Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series) (6 page)

“I love you,” he said in my ear.

“Oh, Alex.”

“I know you need time.
 
I know this is all new to you.
 
But do you feel something close to
love?”

I don’t know why, but my eyes welled up
with tears again.
 
I think the
reaction was fueled by two feelings: happiness that someone actually considered
me worthy of love, which no man in my life ever had, and utter fear that this
man did when a part of me still felt that unworthiness.
 
I needed to shake that part of my life
off.
 
I needed to listen to Blackwell.
 
I needed to trust men again.
 
As foreign and as fearful as it was for
me to trust any man, I needed to trust Alex.
 
I would never forget my father’s abuse, but that didn’t mean
that I didn’t have it within me to shelve it and move forward.
 
It was time to think rationally.
 
Every man wasn’t like my father.
 
I needed to believe in that.

I took a breath and kissed him again.
 
“I’m falling for you, Alexander
Wenn.
 
I’m falling fast, and it
scares the hell out of me for some reasons you know, and other reasons you
might never understand.
 
But I’m
working on those reasons.
 
I’m
doing my best to work through all of my stupid issues—”

“They’re not stupid.”

“Maybe.
 
Maybe not.
 
But
what happened between my father and me over the course of all those years did
happen and it did affect me.
 
Of
course it did.
 
How couldn’t it
have, when some drunk fool stood in front of me when I was six and struck me
with a belt across my back for no reason?
 
All this happened while my mother looked on, and she never intervened
because she also was frightened of him.”

“Jennifer—”

I stopped for a moment to collect
myself.
 
I closed my eyes before I
looked at him again.
 
He certainly
didn’t need some emotional wreck to deal with now.
 

Get it together.

“Blackwell and I had a wonderful talk
earlier today,” I said, pressing on.
 
“I’ve really come to admire her and respect her.
 
I consider her a friend, which she
doesn’t want to hear.
 
But I guess
we all have our hang-ups, don’t we?
 
She thinks she’s unworthy of friendship.
 
I think I’m unworthy of love.
 
We’re two peas in a pod.”

“You are worthy of love.
 
I love you.”

“I know you do.
 
And I’m grateful for that.
 
As for Blackwell, she told me what I already know.
 
And that’s that somehow, I need to
learn to trust.
 
I promise you
this, Alex.
 
I plan on giving all
of myself to you—not just physically, but everything I have within
me.
 
It might not come as quickly
as you want, but it’ll come.
 
I’m
working on it.
 
I know I sound
pathetic right now, but if you knew what he did to me, and how frequently he
did what he did to me, then maybe you’d understand.
 
It won’t be easy.
 
But I’m committed to moving through it and having a loving relationship
with a good man—you.
 
I said
I’m your girlfriend.
 
I said it
because I meant it—not because you wanted to hear it.
 
And you know what?
 
I’m happy that I said it because this
is officially the first time I’ve had a boyfriend.
 
You have come to mean so much to me.
 
Please, just give me a little more time
to work through whatever it is that I need to work through—to throw that
bastard aside and realize my own self-worth.
 
Because if and when I do tell you that I love you, you will
know for certain that it’s the truth.”

CHAPTER
SEVEN

When I left Alex, I slung my handbag over
my shoulder and met Blackwell, who was standing just outside the door and
talking with one of the guards.
 
She stopped when she saw me.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine.
 
I’m very lucky.”

“So is he.”

I glanced at the guard.
 
He was a good-looking man.
 
He had short brown hair, stood well
over six feet, and was nothing if not a muscular brute.
 
“Do we know anything yet?” I asked him.

“Unfortunately, nothing of significance,
ma’am.
 
The man who fired shots at
you is dead.”

“I understand that.
 
We killed him.”

“Out of self-defense,” Blackwell said.

I looked at her, but didn’t respond.

“He carried no identification, though the
FBI is using their Facial Recognition Technology to see if they can match his
face with anything in their files,” the guard said.
 
“If he ever was arrested, they will be able to match his
face with his identity, which will give us something to work with.
 
If they fail, because he had no
previous record, then we have nothing because the car he used was stolen and
obviously not listed in his name.
 
We’re working every angle, but we might not ever know who he was or whom
he worked for.
 
I need you to be
prepared that.”

“That’s what Alex said.”

“Alex is correct.
 
Whoever is behind this might already
have accomplished what they set out to accomplish—terrify each of you and
keep you on edge going forward because of what happened the other night.
 
We’re not going to stop investigating
this—that’s far from the case.
 
I just need you to be prepared in case they have already pulled back
their team and gone underground.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Because of what was written in the email
I received.
 
They’re playing with
us now.
 
If they wanted to shoot
Alex or me, they would have.
 
I
come from Maine.
 
I know how
accurate a rifle is because my uncles and aunts are hunters.
 
If anyone wanted either of us dead the
other night, they would have had us in their sights and they would have killed
us.
 
So, why didn’t they?”

“Other than what I already presented to
you, we don’t know why.”

“I think it’s because they want to screw
with us even more before they do kill us.”

“We can’t be certain of that, ma’am.”

I shrugged.
 
“Of course you can’t.
 
What we can be certain of is that my life with Alex is going to be spent
on edge if these people aren’t found and brought to justice.”

“If you’re with Mr. Wenn, your life always
will be in danger.
 
Mr. Wenn is a
target for a whole host of reasons.
 
That will never change.
 
If
you’re with him, you must also assume those risks and that lifestyle.
 
That said, both of you always will have
a highly trained security team around you.”

I absorbed that for a moment.
 
Is that how I wanted to live my
life?
 
With guards protecting
me?
 
Having almost no privacy?
 
The answer came at once.
 
If that’s what it took to be with Alex,
then that’s how I’d live my life.
 
“Will I be safe tonight?”

Blackwell, who I knew had been itching to
stop my questioning because of the dark turns it had taken, intercepted with a
nod.
 
“Tank here is going to make
sure of it.”

“Your name is ‘Tank’?” I asked.

“It’s actually Mitch, ma’am.”

“I like to think of you as ‘Tank’,”
Blackwell said.
 

Her voice became unnaturally bright.
 
She was trying to turn the conversation
around to achieve a lighter tone.
 
And while I admired her effort to ease my mind, I actually preferred how
straight this man was being with me.
 

“I mean, look at you,” Blackwell
said.
 
“It’s like the Army got hold
of you as a child, ran some random experiments, jolted you with some sort of
nuclear energy, and altered your DNA.”

He didn’t respond to the joke.
 
Instead, he looked at me and I was
struck by the intensity in his eyes.
 
“You’ll be fine with me, Ms. Kent.”

Will I?
 
And what about Alex?
 
Will he be OK?

Blackwell was no fool.
 
She knew the situation was tense and
she respected it.
 
She backed off
and turned to me.
 
“Bernie will be
ready for you at Wenn at six-thirty.
 
He’s come through again, which means I’m going shopping tomorrow to buy
him something that will send him over the moon for all of his help since we
first began.
 
He deserves it.
 
I’ve told him which dress I think will
work best for tonight, so he’ll assist you there as well.
 
Stop looking at me like that,
Jennifer.
 
Bernie isn’t going to
physically dress you—you’ll dress yourself.
 
As promised, I’m staying here so you’ll know that Alex is in
good care.
 
That way, you can focus
on what will be a challenging evening.
 
But you’ll meet that challenge.
 
I have no doubt about it.
 
You’ll see some familiar faces at Peachy’s, but there will be many whom
you don’t know.
 
Though
they
will know
you
.
 
You and Alex were just on the front
page of the
Times
.
 
So,
expect many questions and a wealth of faux concern.”

She jerked a thumb at Tank.
 
“Tank here will be joining
you—monkey suit and everything.
 
Wait until you see him in that.
 
Formidable
.”
 
She
checked her watch.
 
“You’ve got
five hours before you need to start getting ready.
 
What do you want to do now?”

“I want to see Lisa,” I said.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

When we arrived at my apartment building
on Fifth, it was sunny and still warm.
 
In the midst of September, this was unusual for me.
 
If I had been back in Maine, I likely
would have been wearing a light sweater and pants to transition into fall
instead of the Capri pants and the pale blue T-shirt Lisa had dropped off for
me the night Alex was brought to the hospital.
 
Even though Manhattan and Maine were only an hour apart by
plane, they might as well have been a world apart when it came to the weather
conditions in September.

Mitch stepped out of the car, I grabbed my
bag, and he shielded me as we walked across the busy sidewalk into the lobby.

“Thank you,” I said to him when we were
safely inside.

“Nothing will happen to you under my
watch, ma’am.”

“Please call me Jennifer.
 
I mean it, OK?
 
It’s Jennifer.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then his
stoic face softened.
 
“All
right.
 
But I’m not supposed to.”

“I know you’re not, so it’ll remain
between us.
 
And I refuse to call
you Tank.”

“I actually kind of like it.”

I couldn’t help but smile at him.
 
Men will be boys.
 
“If that’s the case, then Tank it
is.
 
At least when it’s just
us.
 
Otherwise, it’s Mitch and
ma’am, I guess.
 
I don’t want you
getting into trouble because of me.”

“Fair enough.”

“So I’ll see you at six-fifteen?”

He nodded.
 
“I’ll collect you right here.
 
Don’t wait outside.”

“No worries there.”

When I stepped into my apartment, Lisa
stood just beyond the door.
 
Her
blonde hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders and she wore no
makeup—not that she needed any.
 
Lisa was one of the lucky ones—her skin just seemed to glow.
 

“I heard the elevator,” she said when she
hugged me.
 
“I thought it was
you.
 
I’ve missed you terribly.”

“Have we ever been apart for two days?” I
asked in her ear.

“I think maybe in sixth grade.
 
One of us got sick or something and we
were quarantined from each other.
 
It was awful.”

We parted and screwed our faces up at each
other.

“How could our parents have done that to
us?” I asked.

“Heartless.”

“Let’s not let it happen again anytime
soon.”

“You must be exhausted.
 
Come inside.
 
Let me take your bag.
 
You can take a nap and then we can talk, or we can talk and you can go
to bed early.
 
Whichever you like,
but you need your rest.”

“Which won’t be happening tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to a dinner party tonight at
Peachy Van Prout’s.”
 
I saw a look
of humor cross her face so I held up a hand.
 
“Don’t laugh.
 
If you get me laughing about her name, I’m only going to laugh
inappropriately when I meet her.”

“All right, but it’s still a stupid name.”

“Agreed.”

“Imagine being Peachy all the time.”

“Lisa—”

“Look at me being all Peachy.
 
Look at the sun shining out of my
ass.
 
Oh, look—I’m a
unicorn.”

“Stop!”

“OK.”
 
She hesitated.
 
“I think I’ll have the Peachy cobbler!”

“Oh, my God….
 
I’m not going to be able to face this woman.”

We walked into the living room.
 
Everywhere I looked, I was reminded of
Alex.
 
He created this space for
us.
 
Just being here again was
moving.

“I’ll be good,” Lisa said.
 
“What’s tonight about?”

“Henri Dufort has invited me to come as
his guest.
 
He’s the guy I told you
about who owns Streamed.”

“You’re going alone?”

“I’m going with Tank.”

“What’s a Tank?”

“A giant of a man, former Marine, very
kind.
 
He’s going with me to
protect me.
 
His real name is
Mitch, but he prefers to be called Tank, which makes me like him even
more.
 
I took to him instantly.”

“Is he hot?”

“Ummm, yeah.
 
You could definitely say that Tank is hot.”

“How hot?”

“You could fry an egg on his ass.”

“How old is he?” Lisa asked.
 
“Is he single?”

We both sat on the living room sofa.
 
My right hip was sore, so I maneuvered
myself so that I wasn’t sitting on it.
 

“I’d say he’s somewhere around thirty.”

“Perfect.”

“No idea about whether he’s single.”

“Unacceptable.”

“That said, when you’re thirtyish and look
like Tank, I think you pretty much enjoy yourself until you decide that you
want something more in life.
 
Like
a girlfriend.”
 
I shrugged.
 
“But what do I know?
 
Maybe he does want that.
 
Maybe he already has that.
 
I just met him.
 
I can find out more later.”

“I’m ready to date again, so if you find
out that he’s single and think that he’s dating material, let me know.”

“You’re ready to date again?”

“Being intimate with my zombies has
limited appeal.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“How is Alex?”

“He’ll be fine.
 
When he struck his head on the pavement, he received a
fairly severe concussion, so they’re being careful and keeping him
overnight.
 
He’ll be out tomorrow.”

“Jennifer, what happened that night?”

I told her exactly what happened, and then
what little else I knew.

“Did you see the
Times
?
 
Because half of what you just told me
isn’t in their story.”

“How could it be?
 
Nobody from the
Times
talked
with us.
 
Alex wouldn’t allow it.”

“I saved the paper for you if you want to
read it.”

“Maybe later.”

“It’s on your bed.
 
Are you and Alex back on track?”

“We are.
 
We worked it out before I left this afternoon.
 
Blackwell was a big help to that
end—she was tough but fair with me over lunch.
 
She pushed me.
 
In many ways, she reminds me of you in that way.”
 
I paused.
 
“If you bring me my bag, I’ll share something with you.”

She retrieved it for me, and I removed the
letter Alex wrote me.
 
I handed it
to her.
 
“Read that.”

She did.
 
When she was finished, she carefully folded it like the gift
that it was, and then she handed it back to me.
 
“That’s love,” she said.
 

“I know it is.”

“No one ever has written me anything like
that.
 
That was beautiful.
 
How do you feel about it?”

“Moved.
 
Touched.
 
Undeserving.
 
The
usual.
 
My father really did a
number on me.”

A flash of irritation crossed her
face.
 
“He did once.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what it sounds like.
 
Look, after reading Alex’s letter, I’m
just going lay it out for you, Jennifer.
 
You’re holding yourself back.
 
You can let go of all of it whenever you wish—it’s up to you.
 
It’s always been up to you.
 
But you don’t let it go because, for
whatever reason, you still believe everything your father ever said to you when
he was beating you.
 
Why?
 
You’re twenty-five now.
 
You’re hundreds of miles away from
him.
 
Let it go.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Really?”

“What do you know about being beaten?”

“Nothing.”

“So, you’re in a position to tell me how I
should feel?”

“Someone has to get through to you.”

“Are we having an argument?”

“Maybe it’s time for one.
 
You’re not getting any younger.
 
You’re wasting your life on your shitty
past.
 
You know perfectly well that
all you were to him was an easy target, yet you continue to hold tight to what
he did to you.
 
Why?
 
Here’s a guess—because it’s some weird
sort of safety blanket you use to ward off other men.
 
You know that everything your father said and did to you was
fueled by booze, yet you won’t let go of it.
 
Why?
 
Why not
just get rid of it?
 
Why let it
continue to hold you down and hold you back?
 
Not every man is your father.
 
Alex is deserving of your trust, but he won’t stick around
forever.
 
I can promise you
that.
 
And neither will the next
man.
 
Or the one after that.
 
So, put your ugly past in a box, seal
it up, throw it away, and get over it.
 
It’s time.”

I didn’t respond at once, but I knew she
was right.

“You’ve begun a whole new life here.
 
Over time, we’ll each meet new and
interesting friends who will become our surrogate families.
 
I know you’ve made a lot of progress
over the years when it comes to the abuse you experienced.
 
I saw the lashings on your back when we
were kids.
 
You showed me the
bruises on your neck and arms.
 
I
know you went through hell.
 
I also
know that you could have turned to drugs.
 
You could have let yourself fail in school.
 
But you didn’t.
 
Do you get it?
 
Even then,
you had it within you to improve yourself so you could get the hell out of
Maine and away from your parents.
 
So, enough is enough.
 
That
letter I just read?
 
You’re a fool
if you don’t recognize the heart that went into it.
 
You’re a fool if you don’t shake off the past and give this
man the shot he deserves.”

“I told him that I was his girlfriend
today.”

“Good!
 
That’s progress.
 
Now, let me ask you the tough question.
 
Do you love him?”

I looked at her.
 
“Why is this so hard for me?”

“You know why, and I know why, but it ends
today.
 
So, answer me.
 
Do you love him?
 
Either you do or you don’t.
 
It’s not rocket science.
 
Right now, you should know.
 
Get rid of the security blanket and be
honest with me and with yourself.
 
Do you love him or not?”

“I wouldn’t be going to this party for him
tonight if I didn’t feel something for him.”

“Just ‘something’?”

“Something profound.”

“What do you feel?”

“Everything.”

“What’s everything?”

For a moment, I felt completely exposed,
but then I just said it.
 

“Love,” I said.
 
“I’m in love with him, and I’m scared to death of it.
 
I know it’s irrational because, with
the exception of the one blip that night at the Met fundraiser, he’s been
nothing but wonderful to me.
 
And
still I feel insecure.
 
Still I
have trust issues.
 
But the truth
is that I am in love with him.
 
He’s come to mean everything to me.
 
I think about him all the time.
 
I worry about him constantly.
 
I can feel him when he’s not with me, and I can smell him
when I go to sleep.
 
He’s always
with me.
 
And I sure as hell don’t
want to lose him because of my goddamned hang-ups.”