecue at Vic’s house, and caught up on some movies. Normally, I’d log onto the computer every night, but I’d been avoiding the internet until now. Kyle and Vic had told me Annie’s story had been all over the news, but I told them I didn’t want to hear the details. One look at her in a news conference and I’d be stopping by her house to make sure she was okay.
Safely on the ship, I finally signed in once everyone else had dispersed so I could be alone. Against my better judgment, I googled her name.
“Missing American Analía ‘Annie’ Rose Hamilton Found Alive.”
I scanned the article and nothing could’ve prepared me for what I read.
“Hamilton walked into her home in Encinitas, California. She has told authorities she ran away from the resort after a fight with her boyfriend and has been living in Aruba for the past five years under an assumed name as a missionary. She recently decided to return home and chartered a boat to San Diego.”
What the fuck? No mention of being kidnapped, no mention of the brothel, no mention of Gabriel?
I took a deep breath and tried to come up with a reason, any reason, why Annie and her family would lie.
I found a video of a press conference on YouTube. It was a fucking circus: Annie, her parents, her boyfriend Chris, the police, lawyers, and the press. But again, no Gabriel. Where was he?
Annie didn’t speak. She stood at the podium in a fitted, white suit, clutching the cheap necklace I’d given her.
Was she trying to send me a signal?
Her parents read from a prepared statement.
“We are so ecstatic to be reunited with our darling Annie. She is a testament to our faith in the Lord. Though we missed her all these years, we feel solace knowing she was doing God’s work. To all the families with missing children out there, never give up hope. We ask for our privacy at this time as we rebuild our family.”
Faith in the Lord? The Lord didn’t find her, I did. I wasn’t an atheist. I believed in God, I’d been raised Catholic. I hated the acceptance that everything which happened was part of God’s plan. Was it God’s plan for Annie to be kidnapped, forced to take drugs, and be raped every day?
Her boyfriend held her hand. I closed the website.
I found Kyle and Vic in the television lounge.
Kyle took one look at my face and grimaced. “So, you finally heard about Annie?”
“I don’t understand why they’d lie. Where’s Gabriel?”
Vic stood up. “She said her parents were pretentious assholes. What don’t you get? They probably want to shield them from becoming tabloid superstars. ‘Kidnapped sex slave and her son, fathered by her pimp, born in a brothel.’ This is probably their way of protecting her.”
I shook my head. “But they’re lying. Like it or not, the dancer was his dad.”
Kyle put his hand on my shoulders. “Pat, it’s over. Just like you wanted. She kept our names out of the press. I’m sure Gabriel is fine. This way Annie can heal, get the help she needs to recover, without the media stalking her and her son. Knowing her awful story doesn’t help anyone. Not her, not Gabriel. I talked to Dave—her parents gave him half of the reward, covered all of his expenses and then some, and he agreed to go along with their story.”
I nodded my head. My gut told me something was wrong. Wrong with her family. Annie told me over and over that she was worried they wouldn’t accept Gabriel. Had she been right? Were they embarrassed by him?
Was this their way of trying to get Annie to detach from her child? Gabriel was such a cool, sweet boy. I hoped his grandparents were treating him right.
Six more months. Six more months and I’d be back in sunny San Diego. Less than twenty miles away from Annie. I’d told her I’d never wanted to see her again. I wasn’t sure I’d meant it. For now, I had to focus on my next mission, get her crooked smile and her little boy’s laughter out of my head.
23
Annie
THE BELL RANG AND JERKED me from my sleep. It had been months since I’d been in the brothel, but every bell, every whistle, and every wind chime spooked me.
This bell however was not for me to line up and greet johns. No, it was a meditation bell, at my so-called retreat, which was a fancy word for rehab. My parents had forced me to “get healthy” to deal with my trauma. I fucking hated every minute here. I missed my son, I missed Pat.
The grounds were beautiful. I was somewhere in Arizona, and my days consisted of yoga, massages, horseback riding, music therapy, group therapy, and individual therapy. Best that money could buy.
But of course I didn’t participate in the group therapy—I was under strict orders by my family not to reveal what had happened to me to other patients. It was for my protection, they said. For Gabriel’s. They didn’t want him growing up knowing he was born in a brothel, that his father had been the one who had kidnapped and forced me into sex slavery. Gabriel was young, they said. He would forget about it. I was to rewrite history.
My psychiatrist knew the truth, the truth about everything, what had happened to me, Gabriel, the rescue, and my feelings toward Pat. She had signed a confidentiality agreement, and as a physician was bound to keep my secrets.
I should be grateful. I had my life back. I was free.
I didn’t feel free. I felt trapped. Trapped in my mind.
Despite my counselor insisting to me over and over again that my feelings toward Pat were natural due to the fact he’d saved me, I knew in my heart she was wrong. I didn’t love Pat because he saved me, though that clearly didn’t hurt. I loved the way he looked at me as a woman, not as a victim. The way he played with my son. The way he held me at night. The way he kissed me, yet held back from going further. I felt his desire, I knew he wanted me.
And that kiss. What would it be like to kiss him every night, have him kiss every inch of my body, and have him bring me to the brink? Was I not allowed to have sexual thoughts because I was a recovering sex slave? I was so fucking sick of everyone telling me what I should feel: I should hate men and I should be so damaged that I should detest the touch of a man.
I wanted to be loved. I wanted to reclaim my sexuality. Enjoy sex, feel what it’s like to experience pleasure from a man who loved me and wasn’t using me. Didn’t I deserve to be happy?
Pat said he wanted nothing to do with me. Did he mean it? Or was he just trying to protect me, afraid he could never give me what I needed.
I was due to check out of this place in a week. And I couldn’t wait to be reunited with my son. Pat was deployed, I knew that. But I needed to see him again, and see if we had any chance of finding happiness together.
24
Patrick
TODAY WAS HOMECOMING. ALL THE other men would have their wives, girlfriends, and kids waiting for their arrival on the dock. Not me. I hadn’t even bothered telling my mom when I’d be returning. No need for her to fly down from Northern California. I’d take leave soon and go visit her. For now, I wanted peace and quiet. Time to finally put all that had happened behind me.
Vic stopped by my rack. “Hey, man. What you doing Saturday? My family is having a fiesta for us—carne asada on the grill, tequila. You want to come?”
“Thanks, man. I’ll text you. Tonight, I just want to get home to see my dog.” Trigger had been staying with a SEAL buddy stuck on instructor duty, training BUD/S Phase One, for the wannabe SEALs.
“Okay. See you Saturday.” He gave me a man-hug and headed out.
Despite my best intentions, I hadn’t been able to resist keeping up with Annie’s return. Luckily, my name hadn’t been in the press and she had evaded revealing the details of her escape. She’d refused all interviews and her family had asked for privacy and time to heal. Of course, the internet had been rife with gossip—conspiracy theories, government cover ups, witness relocation. Maybe her choice to lie had been the correct one, because at least her and Gabriel’s pictures weren’t plastered all over the news.
I gathered my pack and gun. I couldn’t wait to sleep in my own bed tonight.
Kyle and I walked down the gangplank after most of the sailors and Marines had dispersed. I wasn’t in any rush. We were docked at the 32nd Street Naval Base. The beautiful view of the Hotel Del Coronado was behind me, and I marveled at the San Diego waterfront. I was happy to be home.
A sailor in front of me ran toward his wife, then cradled his infant, whom he was surely meeting for the first time. I couldn’t imagine having to come home to this new life, new baby, and trying to make up for all the time I wasn’t around. Being a stranger to my own family wasn’t something that appealed to me.
Before I could scan the rest of the crowd, Kyle whispered to me. “Your wife and kid are here.”
My head turned. Annie stood before me, Gabriel at her side. She was holding a painted “Welcome Home Patrick!” sign. What the fuck were they doing here?
“Hey, Hero.” She was stunning, and looked completely different than when I’d left her near her parents’ house. Her black hair was blown dry and had lighter highlights framing her face. Her hazel eyes now seemed more golden, set off by her purple eye shadow. She’d gained some weight and her body looked soft and round—perfect. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way her form-fitting pink sweater hugged her newly found curves. Curves which made my mouth dry. Gabriel was dressed in a little polo shirt and khaki pants. He beamed when he saw me and I scooped him up in my arms.
“Hey buddy!”
“Pat! Ship?” He pointed to the carrier. I wanted to give him a tour—but I didn’t know where I stood with Annie.
Before I could greet Annie, Kyle was hugging her. I put Gabriel down and Kyle gave him a high five.
“You look gorgeous, Annie. I got to bounce but I’m sure I’ll see you at Vic’s barbeque Saturday?”
Dammit Kyle. Way to back me into a corner. I didn’t know what Annie wanted from me or if she was visiting me out of gratitude or lingering feelings.
“I’d love to!”
“Great, see you then. Pat, I’ll call you later.”
Kyle winked and walked away, leaving me alone with Annie and Gabriel.
“How did you find me?”
Her hair blew in the wind and she smiled. “You’re not the only one who can find people. My dad’s was a Navy Lieutenant. He went to Annapolis.”
Why hadn’t she told me that before? Her dad was a ring knocker? Figured.
I wasn’t ready to see her. I had planned on finding her before I deployed again, but on my terms. “What are you doing here? I told you we couldn’t see each other—”
She bit her lip, her smile now sad. “Relax. I get it. Really . . . I just came to see you because I wanted to tell you thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry for the way I behaved detoxing and the last night on the ship. I clearly wasn’t myself. Don’t worry; I’m not going to stalk you.”
Maybe I wanted her to stalk me. Fuck, I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted. This new Annie wasn’t the same beaten down girl I’d left behind. She was now strong, sexy, and confident, which only made me want her more.
The wind from the Pacific Ocean blew up her skirt, and I glimpsed black lace panties. I wanted to take her right there on the pier, hike up her skirt and fuck her brains out.
“Need a ride?”
Did I ever. Mind out of gutter. I’d planned on taking the shuttle back to the Naval Amphibious Base Coronado where my truck was parked. “I’m good. There’s a shuttle.”
She paused
for a second. “Can I take you to lunch? Just to thank you. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
“I could eat.” I followed her out to the parking lot. She pressed the button on her keys and a brand new deep purple Audi Q7 blinked its lights. “Nice ride.”
“Oh, thanks. My dad bought it for me. I didn’t want to drive anywhere by myself at first, but now I love it.”
She put Gabriel in his car seat and I opened the driver’s door for her. I came around to the passenger’s side and slid in. This luxury SUV had all the bells and whistles—navigation, MP3, seat sensors.
She drove off base. My body remembered I hadn’t been with anyone since her. But she wasn’t my girlfriend picking me up after a long deployment and Gabriel wasn’t my kid. We weren’t a couple—I barely even knew her. We were just deeply connected by this experience. This was closure, for her and for me. And really, I was curious to see how she’d adjusted back to her old life. I wanted the truth, not lies fed from a tabloid. I needed to know she was okay and why she had lied. So I could move on and put her in the past. Finally.
There was something about her now which I couldn’t figure out. A coolness. An air. She drove over the Coronado Bridge, down Coronado Avenue. Gabriel sang “Yo Gabba Gabba” songs. We pulled up to my favorite non-SEAL watering hole, Leroy’s, and sat down at one of the reclaimed wood tables. I ordered a burger and a craft beer; she had ahi tacos and a lemon drop, Gabriel had a cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate milk.
“So, how you been? Any relapses?”
She rolled her eyes. “Good, I guess. No relapses. My parents sent me to a rehab-type emotional counseling place for a month. I hated it, to me it felt like being kidnapped all over again, and being away from Gabriel, but I guess it helped. I mean, nights are still no fun—I get scared and have nightmares. Plus, I find it hard to do anything without asking for permission.”