Anabel Unraveled (34 page)

“Why don’t you tell them, then?” I cut him off. “You know better than I.”

Chapter 37—Jared

I slept off my hangover and managed to pull myself out of bed in the early afternoon. My head was fuzzy and there was a distinct ringing in my ears, and I got into the shower to try and wash away my sins from the previous night. Bits and pieces were swirling in my mind, and the fact was, I was embarrassed that I had gotten so drunk. Seeing Jonathan Martin was definitely something I was not looking forward to. I was not due to meet him until six, so I let the water slowly massage me awake.

I didn’t feel right, though. Something was nagging at the back of my brain, and I thought about the glasses upon glasses of whiskey that I had consumed the night before, about Jonathan’s snide remarks, my anger . . .

And then I remembered Anabel.

“Oh, no,” I said, as images of the previous evening flashed in my head. Her screaming. The look of betrayal on her face. And blood. There had been a lot of blood. What had I done to that poor girl?

I knew I had to tell her father. Her relationship with him wasn’t exactly cordial, and she wouldn’t think that she could go to him. But after that mess I left her in, even though I knew full well he might try and kill me; I had to think about her. She shouldn’t have bled that much. I cringed at that thought. She might need medical attention, and I doubted she would own up to Jonathan what had happened.

So I quickly dressed and walked down the hall to his office. What was I going to say, exactly? I don’t know. “Mr. Martin, I’m sorry, I got drunk and raped your daughter, and she may need a doctor?” I was so screwed, it wasn’t even funny.

As I approached Jonathan’s office, I noticed that something seemed amiss. The hall was deserted. Getting closer, I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. When I pushed it open, my jaw dropped.

Jonathan Martin was lying on the floor, with no fewer than four gunshot wounds along his spinal column.

I raced over to him and flipped him onto his back, frantically feeling for a pulse. I then realized there was nothing I could do. His eyes were glazed over, and my guess was he had been dead for at least half an hour.

It had been apparent from Charlie’s warning that Jonathan had enemies on Caereon, but I had no idea that someone was considering killing him. I wondered that I hadn’t heard gunshots, but then I remembered someone commenting that the office was soundproof.

I punched the wall, having no idea what to do. You didn’t exactly call 911 on a Top Secret island.

That was when my thoughts went to Anabel. If someone had killed her father, they might be after her. Swallowing hard, I got to my feet and sprinted out of the room.

I ran down the long hall to her room, and my heart stopped when I saw the door was open. I took a moment to pray to God that she was okay, and when I pushed open the door . . . she wasn’t there.

The room was a mess though. Her clothes—all of them—had been thrown onto the floor. The bloody rug, a sordid reminder from last night, was covered in bed linens. Books were thrown all over her library. Either Anabel had had the mother of all temper tantrums, which I doubted because I don’t think she would’ve thrown her books around like that, or (and this was what I didn’t want to even consider) someone had already been here.

I had to find Anabel. I had to know she was okay. I wandered down the corridor for a long time, looking in rooms, but I didn’t encounter anyone. About half an hour went by and with each passing step I grew more and more hopeless and concerned about encountering the most-certainly armed murderer. Finally, I hit a dead end, a spiral staircase that looked like it went up to the attic. I kicked the wall in frustration. Sighing, I turned away to go back, but then I thought better of it and quietly walked up the stairs.

By some miracle, she was there, asleep on top of an old couch. It was, I guessed, the most tranquil moment she had gotten since last night. So I hesitated. At the same time I knew it wasn’t safe for us to be here, so I walked over to her and gently touched her arm. “Anabel, hey Anabel,” I whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked confused. “Jared?”

“Listen, something bad has happened—”

That was when recognition spread across her face, and her eyes hardened. She sat up and pushed away from me. “You!” She stood up and made for the staircase. “You get away from me. I want nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” I said, catching her arm, “and in any other circumstances, I would respect your wishes, but Anabel, something terrible has happened.”

She tried to yank herself away, but I was too strong. “Let go, Jared,” she demanded.

“No, I need you to listen to me.” I had to be calm; I had to hold it together for her.

“I don’t care about anything you have to say to me. If you don’t let go of me, I’ll scream!”

That was when I pulled her close and covered her mouth with my hand. She continued to resist, but she couldn’t break apart from me, a fact that flooded me with shame. “Listen to me,” I ordered her. “We need to be silent, Anabel, because your father is dead, and whoever killed him might come after you, too!”

I don’t think it registered with her at first. Her breathing stopped, and I loosened my grip on her. She wouldn’t run away from me now. She slowly moved out of my grasp and looked me in the eyes, horrified. “What did you say?”

“Baby, I’m so sorry—”

“He’s dead?” She collapsed on the couch.

“Look, I know I’m the last person you want to be with right now. But I owe it to you and your brother to get you out of here. Is there somewhere we can go? That nobody else on the island knows about?”

She sat there, not moving. I didn’t want to prod her, but I didn’t know how long we had before someone would come looking for her again. Then she nodded. “We have to go to my room and get something.”

“That was the first place I looked for you.”

She stared at me blankly. “Did you see anybody there?”

“No,” I said, relieved that she had finally responded.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

I sat down next to her. “Anabel,” I began.

“Please don’t say anything.” Her voice was emotionless, and again, all I could feel was remorse.

“Okay.” I couldn’t deny her that.

She got to her feet, and I followed her down the stairs. We walked in silence, not seeing anyone in the hall. She stopped about ten feet from her door. She beckoned me close and when I leaned my head in she whispered in my ear, “We’re going to have to be very quick. I need one book, and then there’s a way out. Nod if you understand.”

I complied.

So she walked into her room and gasped, taking in the absolute mess. Then she pulled herself together and walked to her bookshelf and grabbed a copy of Emma. “Okay,” she whispered. She motioned for me to follow her, and she led me back to a room that looked like an AV room with monitors. There were TVs, microphones, and what looked like a recorder. I barely had time to take that in when she entered a code and banged open a door in the back.

I blinked in the light. We stepped out into the jungle, and Anabel closed the door behind her. “We should have a decent start. Jonathan and I were the only ones that knew that password.”

“Where are we going?”

“My father called it ‘The Safe House.’ It’s basically a bomb shelter.” She opened the book to the back page, and slowly slid out a piece of paper from the back cover.

“What’s that?”

“A map. I’ve never been there, so this is the only way we’re going to find out where it is.”

“Anabel?”

She looked at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“I think this will be a lot easier if we don’t talk.” She turned her back on me and began to make her way through the jungle.

“So,” I revealed to everyone at the table, “I wouldn’t say I saved her, I just got her out of there.”

“Yes, well I would have died if you hadn’t. I’m so very thankful that nobody thought to look for me in the attic.” Anabel leaned forward. “I’ll always be grateful to you for that, Jared.”

“I don’t deserve your gratitude.” I muttered.

“Well Jared,” said Meghan in earnest, “it was rather heroic.”

I stood up. “None of you get it, do you?” I turned around and stormed outside.

The air was cool, and I took a few deep breaths. Thinking about the whole thing made me angry at myself all over again. I hated reliving hurting Anabel.

“Hey!”

I turned and looked at her. She had followed me, and was shivering. “I need to ask you something,” she announced, her voice light.

“What’s that?”

“Why didn’t you get me anything for my birthday?” She came close to me.

I laughed. “I had no idea you were such a materialist.”

“Emma’s bed doesn’t count, either. I refuse to have baby gifts for my birthday.” She shivered again. “I should’ve listened to Matt and worn my boots.”

I decided to ignore that. “I did get you something. I just haven’t given it to you because every time I try we get into a verbal battle.”

“That does sound like us,” she conceded. “Why did you run out like that?”

“I can’t deal with myself sometimes. I can’t deal with what I did to you.”

“Jared,” she crooned my name, touching my arm. “I let it go. You need to as well.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you forgive me? How can you possibly let it go?”

She considered. “I don’t want to be like my father, letting my anger consume me all the time. Besides, there’s another reason.”

“What?”

She wordlessly pointed to her belly.

I took that in, and shook my head a few times. “So that’s it. That’s all there is between us. The baby.”

“That and raw animal magnetism.”

I looked at her; her eyes were mischievous. “Oh yeah?”

“That’s probably also why we repel so much.” She stepped away from me. It was almost like a dance with her: one step forward, but always two steps back.

“We could make it work, you know,” I told her.

“Jared,” she sighed, “it’s not like you’ve been trying all that hard. You forget my birthday. You go out with other women—”

“I told you I was sorry about the birthday thing.”

“I was sorry too. It let me know where we stand.” She took another step away, and I knew I had to take drastic action.

“Anabel, I love you.”

She looked startled. “What?”

“I love you. There. I said it. Are you happy now?”

“No!” she snapped. “I don’t want you to tell me you love me when we’re in the middle of a fight! All we do is fight!”

I groaned. “Well, that’s not all my fault.”

“It’s not all of mine either.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Being with you scares me,” she admitted. “Look, I have strong emotions toward you, Jared. But I don’t know what they are. I get so angry at you sometimes, angrier than I’ve ever been at anyone, even Jonathan.”

I walked up to her. “But we’ve had some good times too.”

“Have we?”

“Just because I can’t think of any at the moment . . .” I smiled at her.

“Every time I’m with you, I have the same thought.”

“What’s that?”

“I should run away from you right now.” She looked down.

“You don’t want to,” I pulled her close. “Because you know that nobody loves you like I do. Nobody gets you like I do.”

She laughed, and it sounded strangled. “That’s a bit disheartening.”

“You love me.”

“You broke my heart. And the rest of me, for that matter.” Anabel met my eyes defiantly. “Can you commit to me, Jared? Could I really be first in your life? Or would I always be looking over my shoulder, wondering about the other women?”

“There wouldn’t be any. Only you.”

“Somehow I have a hard time believing that,” she rolled her eyes.

I ignored this. “Stop going in circles. You and I both know what it comes down to. Can you honestly tell me you don’t love me?”

She hesitated.

“You can’t,” I said, triumphant.

“No,” she admitted. “But I don’t think I love you the way you want me to.”

We looked at each other, and Anabel re-crossed her arms in front of her and smiled, but her eyes were hardening again. “You and me, we do this, and it’s all a game to you, isn’t it?”

“Not this again, Anabel.”

She sighed. “It’s the same cycle every time. We do this thing where we’re sort of civil, and then we scream at each other, and then we kiss, and I wind up confused.”

“We’re not screaming at each other this time,” I pointed out. “So why don’t we just get on with the kissing?”

“It is all a game to you!” She was getting mad.

I pulled her close.

She met my eyes again, but this time hers were fearful. “Don’t do this, Jared.”

“Do what?” I murmured, staring back down at her.

“Tell me you love me,” she whispered. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I love you,” I told her, and I meant it.

I could see tears forming in her eyes. “It’s not enough,” she said. “It’s not enough for me.”

“It could be if you’d let it.” I kissed a tear away.

“I think you should let me go,” she begged.

“I can’t do that, Anabel.”

“Please, Jared,” she pleaded, sounding scared, her lower lip trembling. What was she scared of, I wondered. Her feelings for me? Another flare-up of both of our tempers? But I couldn’t let the moment pass. I couldn’t lose this last chance with her. I had to do the one thing that I knew she didn’t want me to do, but I did it anyway because I knew it was my only chance at winning her back.

I kissed her.

Chapter 38—Anabel

He kissed me.

But for the first time, I didn’t kiss him back. My eyes opened and I studied what I could of his face, and a pang hit me. It dawned on me then that this was it. If I couldn’t kiss him, I couldn’t tell him I loved him, then I needed to deal with the matter at hand. I didn’t want to hurt Jared, but I had to face facts.

It wasn’t Jared. It had never been, and I knew it. Listening to him tell me he loved me made me realize how much I had longed to hear those words spoken aloud—from someone else. I was in love, but not with him. Jared wasn’t the one for me, he had never been. I knew then and there that it was Matt.