Annihilate Me (Vol. 4) (The Annihilate Me Series) (14 page)

I
was wearing a gorgeous, backless, three-quarter sleeve evening gown from Marc
Jacobs that featured a bateau neckline and allover-brushed metal sequin
accents.
 

The
color was steel gray with a bluish tint.
 
Sapphires were at my ears and at my throat.
 
My hands and wrists were free of
jewelry, save for my engagement ring.
 

Bernie
had flat-ironed my hair and parted it slightly on the side so it hung behind my
ears and dropped straight down my back.
 
What they could do to me always surprised me.
 
Each time was different.
 
When they had their way with me, I never
quite looked like myself, which I kind of liked.
 
It was like being an actress, these
various versions of who I could become.

“I
love it,” I said, trying to rise above the nerves that were threading through
me.
 
“Thank you so much.”

“
You look
beautiful, Jennifer,
”
Bernie
said.
 
“And in such an unforgiving dress.
 
If you weren
’
t in great shape, that dress would be a
disaster.”

“I
guess all that time spent swimming on the island didn
’
t hurt.
”

“It
certainly didn
’
t,”
Blackwell said, coming around and looking at me.
 
“I
’
ve
got to hand it to you.
 
Very few
people could pull this dress off.
 
I
think this is the best yet.”

“You
keep saying that.”

“That
’
s because Bernie and I keep trying to top
ourselves.
 
A couple of
over-achievers, that
’
s who we
are, Bernie.”

“I
’
ve been called worse.”

“I
think everyone in this room can imagine some of the things I
’
ve been called.”

I
coughed.

“That
’
s enough, Jennifer.”

“Just
something in my throat.
 
Sorry.”

“I
’
ll bet.
”
 
She narrowed her eyes at me, and then she gave me an air kiss on each
cheek.
 
“You
’
ll be fine tonight.”

“
Will I?
”

“You
will.
 
You
’
ve got your phone?”

I
lifted my clutch off the table beside me.
 
“I do now.”

“And
you
’
re clear on all
instructions to follow in case anything should happen?”

“I
am.”

“I
know this isn
’
t easy for you or
Alex.
 
I want it over for you as
much as you do.
 
So does
Bernie.
 
We
’
re all hoping that tonight
’
s the night.
 
We need to get the bastard who
’
s behind this—or the bitch, in this
case, if she is involved—and burn them alive for what they
’
ve done to you two.
 
I
’
ll
be happy to light the first match.”

“And
take that pleasure away from me?” I said.

“Then
allow me the second.”

“How
about if you pour the gasoline on them?
 
Alex might want that second match.”

“
Done.
”

“Do
I get a match?”
Bernie asked.

I
reached over and kissed him on the
cheek.
 
“Of course you do.”

“Because
I have to tell you ladies that when I was young?
 
Back in the day?
 
This bitch could light a fire—and
snatch a queen bald.”

“
Bernie!
” Blackwell said.

“
Well, it
’s true.
”

“Good
for you,” I said.

“One
does have to know how to protect oneself,” he said.
 
“And I
’
m here to hand it to you, Jennifer.
 
You
’
ve done a marvelous job at protecting
yourself and Alex.
 
Tonight may or
may not be another test.
 
I guess we
’
ll see.”

“I
guess we will,” I agreed.

“So,”
Blackwell said.
 
“Off we go to Alex.
 
He
’
ll
be waiting.
 
You
’
re to be there by eight.”

All
day long, I’d been waiting for her to bring up the one thing she had promised
to do that morning—call the reporters and photographers who came to
yesterday’s press conference.
 
She
had told me that she planned to ask them directly if they’d gone to my
apartment to photograph me, and if they had, if they found anyone unusual in
the crowd when they went through their photos.

“So?”
I said when I asked her.

She
held my eyes with her own.
 
“Nothing,” she said.

“Not
even the
Post
?”

“Not
even the
Post
.
 
I’m sorry,
Jennifer.”

I
looked at myself once more in the mirror and, determined to overcome my
disappointment, I said, “Let
’
s go.”

*
 
*
 
*

When
the elevator doors opened, Alex was there waiting for me.
 
I remembered the days when I
’
d arrive to find him with his hands casually
in his pockets and a grin upon his face, but not now.
 
He was trying to hide it, but at this
point, I knew him too well.
 
He was
as tense as I was.

“You
look lovely,” he said.

I
stepped out and kissed him.
 
“And
you are as handsome as ever.”

“That
’
s some dress.”

“You
like it?”

“What
man wouldn’t?
 
Once again, I
’
ll be the luckiest guy in Manhattan.”

“And
look at me—I’m the luckiest girl.”

When
I said that, something on my face or in my eyes must have betrayed how I really
felt, because Alex pulled me to him.

“We
’
re going to get through this, Jennifer.”

“I
know we are.
 
It
’
s the ‘how
’
that worries me.
 
Each time I step out in public like
this, I feel as if it might be the last time.”

He
moved to speak, but then he stopped himself and didn
’
t respond.
 
What could he say after all that we
’
d been through?
 
At that moment, I
regretted
saying anything because I didn
’
t want to concern him more than he already
was.
 
So, I did what I
’
d planned to do all day.
 
I pulled my phone out of my clutch, I switched
it on, and the song I
’
d
pre-loaded popped up on the screen.

I
pressed ‘play,’ and Chopin
’
s “
Waltz in C
Sharp Minor
” began.
 
I put the phone and my clutch down on a
side table and looked at Alex.
 
“I
know the music sounds tinny through those speakers, but I was wondering if you
’
d dance with me before we left?”

“You
always surprise me.”

“Please,
dance with me.
 
I want to hold you
and dance with you before we leave tonight.”

He
came over to me, and we started to waltz, and as we did, I could feel all of
the worry thrumming through us, all of the love searing between us, and all of
the questions we couldn
’
t seem
to answer.
 
But we were determined
to answer those questions soon by setting off a series of events that hopefully
would set the traps that would lead the rat to us.
 

Alex
spun me around lightly and kissed me on the neck fleetingly, and I kept in time
with him as we danced, enjoying this moment for all that it was worth before we
left for more of the unknown.
 

*
 
*
 
*

When
we arrived at Peachy
’
s via
one of Alex
’
s bulletproof limousines,
the lines of traffic leading up to her and her husband Robert
’
s home seemed endless.
 
Ahead of us, I could see explosions of
light along the sidewalk, which meant that the paparazzi were there.

And
maybe the rat.

Along
with two members of his security detail, Tank already was inside on the second
floor in a room tricked out with surveillance equipment.
 
There, the crowd would be monitored via
dozens of hidden cameras as they entered the mansion and moved to the second
level.

Tank’s
plan was solid yet simple—he wanted to see if anyone would send us a
defaced photograph taken from tonight’s party.
 
If that happened, he and his team would
know from the photograph where we were standing when it was taken.
 
With that information, they could study
the tapes and reveal the picture taker’s identity.
 
The police would be given the evidence,
and the suspect would be arrested and taken in for questioning.

Since
Adrianna Bomba was on the shortlist of those who might be behind this, Alex and
I were to approach her tonight, provoke her—and see what happened when we
did.
 
Would she or someone with her
take our photograph?
 
If they did,
would we be sent that photograph along with a threatening email?
 
If we were, it could end this.

When
it was our turn to exit the car, I took Alex
’
s hand and recalled what he once said to me
on the island.
 
In case anything
happened to us on the sidewalk, I wanted him to know that I felt the same.
 
“You
’
re the love of my life,” I said.
 
“If anything should happen tonight, you
need to know that.”

“Nothing’s
going to happen, but thank you.
 
You
don’t know how much that means to me.
 
And you already know that I feel the same.”

And
he did—the truth was on his face and in his eyes.
 
I reached out my hand and held it
against the side of his face.
 
“So
we do this?”

“Oh,
yeah.
 
We do this.”

“I’m
worried about being out in the open on the sidewalk.
 
T
he paparazzi
are going to expect us to stand still for a
moment so they can take our photographs, or we’ll get
booed.
 
But what if someone else is in the crowd?
 
Someone who isn’t one of them?

Two
men were in the car with us, each a member of Tank’s security team—one
drove, the other was in the passenger seat.
 
The one in the passenger seat turned to
me.

“Here’s
how it will play out, Jennifer,” he said.
 
“Mike and I will get out, and we’ll monitor the crowd.
 
Then you’ll see me nod at you when it’s
safe for you to join us.
 
Ms. Van
Prout also has security cameras concealed outside.
 
I’ve notified Tank that we’re here, and
he’s watching.
 
I won’t nod to you
until I’m sure that you’ll be safe.
 
But let’s make this as brief as possible.
 
Just a few photographs, then we go
inside.”

“Thank
you,” Alex said.

The
men stepped out.
 
I watched them
scan the crowd through my tinted window and I felt my stomach sink at the
thought of what might happen.
 
When
the nod came, the man named Mike opened my door and allowed me to step out, and
then Alex quickly followed.