When I'm Gone: A Novel (24 page)

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for telling me your story.”

Luke closed his eyes, a new emotion pushing against his mind. Maybe it was regret. Or was it relief?

“You’re welcome,” he said simply. Without waiting to hear her response, he checked the door to make sure it was closed all the way before turning the dead bolt. When the lock clicked into place, he did the same with the lock on the knob and then on the door to the garage. He may not have been able to keep his mother safe from his father or Natalie safe from cancer, but he was sure as hell going to keep Annie safe under his own roof. Rechecking the lock one last time, Luke continued on his way upstairs.

Quickly closing his bedroom door, he rushed over to the tall dresser at the foot of his bed. Sliding the top drawer open, he shuffled through the piles of shirts and underwear until he found a stack of old receipts and business cards. On the top was the plain white card he’d gotten in the mail a few weeks ago:

Dennis Bormet, Tanglewood Securities.

CHAPTER 24

Luke woke with a start. The sun was already shining high enough through his bedroom window to make him check the time. Ten thirty a.m. Great. The events of the past twenty-four hours flooded back to him, and he shot up in bed. Annie was probably awake downstairs, wondering where he was. He threw back the thin blue blanket and searched the room for his robe. It had been a long time since he’d made the effort to put it on, but this seemed like a robe moment. Just as he spotted the fuzzy blue fabric peeking out from behind a pile of clean folded towels he’d been meaning to put away for the past two weeks, the doorbell rang.

The first name that came to his mind was Brian. How did he know Annie was here? Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was searching for her. If that was the case, then Luke should be the one to open the door, avoid any kind of contact between Annie and Brian. He freed the robe with one hard yank, toppling the tower of clean towels in the process, and forced his arms in the sleeves. When he opened his bedroom door, a familiar voice echoed up toward him. Not Brian—Felicity.

“Hi, I’m looking for Luke Richardson. I’m sorry; maybe I have the wrong house.” Felicity’s voice was unmistakable.

“No, you’re in the right place,” Annie chirped back as Luke rounded the corner. Through the oak banister he could see Annie, drowning in the gray T-shirt and green plaid pants he’d given to her last night. She held the front door open wide, welcoming Felicity in.

“Uh, thank you.” Felicity’s voice turned up at the end, full of questions. “I’m sorry, I missed your name.”

“I’m Annie,” she responded.

“Oh. Annie . . .” Felicity said, slowly like she had finally remembered the answer to a difficult exam question.

Luke cleared his throat as his bare feet landed on the floor, the wood planks warmed by the sun shining in through the front door.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” Annie laughed. Even after surviving the terror of last night and sleeping on his couch, she looked brighter this morning. He’d never seen her without makeup, but her skin had a creamy texture that made him wonder why she ever took the time to put on makeup. Even the scratches on her face looked like they’d been applied by a paintbrush. “He honestly just got up,” Annie was explaining.

Felicity didn’t seem to find the situation funny. She held her phone in one hand and played with the broken corner of the cover nervously, hair up in a tight ponytail, wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a white transparent shirt flowing over a long tank top of the same color. Luke knew what this looked like. Damn it.

“Sorry, I guess I was tired.”

“Long night?” Felicity asked pointedly, glancing between Annie and Luke and their unintentionally matching shirts. “I’m sorry I woke you. I was worried when you didn’t respond to any of my texts, so I thought I’d come over and make sure the
emergency
”—she stressed the word, shifting her gaze to Annie—“went all right. You both seem fine, so I think I’ll go.”

“Oh . . .
Oh!
You are Felicity. Will’s guidance counselor.” Annie raised her eyebrows at Luke.

“Yes, she is. Felicity, this is Annie. She watches Clayton while the kids are at school.”

“Natalie’s best friend,” Annie said, extending a hand. Felicity shook it briefly. “This is not what it looks like.”

“No, not at all,” Luke reinforced, glad Annie finally caught on. Felicity crossed her right leg behind her. For the first time since Luke had met her, she wasn’t wearing heels. Seeing her in a pair of drugstore flip-flops seemed so foreign and made her look more vulnerable.

“A pipe burst in my house, and everything flooded. My husband”—Annie lingered on the word—“is a police officer and couldn’t get home to help me, so I called Luke. I’m so sorry if I interrupted something.” Annie slapped Luke’s arm. “Hey, next time tell me you are out on a date.”

He wasn’t sure the playful touching was the best choice at the moment. At least the tone of the conversation changed dramatically. Felicity took another long look at Annie as though she was using her finely honed tools for uncovering deception in teenagers on the two of them.

“Hey, it’s none of my business.” She pressed her phone back into the purse resting on her hip and took out a set of keys, not buying it. “I’d better get going. Enjoy your breakfast; the bacon smells delicious.” Luke had been too distracted by the confrontation to notice the mouthwatering scent hanging in the air. Felicity turned and headed down the front path toward the green Nissan in the driveway.

“Go after her,” Annie urged, gesturing with her eyes. “Go.”

Luke pulled back his shoulders, unsure if he wanted to follow. He didn’t want to hurt Felicity, and he definitely didn’t want things to be awkward between them during the next school year. At the same time, he still wasn’t sure he wanted to define a relationship with her. Annie poked his shoulder and pointed her head out the door.

“Fine.” Luke rushed out of the house, calling after Felicity. She stopped but didn’t turn around.

“Let me go, okay? I have no right to be upset. We’ve been on two and a half dates, held hands a few times, and had one semiawkward good-night hug. I’m about twenty thousand miles away from being your girlfriend. I have no right to judge you.” She adjusted the leather purse strap on her shoulder. She was using her best counselor voice. Her calm justifications made him feel worse.

“She really is just a friend, I promise.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned around and looked up at Luke, her green eyes flashing. “But when she called, you answered. I was worried about you, Luke. You didn’t respond to a single one of my texts last night or this morning. Did you even
think
about calling me?”

Luke opened his mouth but couldn’t put a sentence together that made sense. He had checked his phone and seen Felicity’s texts before he drove Annie home, but he hadn’t even picked his phone up since he walked in his own door. Felicity was right. Since Annie’s first desperate text, every thought in his brain was for her.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She lifted the thick trail of hair cascading down from her ponytail off her neck like she was searching for a breeze. She dropped it and readjusted her purse again. “I really don’t think you’re ready for something outside of Natalie’s shadow. For now, that’s Annie.”

“I do like you, Felicity. I admire how much you care about the kids you work with, and you make me laugh when we are together.” He blushed, feeling like the words were tripping out of his mouth into a mound of embarrassing mush.

“But . . . ,” she added before he had the chance to say the word himself, “you aren’t ready.”

As hard as it was to do, he shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, I know.” She reached out and gave his hand one quick squeeze. “Give me a call when you are; maybe we can try this again.”

“I will.” He squeezed back and let go. He watched her walk away without any urge to stop her.

Luke waited until Felicity drove away to return to the house. The sun warmed his shoulders through the robe, the thin shirt underneath clinging to his chest and torso. Annie’s matching shirt was two sizes smaller and still hung off her as if she was a little girl wearing her father’s clothes.

Annie. It was embarrassing how easily his thoughts turned to her. It was like his world was swirling around one spot lately, and he wasn’t sure if it was the gentle tug of gravity or the dangerous currents of a whirlpool. The only thing he was sure of was who was at the center of that spiral.

When he crossed the threshold of the front door, the coolness of the AC and lingering scent of bacon made him smile. His house felt like home with Annie inside it. He couldn’t decide if she was part of Natalie’s “shadow,” as Felicity suggested, or if he was feeling something new and real. Today wasn’t the right time to delve into those questions. Today it was time to help her start a life free from abuse, and he was relieved she finally was going to let him.

“You ready for breakfast?” Annie called from the kitchen. When he entered the kitchen, Annie approached him with two plates in her hands, both completely full of bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs. She placed them on the counter in front of the stools on the opposite side.

“I didn’t know I had bacon,” Luke said, slipping into one of the seats. Annie slid a full glass of orange juice in front of him. “Or juice. Did you go shopping?”

“Yeah, wearing this superstylish outfit.” She gestured to the baggy loungewear. “No. You had all this stuff in your fridge. All the dates check out. The juice is concentrate from the freezer. Remember, I cleaned out your fridge a few weeks ago; I know where stuff is.”

Luke stabbed a few egg chunks and shoveled them into his mouth. When he swallowed the first bite, his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten for almost sixteen hours, and the taste of food woke up his taste buds and made him more hungry rather than less. By the time Annie climbed on the stool beside him, Luke’s plate was half-empty.

“So, you clear things up with Ms. Mason?”

“I think Felicity believed me when I told her you and I aren’t having a torrid love affair.” Luke tried to make it a joke. “But we decided to take a break from the dating thing.”

Annie’s eyebrows shot up, the one with a scratch through it wrinkling unevenly. “What? Why?”

Luke put down his fork. “She thinks it’s too soon, that I’m not ready.” He stared at his plate full of food and remembered the last time Annie had been in his house for a midday breakfast was the day after Natalie’s funeral. “Maybe she’s right.”

“Hmm.” Annie’s mouth was full of toast, but it seemed like a convenient excuse to keep mum about what she was really thinking.

Luke took another bite of eggs, and a silence settled between them. They had so many things they needed to talk about, but he didn’t know how to start.

He wanted to ask, “What now?” Did they go over to Annie’s house and pack up all her belongings? Should he take her to a women’s shelter, or should she stay in a hotel or spend another night on his couch? How could he face Brian now, knowing . . . everything?

Annie’s cell phone rang, cutting through the silence and through Luke’s thoughts. The vibrations were muffled by one of the couch cushions. Annie jumped off her stool, the fork clattering on the counter, spraying egg residue on the granite surface. Once her phone was in her hand, she stared at it.

“Is it him?”

She nodded. Of course it was Brian. Who else would make her turn white as the phone in her hand? Annie mashed the power button on the top of her phone, silencing it, and dropped it on the couch. She covered her face with shaking hands, her shoulders heaving up and down.

Luke shoved away from the counter. His bare feet were silent on the tile floor, and Annie jumped a little when he put his arm around her. At his touch she turned in to him, pressing her face against his shoulder and encircling his midsection with her arms. Working on their own volition, Luke’s arms enfolded her protectively, pulling her in tightly against him.

It was a strange feeling holding someone this close to him again. Physical closeness with anyone but Natalie had always made Luke uncomfortable, nervous, but with Annie in his arms, it felt right. Her tears gathered in the fabric of his shirt, soaking in like rain into spring soil. With a light touch he ran a hand over her back, wanting to comfort her, wishing he could take away her pain.

“I can answer next time.” He kissed the top of her head. “You never have to talk to him again.”

Annie’s arms went limp, releasing from behind his back. An embarrassed heat crawled up Luke’s neck and made his ears ring. He’d gone too far too fast. Touched her too easily, comforted her too aggressively. Luke cleared his throat and backed away, staring at his big toe instead of daring to see the look on Annie’s face.

“I’m going home,” Annie said. “That call was to tell me he’s on his way.”

“What?” Luke blinked rapidly.

She put the phone in the pocket of her flannel pants. “I threw away my clothes. They were beyond saving. Can I wear these home?” she asked, gesturing to the borrowed clothing she was wearing.

“You’re going
back
?” Luke asked, ignoring Annie’s question. She folded her arms across her chest and pulled at the hem of her shirt.

“It was a stupid fight. He . . . he wasn’t feeling well. He . . .”

“He was on pills, Annie. I saw them. Pills and booze. Stop covering for him.”

“It’s the alcohol. I know it is. It changes him. And he takes the pills to calm down. He’s going to get treatment. He promised.” Annie twisted a gray string around her finger from the hem of her shirt. “He never laid a hand on me until Matt left.”

Luke could barely breathe. No one goes from “wonderful husband” to “heinous abuser” in one fell swoop. But he wasn’t going to argue about her honesty because if she was anything like his mother, hiding was easier than truth. Pacifying the monster inside her husband was easier than slaying it.

“Annie,” he said softly, biting back any kind of judgmental tone, “how will he get treatment when he doesn’t want anyone to know about his problem?”

“I don’t know; I . . . I don’t see any other options.” She looked up at him with half-squinted eyes. “Where would I go?”

“A shelter,” Luke interjected. “Or I could take you somewhere far away. You could hide. You could . . .”

“No,” Annie said, slashing her hand through the air. “He’d find me. You know he would.”

“Since when is that a reason to stay with someone who is hurting you?” Luke lost his nonchalant air, tapping his head like he couldn’t figure out a math problem.

“You don’t understand,” she bit back. “You can’t. What you had with Natalie, I don’t have that, okay? I don’t get to have someone who loves me, cherishes me. I’ve come to accept it. If I leave with you, he won’t stop at hurting me; he’d hurt you and your family. I can’t accept that.”

Luke shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. A panic-filled fury filled him. He forgot restraint and lunged forward, grabbing Annie’s arms, firm but gentle. She looked up into his face, eyebrows raised in surprise but not fear.

“You can’t go back. I won’t let you.” His voice caught in his throat. “You shouldn’t have to live this way.”