The Confession (13 page)

“Got you a burger from downstairs.”

I'd lost track of the time, but when I looked at the clock on the stove I saw that it was almost four. Alec had left hours ago.

“Thanks. You can come in if you want.” A little company sounded good.

“Hard to watch for bad guys from in there,” he said.

I faked another smile. “Thanks for keeping an eye out, and thanks for the burger.”

I locked the door behind him, and found myself back in the kitchen. I grabbed the phone, and while I picked at the food, called my dad.

“This is Ben Rossi.”

“This is Anna Rossi,” I replied.

“There she is,” he said. “The one who gives me gray hair.”

I smiled sadly. “I'm on Alec's prepaid phone. I just have a couple minutes.”

“Sure,” he said. “Alec filled me in.”

“Did he?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Good to keep you out of this media circus for a while. You need to rest anyway.”

Not exactly the answer I was expecting. Even if he didn't know about the pictures—which I didn't think he did—he was taking this all a little too well. The last time we'd had a real conversation about Alec, my dad hadn't been crazy about his status as a walking tornado.

“It's hard work being such a celebrity.” I pulled at the ends of my hair. “Are you really okay with me staying here with Alec?”

He thought about this a moment. “I'm more okay than if you were staying with a serial killer, but less okay than if you were sitting here in the car with me right now.”

I thought about how hard all of this must have been for him. Somehow he and Alec had formed some kind of trust when it came to my safety. I didn't understand it, but it was a relief all the same to know they were getting along.

“That's a pretty wide range,” I said.

“Should I not be okay with you staying with Alec?” he asked, his voice thinning.

There was the Ben Rossi I knew and loved.

“No, Dad,” I said. “He's been a perfect gentleman.” Almost too perfect.

“If he's not . . .”

“He is, Dad. I promise.”

He gave a stubborn
humph
.

“You need to stay out of sight, all right? Promise me you'll stay inside. No taking off.”

My dad had never made me promise this, even right after I'd come to live with him, when he knew that I had a history of running. He'd always told me I could tell him if I felt like it, and to always remember his phone number, but never that I couldn't escape.

“All right,” I said quietly. “I promise.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The question hung between us. He didn't know about the pictures; if he had, he wouldn't have been so calm. I was glad Alec hadn't told him that.

“I'm fine. What are you doing?”

“Some very important investigating. I'm on a stakeout right now, in fact.”

I imagined him in an unmarked rental car, binoculars raised to his eyes as he waited outside some seedy motel.

“Exciting,” I said. “Where at?”

I could hear the grunt of a dog in the background. He'd taken Mug. Of course he had.

“The Keys. Your mom and I came here once before we got you. It was
very
romantic.”

“Geeze,” I muttered. “Spare me the details.”

He chuckled, and I couldn't help but feel a little surprised that he'd left town so soon after I'd been in the hospital.

“How's the head?” he asked. “Any clearer?”

“Not really.” My frustration was returning. The cleaning hadn't helped.

“Well, I'm checking in regularly with the boys in Tampa and Orlando. I'll let you know if they find anything. Any word from the FBI?”

I'd forgotten my last communication with him had been when I'd left the hospital early to track Janelle to Lakeland.

“Nothing useful.” I checked the time, unsure how many minutes were left on the phone. “I should go.”

“Call me soon,” he said. “And tell Alec if he even looks at you the wrong way, I'll shoot him.”

“Got it.” I set down the burger. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I hung up.

I'd thought talking to my dad might help me feel better, but it had just turned the spotlight on all the pieces of my life that weren't working. Alec was with Janelle. My dad was gone. And I had a black spot in my memory that blocked me from sending the biggest asshole in the world to prison.

I went back to the couch and pulled out the box. A break had done nothing, I still couldn't remember what had happened, or figure out where we were. If I knew what hotel it was, then at least I could see if they'd recognized me during check-in. Then I could pin him for the time, and line it up with my abduction.

I hated Maxim Stein. I hated him for what he'd done to Alec, and I despised him for what he'd done to me.

Before I knew it, I was at the punching bag. The first hit made my knuckles crack, and a bright shock of pain shot straight up my wrist into my shoulder. I shook my hand and hit it again. Harder this time, so that the bag swung a little. I tried my left hand, huffing out a breath as the impact bolted through my arm. The chains holding the leather creaked. I hit the bag harder.

The pain felt good. It centered me.

I hit that bag again and again. I kicked it. I pictured Maxim's face in front of my hands. I pictured a night of black stars. I pictured myself, lying in a torn dress outside a Dumpster, weak and confused, and Alec's silhouette in the dark, telling me he was sorry he'd fucked me.

I tore off my shirt when I got too hot, and kept going. Soon the blood pounding through my ears was all I could hear.

A hand came down on my shoulder, and I spun fast, and lifted my hands to block my face. Alec was standing before me, arms raised in surrender, and when the punching bag swung back it bumped me flush against his body.

He didn't move. Didn't back away. He didn't even lower his hands. I could feel his chest moving with each breath, fast, but not nearly fast enough to catch up with mine. Sweat dripped down my hairline and between my breasts, and my bra felt suddenly too constricting as my nipples hardened against the soft fabric.

I watched his eyes darken, saw the surprise change to something more primal.

Need. We both felt it. Too much thinking got in the way, and I was sick and tired of thinking when nothing but this made sense.

My body acted of its own will. I rose on my tiptoes, and reached for his hair, burying my fingers in the silky strands. I pulled him down to me, and kissed him hard. I bit his bottom lip and he growled, and soon his mouth opened and his tongue rasped against mine. He tasted like night itself; frightening but familiar in all the best ways. The kiss deepened, made my blood pump faster. Brought every memory of what that mouth could do to the present. I wanted to feel him everywhere. I wanted him to make me forget.

To hell with the consequences.

I
t didn't take long to realize he wasn't touching me. His hands were still out to his sides, though they seemed to be working under different orders, because his body curved down to meet mine, and I could feel his hard length rub against my stomach as he moved.

I reached for his fingers, trying to pull them to my waist, but he broke our kiss, and with a harsh breath, lowered his forehead against mine.

“Slow down, Anna,” he said, voice husky. “Think about this.”

“No more thinking,” I said. “I'm tired of thinking. I just want to feel good.”

The desperation was making me tremble. I could feel the last of my control cracking apart. But the pictures were flashing in the back of my mind, images of my body doing things I wasn't aware of. Things against my will. I pushed them aside.

I
had
to push them aside. Maxim had taken three days. I refused to give him any more.

“Close your eyes,” Alec said, taking a step back.

His rejection felt like a punch to the gut.

“Goddammit.” I tried to turn away, but he caught me by the wrists.

“Close your eyes,” he said again.

I did as he asked, with the humiliation just beyond my reach, threatening to swallow me whole.

His fingertips ran up my bare arm, sending goose bumps across my body. I shivered.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered.

I gave a reluctant nod.

His other hand flattened over my bare stomach, and his thumb circled my belly button. His knuckles lowered to the waistline of the boxer shorts I'd taken from his drawer, and then rose to the bottom of my ribs. My body was electric, and each touch shot through me like lightning.

“Does that feel good?”

My gasp was answer enough.

His jaw skimmed mine, and the tip of his nose brushed against my ear. I shuddered, and tilted my head to expose more of my neck. His lips touched my throat, just as his fingers trailed down the slope of my waist.

I tried to wiggle closer. He held me in place with his hands on my hips.

“Slow down,” he whispered.

My body was caught in a tug-of-war. Too hot to back away, too cold from his slow pace. I hated his control in the face of my lust. He didn't need this like I did, otherwise we could have already been done by now.

“It's just sex,” I said, wishing it was true.

His hands tightened around my hips, then pulled away.

“It was never just sex,” he said. “Not even the first time.”

Though my eyes stayed closed, I could feel his gaze, heavy and intense, holding me in place.

“I'm making a choice,” I said. “You're not taking advantage of me while I'm vulnerable or something like that.”

“Like Max did?”

My eyes opened. My jaw locked down. Any success I'd had at pushing the images aside failed, and they came tumbling back.

“Don't do that.” I tried to steady my voice, and failed. “This isn't like that. You're nothing like him.”

“I know that,” he said. “Do you?”

The rage, still so close to the surface, broke through again.

“I wouldn't be here if I didn't.” I wouldn't be hiding in this tiny apartment from my friends, and my job, and that monster Maxim Stein.

“Your knuckles tell a different story.” I looked down at my hands, now cracked and bleeding. They would hurt like a bitch tomorrow, but for now, they were mostly numb.

Alec tilted his head, so that I was forced to meet his eyes. His navy shirt was wrinkled, untucked from his jeans, and as he rolled his shoulders back I watched the way the buttons across his chest strained.

“If we hadn't stopped, what would happen tomorrow?”

I searched for my top to cover up. Stupid, impulsive move kissing him. Too hotheaded.

“Would you stay in my bed?”

I'd been confused, that was all. Alec and I were finished.

“Would you tell Amy?”

I halted. My weight shifted from one leg to the other. Amy. Paisley. I'd stayed away from Alec because they'd been hurt. What was I doing?

“That's what I thought.” Alec's voice was low. “I won't be your mistake, Anna. Not anymore.”

I snatched the shirt off the coffee table and jerked it over my head. My body was warm in all the wrong ways now. Embarrassment and shame lit me up like a stoplight.

“Quit acting like I'm throwing myself at you like some kind of whore.”

He moved fast, boxing me in against the punching bag. Though he was still an arm's length away, his big body blocked out the light, making me realize how small I was beside him.

“I never said that. I would
never
say that.” The anger made his words sharp. His close proximity was making it hard to breathe again.

“No.” I shoved him back, the words spilling out before I caught them. “You'd tell me wanting you was wrong. And then apologize for fucking me.”

A strangled noise came from his throat.

“For not being a better man. That's what I apologized for.” He looked at the ceiling, raked back his hair. “You have no idea how hard it is not to act on every fucking urge that rises up every time I look at you.”

His words tripped me up.

“Maybe you should tell Janelle that.”

Confusion drew his brows together. His chin lifted.

“Janelle's married.”

Well. That was unexpected.

“I thought she told you that when you saw her at the hotel,” he said. “She's been married seven years. The long assignments keep her and her husband apart a lot. That's why he came. No one was supposed to see them together.”

I could still see her with that stupid smile on her face and her messy hair. She was in love. With her husband.

“You knew she was married?” I asked weakly.

“Of course,” he said. Then he laughed. “Jesus. Anna. We were never together. I'm not
that
big of an asshole.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, and his grin melted. Part of me had known this all along. Part of me was pissed he hadn't come out with it sooner.

“It was a diversion,” he said. “After you and Amy were hurt at the bridge, Janelle stepped in to draw the focus away from the people I care about. Only a handful of people knew about it. Mike nearly kicked my ass when I told him I was seeing someone new.”

I'd been targeted by Trevor Marshall because it would hurt Alec. He was trying to avoid a repeat performance. I thought of how Mike and Amy had subtly encouraged me to move on. They'd legitimately thought Alec was dating someone else.

“Your plan didn't work,” I said.

Now it was his turn to look away.

“No. It didn't work.”

“Then why did you meet with her today?” I asked.

“We're maintaining the front,” he said. “We had lunch at a hotel. The press showed up. They're not talking about you if they're talking about Janelle.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to dislike her the longer he talked.

I pulled my sweat-dampened hair back, trying to make sense of this. Alec had lied to me about Janelle for my protection. They'd never been together. Janelle was still on the case.

One question rose above the rest.

“Why didn't you fight for me?”

A shadow crossed over his face. “What?”

“Why didn't you try to change my mind after that night on the bridge?”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sighed.

“For the same reason you ended it in the first place. Because I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to you.”

We stood across from each other, soaking up these truths. The words were out now, the curtains all pushed aside. All that remained was the question of where that left us now.

Neither of us asked it, probably because neither of us knew the answer.

His head fell forward. His shoulders rose as he inhaled, and then, as if he'd made some decision, his gaze lifted, and he shoved back his dark, wavy hair with one hand.

“You want to get out of here?”

“Yes.” I didn't care where we went, I just needed some air.

He strode back to the kitchen, where two new bags had been set on the counter. He must have brought them in when I'd been on my kickboxing streak. He rifled through them quickly, and pulled out a smaller paper bag.

“What's that?” I asked.

“A surprise.”

Now that my blood had cooled, I could feel the fatigue in my muscles. My shoulders would be sore, not to mention my torn-up hands. I walked tentatively toward him, pausing when he retrieved the gun out of the drawer and tucked it into the back of his waistband beneath his shirt.

“Are we going to stick up a mini-mart?” I asked. “Because if so, I forgot my ski mask at home.”

He smirked. “Just a precaution.”

I looked down at my outfit—boxer shorts and an undershirt tank top, mostly see-through thanks to the sweat on my skin. My hair was a mess. I would have killed for some lip gloss or even some tinted ChapStick.

“I should change.”

“Not for where we're going. Come on.”

Where we were going turned out to be the waterfront. Mac's restaurant was doing good business tonight, but we walked the opposite direction from the deck, down to a private beach, where the path was clear, and the music was just a whisper over the waves.

Night had come, and the moon was hidden by wispy gray clouds that stretched across the black sky. The air was tinged with the smell of salt, and a light breeze played with the tips of my hair, cooling off the thick, warm August air.

Matt stayed fifty yards behind us, but after a while disappeared. I think he was still there, but was giving us our privacy.

Alec and I sat on the shore, and slipped off our shoes. He passed the bag to me, and I almost cried when I saw the familiar pink box and plastic fork.

“You got me a cupcake?” The shop was down the street from Alec's apartment. I'd gone there way too much when he'd been in prison.

He smiled. “I got three. I wasn't sure what kind.”

“Is there chocolate?”

“They're all chocolate,” he said. “Different types of chocolate.”

“I have fantasies less satisfying than this moment,” I admitted.

He chuckled. “I'm not sure how I feel about that.”

He leaned back on his arms, long legs kicked out before him, and I mirrored his position, burying my toes in the sand. The first bite was the perfect mix of German chocolate cupcake and coconut frosting. I moaned, and flopped onto my back, savoring the taste.

When I passed him the bag, he waved it off.

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying not to stare too long at the way the glow of the stars off the water softened the lines of his face, or made his eyes shine even brighter.

“Is this part of the Feed a Starving Anna plan?”

“No.” He stared out at the water. “It's part of the Make an Anna Smile plan.”

I sat up, touched by his words, and this utterly satisfying gesture.

“It's working.”

He glanced over, as if to check, right as I was licking some frosting off my finger. For one long beat he stared at my mouth, before looking away.

I set down the uneaten half of the cupcake on the box before I did something embarrassing, like shove the whole thing in my face.

“Just to be clear on something,” I said. “Janelle won't be filing any charges against me for going to that hotel, right?”

He threw back his head and laughed, and I giggled, too, because the sound of it was so contagious.

“No, you're in the clear.”

“That's a relief.”

After a while he fell quiet. “What made you follow her?”

I clasped my hands, glad that the darkness hid my blush.

“I heard her talking on the phone. I guess I was still messed up from everything. I might still be.” I waved my empty hand. “I thought you might be in trouble.”

I remembered the fear I'd felt sitting in that cab, willing the traffic to clear so we could get to him faster. It hadn't been a question that I would go to him. I hadn't thought twice about it.

“So you came to rescue me?”

The water was close. I might be able to drown myself before he caught up.

“It was pretty stupid in hindsight,” I muttered.

The humor in his voice was gone when he spoke again.

“No one's ever taken up for me like you.”

A wave reached our feet, but neither of us moved. The water was only slightly cooler than the outside temperature. Our hands were close, and I hooked my pinky around his. It was the only place we touched, but it felt like a lifeline.

“When all this is over, where will you go?” he asked quietly.

The hollow feeling returned, reminding me how empty I could feel inside. A week ago I'd felt it when I thought about staying. Now it returned at the prospect of saying good-bye.

I stood up, and walked toward the water. A soft wave hit my feet and pulled me down, the wet sand squishing between my toes. The darkness protected me, and the starlight made my skin glow, and with the breeze moving my hair and tickling the back of my neck, I knew what I needed to do.

I waded deeper.

The sand compressed behind me as Alec rose.

Deeper.

I could hear him coming toward me.

The water hit my knees. My thighs. It wet the bottoms of the boxer shorts, and brought a sharp intake of breath as it rose between my legs. I took off my shirt and threw it back behind me.

I dove, just as Alec called my name. The saltwater washed over me, dragging through my hair, making me clean. I stayed down until my lungs burned, and Alec's slippery hands gripped my bare ankle.

And then I rose, and wrapped my arms around him, soaking any part of him that wasn't already wet. I held on as we rocked side to side in the waves, as he gripped me hard against his chest and buried his face in my neck.

I was his anchor, and he was mine.