Annihilate Me (Vol. 4) (The Annihilate Me Series) (11 page)

BOOK: Annihilate Me (Vol. 4) (The Annihilate Me Series)
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“Did
what?”

“You
left your apartment building looking like that knowing the media would be lying
in wait for you.
 
I know you did.”


I don’
t look that bad.”

“Please.
 
Would you like a mirror?
 
I told you to come here in suitable
clothing.”

“I
wore dark glasses and a hoodie.
 
I
kept my head lowered.
 
No one saw my
face.
 
I went straight to the car
and we took off.”

“But
not without leaving behind plenty of photos for people to feast upon
later.
 
And a hoodie?
 
Who the hell wears a hoodie?
 
A thug, that

s who.
 
You represent Wenn, Jennifer.
 
Get it together.”

“You

re overreacting.

She
stood and smoothed down her skirt.
 
“That

s just because you made me
go home with a babysitter last night.
 
These things I don

t
forget.
 
Payback

s a bitch.”

“Have
you had your ice for breakfast?”


I don’
t do breakfast.

“Maybe
you should crunch on a few cubes so you can work through your frustration.”

“I

ll get it out in other ways.”

“Where
is Alex?”

“Having
his hair cut.”

“When
can I see him?”

“After
you

ve been sandblasted—
you want
Alex to stay interested, don

t you?
 
Bernie will need an hour with you.
 
Then you and Alex will talk about the press conference.
 
After that, we

ll all discuss tomorrow night

s party, which Peachy has been kind enough
to host and manage for us.
 
Considering all of the surveillance cameras she

s allowed into her house, she

s fully aware of what

s going on.
 
And she wants to help.
 
I didn

t know she had a heart, but apparently she
does.
 
By my estimation, she

s risen.”

She
checked her watch and looked at me.
 

Bernie,
” she said.
 
“Then a business suit.
 
And hopefully beauty.”

 
 

*
 
*
 
*

 
 

When
Bernie was finished with me, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a new
woman.
 
I lost count of the products
he

d used on my hair and on
my face, but the result was nothing less than a miracle.
 

Somehow, he

d tamped
down my tan and gotten my hair under control.
 
Now, it was held in a loose chignon that
rested against my neck and revealed my face.
 
The suit Blackwell chose for me was
beautiful—fitted, black, and slimming over those curves of mine that
needed slimming.

“How
do you do it?” I asked him.

“Let

s just say it

s a lot easier when I

m working on someone like you,
Jennifer.
 
This wasn

t difficult at
all.

“Barbara
thought you were going to have to call the Vatican.”

“Not
the case.”

“And
that you were going to have to sandblast me.”

“Unnecessary.”

“That

s because you got lucky,” Blackwell
said.
 
“But I still feel
cheated.
 
If you

d rinsed her hair and face with holy water,
who knows what miracles might have taken place here today?”
 
She saw that I was about to speak and
pushed on before I could.
 
“Naturally, I’m joking.
 
She
looks stunning.
 
You always come
through, Bernie.
 
Was Alex on his
best behavior?”


He was.

“Freshly
cut hair?
 
All cleaned up?”

“You

ll be pleased.”

“Perfect.
 
We

ve
got thirty minutes before the conference, which will be brief.
 
Bernie, thank you again.
 
You know I adore you more than I adore
fasting.
 
Love, love, love.
 
Jennifer?
 
Let

s meet with Alex and Tank, and run through
how this is going to play out.
 
Chance always favors the prepared mind.
 
So, let

s go.”

 
 

*
 
*
 
*

 
 

As
we took the elevator to the forty-seventh floor, my cell dinged in my pants
pocket, indicting that an email had just been received.
 
It could be from Alex, Lisa, or Tank,
but my stomach nevertheless sank when I removed my cell and switched it
on.
 
In my heart, I knew it would be
another threat, if only because it had been announced that morning that we were
back in New York.

I
was right.

I
clicked open my email.
 
I didn

t recognize the address, but the subject
line said it all.
 
“Home so
soon?
 
Dead by two.”

Blackwell
must have seen the expression on my face, because she took my arm.
 
“What is it?” she said.

There
was a file attached.
 
Another
photo?
 
It had to be.
 
I clicked on it and let it load while
the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open at Alex

s floor.
 
The photo was an image of me leaving my
apartment building that morning, head ducked, hoodie covering my face.
 
Across the entire image was a large red
X, beneath which was one word:
 
“DEAD!”

I
felt numb, helpless, and angry when I showed it to Blackwell as we stepped out
of the elevator and into the masculine surroundings that Alex called his own.

“It

s starting again,” I said.
 
“Not even a full day back, and here

s the latest.”

Blackwell
studied the photograph with a grim expression.
 
She then turned off the phone and put
her hand on my back in a comforting gesture.
 
“This will end,” she said.

“One
way or the other, it will.”

“There
are too many people around you for it not to end in your favor.”

“What
would Jack Kennedy say?”

She
looked at me with new eyes that were filled with anxiety and anticipation.

“Obviously,
there aren

t enough men,” I
said.
 
“See how close that photo was
taken?
 
Whoever took it was right
there.
 
What am I to make of that,
Barbara?”

“Jennifer—”

“Just
be honest with me.
 
Am I going to
die?
 
Was Diana

s death an accident?”

The
question caught her off guard.
 
“Diana died in a car accident.”

“So
she did.”

“She
was calling Alex at the time.
 
It
was a mistake.
 
She crossed the
center line.”

“Was
it as innocent as that?”

“All
evidence suggests that

s the
case.
 
There were witnesses.”

“Was
he being threatened at that point?”

Her
face went blank, and I knew it was because she

d never considered the possibility.
 
“That was four years ago.
 
A lifetime ago.”

“Was
he being threatened?”

“Not
that I know of.
 
He would have told
me if that were the case.”

“Are
you sure of that?”

She
didn’t answer.

“Could
there be a link?”


I don’
t know.
 
I

ve never considered it
until now.”

“Maybe
we should.
 
But in private with Tank.
 
Alex must never know that I

ve questioned this.
 
I don

t want to upset him.
 
I just want to consider all angles.”

“You
don

t look well.


I feel faint.

“Hold
on to me.
 
Come on.
 
Wrap your arms around me.
 
That

s right.
 
Just like that.
 
If you need to sit, tell me.
 
Otherwise, I

ve got you.”

I
wasn

t myself.
 
All of this was too much.
 
I didn

t expect it to come back so quickly.
 
I felt weirdly lightheaded.
 

So, I die at
two?”

Her
grip tightened against me.
 
“You
will not die at two.”

“But
that

s what the email
said.
 
Why shouldn

t we believe it?”

“Because
none of that will happen on my watch.
 
You mean too much to me.
 
I
joke with you to lighten the mood.
 
But that

s all
just meant to distract you.
 
You
know how I feel about you.
 
Alex,
Tank, and I will go to the ends of the Earth to protect you.”

“Why
do I feel as if I need more?”
 
I
looked at her.
 
“I

m not whining, Barbara.
 
And I don

t mean to be disrespectful.
 
I

m
just being sensible.
 
This has been
going on for too long.
 
At this
point, you have to agree.
 
It

s inevitable, isn

t it?
 
Someone has it out for me to get to Alex.
 
It

s
just a matter of time before I die.
 
And then they might kill him.
 
They tried to before.”

“That
won’t happen.”

“Can
you guarantee that?”

She
swallowed her response.
 
I saw real
concern on her face before I became quiet.
 
I might die today.
 
It could
happen.
 
I didn

t know why, and I’d probably never
know.
 
They had photographed me and
they had contacted me again.
 
For
whatever reason, I was being targeted.
 
That photo—and the other photos before them—were proof of
that.
 
My time on this Earth was
limited.

“The
press conference is in less than thirty minutes,” Blackwell said.
 
“They sent this to you now so it would
rattle you and Alex.”

“Of
course they did.
 
And I believe they
mean it.”

“They
might, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any precautions we can take.
 
We need to show this to Alex and
Tank.
 
I

m now recommending that you don

t attend
the press conference.”

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