I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (23 page)

"Anna, your mother and I know Janie and Nick are missing. We knew the night they were taken... Janie knew too. She's known all along about you, and that one day this would happen," Jack states, dropping his head in his hands. "We just didn't think it would happen this soon."

Janie. My stomach knots just thinking about her. "Why didn't you say something? I was insane with worry... maybe all of this could have been avoided if I knew about everything… about me," I reply in a shaky voice.  

"We were going to tell you that night, but Valen showed up after it happened. He knew about our family and its lineage. The boy sure did his research," he says with a smile. Really? He won over my parents? "He said he'll explain it to you and guide you to us. We agreed it was better that way."

"Better? Better for whom?" I question, standing up. Martello quickly mirrors me, but reaches out and rests his hand on mine.

"Anna, honey, sit down. None o’ this is easy for anyone an’ you needs your parents’ support, as well as returning the favor. Remember: this ain't a picnic for anyone."

Nothing is worse than trying to prove a point when I’m wrong. Bitterly, I flop down in my seat and close my eyes, hoping the book will magically disappear. When I reopen them, the book and the ugly truth are still staring me right in the face. 

"Honey I know this is unimaginable, but you have to believe in yourself. In order to find Janie, you have to study the book," my mother says softly.

The truth has an annoying way of prevailing over any best kept secret. I can't pretend my sister isn't missing, or deny that evil is camped out on my front lawn. I press hard into the back of the chair, hoping to snap it. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I wish I could protect myself from crumbling under the weight of my newfound life. My brain starts picking up the scattered memories, conversations and occurrences one by one. Little by little, the memories connect, completing a puzzle that eventually led here. Everything makes sense. All the events in my life, have led up to this very moment, and were all precursors to what was fated to come; and now nothing will ever be the same again. That one thought is the hardest for me to accept - that my life is forever changed.

"My goodness, we have some serious research to do," Martello says, as if I'm writing a term paper. He gracefully leans on the table. "You knows, this can work to your advantage. Embrace it, an’ let it guide you," he concludes with a wink.

"What am I supposed to do? Study up on the paranormal? I don't want to be a supernatural phenomenon. I want a normal life. I want to get married, have a house with a white picket fence, and a large yard with tons of children running around. Instead, I'm a freak of nature who’ll never be able to do anything normal," I spit. My selfish words ignore my brain’s filter and burst out of my mouth. Tears burn in the corner of my eyes. I swallow them back, hating myself for acting so self-centered again.

"Honey, maybe one day you will accomplish those dreams, but right now, you need to accept who you are and find Janie," my mother says sternly.

"Mom, I know. It's just a hard pill to swallow." That's a lie. The pill is stuck in my throat, and choking the very life out of me. Change has consistently been a pain in my ass for many reasons, but this one takes the cake.  

"Yes, dear, we know. We're here for you, you know that." She smiles, radiating warmth and security. I wish I could relax in the comfort of her smile.

"We should leave. I need to figure things out." 

With that, Martello stands. We say our goodbyes and I reluctantly grab the oversized handbook on the way out.

"Love you, honey," my mother calls out.

"Love you too," I reply, slamming the door. I don't like to leave mad, but I want to make a point.

"My goodness you’s got a lot goin’ on."

"Don't remind me. My mind is numb," I reply, biting the inside of my cheek, while trying to steady my fluctuating emotions. Yep, it hurts, so I'm not dreaming. "I really don't want to even think about this right now."

"I hears ya. Give it some time to sink in. You'll knows what to do."

I hit the
Unlock
button on my keychain, and listen to the alarm disarm itself with a series of annoying beeps. I fling myself in the driver's seat like a child having a major temper tantrum. Martello slides in the passenger seat and reaches for his earphones, sinking them into his ears. He can be so observant sometimes. The ride off the island is far different than our arrival. I barely notice the sun’s glistening rays bouncing off the water, or the waves’ calming succession. I slam on my gas pedal, determined to burn a trail on the asphalt. On the expressway, my thoughts drive me. One by one, they pass by me like highway exit signs, except I don’t have the luxury of exiting. I can't focus on one thought, yet I’m unable to forget a zillion others. Change is the only distinguishable factor, so I dwell on it. I have existed under a veil of ignorance. Ignoring a basic fact of my life – i.e., things happen, which most of the time are out of my control. I lived my life in repudiation. I refused to believe the unpleasant and obvious, trying to forget that a lot of outside life is ugly.
Enough with the pity party, Anna
. I need to figure out what to do. My obvious next step is to ask Kristy to cover for me at work indefinitely.

"Martello," I say, nudging his arm. He opens his eyes and removes the ear buds.

"Yes, darlin’?"

"I'm going to need your help," I state nervously. "Do you think I should tell Kristy about me?"

"Oh Lordy," he says, rolling his eyes. "That's like tryin’ to convince a preacher to become an atheist. That girl ain't gonna listen to anythin’ we hafta say."

"I know, but I need for her to take over the shop indefinitely." This is going to be tough. "She'll insist on an explanation and I can't lie to her! Plus, what if something else happens?"

"Okay, okay," he surrenders. Lately, it feels like I'm taking everyone hostage. "We can try to explain, but I'm gonna needs a drink," Martello says with a smirk.

I'm relieved that one friend believes in me. Now, I have to figure out how to convince Kristy. I reach in my purse, grabbing my cell phone.

"Who is you callin’?"

"Kristy," I respond, typing in her number. "I'm going to have her meet us at my house. You don't have any plans tonight, do you?"

"Apparently not," he nods, replacing his ear buds.

I hit the
Send
button and after two rings, she picks up. "Kristy, it’s Anna. Are you busy later?"

"Nope."

"Can you come over? I need to talk to you... Martello is here too. Can you close the shop early?"

She pauses. "Um, yeah. Anna, is everything okay?" she hesitates.

"No... Well, yes and no. I can't explain over the phone," I respond with urgency.

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

The line clicks dead and I toss my phone, but miss my purse entirely. It lands on the floor next to Martello's baby pink toenails. I exhale loudly. What's the best way to open the discussion?
Kristy, I'm a witch;
or
Kristy, this book is filled with magical information, want to give it a go?
Like my father said, there's no good way to start. Worry sits as heavy as a brick in my stomach. Kristy's not the average, open-minded person. She denies anything supernatural exists and refuses to discuss ghost stories, which I find odd. Most adults have an addictive fear of them. I remember shrugging it off, thinking everyone has their own tic. A blanket of misery spreads over me. What if I lose my best friend because of this? What if she thinks this is a joke? I breathe deeply, exhaling long and slow. I need to calm my nerves so I can think clearly and act decisively. I nudge Martello again. He turns his head towards me and sighs.

"Martello, how do you think I should go about explaining this?"

"Honey, I has no idea, just say what you knows. She'll believe you. Shoot! I did. Besides, if your family supports us, she won't be able to refuse it for long."

His advice makes me feel worse. I can't blame him. Seriously, how can anyone approach this subject matter gracefully? We both know it’s going to be hard, if not impossible. I reach for the radio to turn up the volume, submerging my dazed thoughts into the beat. My body relaxes, flushing out any remaining tension. My mind soars inwardly, in search of another world.

I pull into my driveway without the slightest clue of how to articulate my new life to Kristy. My body must’ve lapsed into autopilot, given that I don't remember walking into my kitchen.

"Girl, where is your vodka?" Martello asks, rooting through my cabinets. He turns to me, waiting for an answer. "By the looks of it, you needs one too."

"I'll get it," I say eagerly. I have too much anxiety to stand around and stew. I walk to the freezer, pulling out the one thing that has helped me through many hard times. I place it on the table along with orange juice and glasses.

"Pour me one please. I'm going to change."

"You gots it."

I leave Martello to do what he does best as I clamber upstairs. My knees buckle a little, forcing me to grab the handrail. I press down on the wood, listening to each step's unique chorus of creaks and moans. I used to love this historical chant, but lately, it just freaks me out. I hurry into my room, throwing my clothes on the ground and changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants. I quickly throw my hair in a loose ponytail and pin my bangs back with a clip. I slide my feet into my slippers before heading back downstairs. Martello is sitting at my table, taking a long chug from his glass.

"Yours is there," he says, pointing to the full cup sitting in front of an empty chair across from him.

I sit down, reach for the glass and start chugging it. I would have finished it had Martello not jumped up and pried it out of my hand.

"Slow down, woman. You needs to be coherent an’ not lookin’ like a crazy drunk when tryin’ to explain this heavy shit," he demands, easing himself back into his chair with a look of annoyance.

I focus my gaze on the table, embarrassed. "I'm trying to take the edge off," I answer sheepishly.

"Looks like you's tryin’ to take off more than that."

Before I have the chance to argue, the front door swings open and a frantic Kristy storms in. She runs over and hugs me so tightly, she steals my breath. "Oh my God, are you okay?" she inquires, not releasing her grip.

"Kristy, I'm fine," I respond, unhooking her arms from around my neck. "I can’t breathe," I smile.

"Sorry," she says letting go. She looks at Martello, who's suddenly interested in his drink again. “Hey.”

“Hey girl,” he responds shortly.

Kristy lets her purse slide off her shoulder onto the floor. She unzips her sweatshirt in one swift motion, hanging it off the back of the chair she sits down in. She looks at me, waiting for an explanation.

I sigh. "I have to tell you something... important," I start, nervously fidgeting with my hands. "You have to promise me you won't think I'm crazy, okay?" I ask her. My assertive sentence unexpectedly turns into a question.

"I will. Just tell me."

I take a deep breath, gather my thoughts together and embark on my story. I begin with my weird, unexplainable childhood quirks and nightmares. I brush over this, not wanting to dive into the depths of it tonight. I tell her about my first physical muscle spasm and why it happened. As soon as I began talking, stories flow out of me like a burst water pipe, spraying tons of anecdotes everywhere. I study her reaction, flinching when I see a look of disbelief, or nervous shifts in weight. I continue, explaining Valen’s appearance, the creature I was chased by, and where Janie and Nick were taken. The subject of Shane is briefly glazed over, but more for warning purposes. I finally conclude with my family and the
Book of Worlds
. Shock registers on Kristy's face, as expected. I stand, grabbing the book from the counter and placing it softly in front of her. "I know this seems imaginary and you probably think I'm insane, but it's all in here," I say, indicating the book.