Phoenix (22 page)

“I don’t think that’s why he picked it.”

“You have no idea why he picked it,” Caroline snapped, her discomfort bizarrely replaced by anger. “You don’t know anything about either one of us.”

“I know more about you than you think.”

What an arrogant thing to say. “No, you don’t,” Caroline said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have made me do this little exercise. Do you know how much it hurt me to watch that video? Do you even care? No, because all you care about is convincing me that I can snap my fingers and go back to the normal, benign person I used to be. The one who didn’t scare the crap out of people. I can’t be her, all right? Stop wasting your fucking time.”

Natalie’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I was hoping the video would help. To remind you that you’re a woman with worth and value, not this hollow being you think you are. I didn’t realize it would upset you this much.”

Dr. Haddad seemed almost as clueless as the man who gave her orders. “Well, it did,” Caroline said. “You think a few weeks in a psychiatric residency makes you qualified to take me on? I bet you’re dying to try out every little theory you’ve found in all those stupid books you read so you can go running to Jack, telling him that you fixed me so he can do whatever he does to reward people who impress him. You have no concept of what it might be doing to me. How do you know you’re not fucking me up even more?”

Natalie stared down at her desk. “I hope that’s not what I’m doing.”

The doctor knew exactly what the fuck she was doing. Caroline had finally figured that out. “You think I don’t remember giving that speech?” she asked. “I remember every minute of that summer, every campaign stop, every conversation I had, every precious moment I spent with Chrissy and Jack. And you know what? Watching that speech reminds me that I wasn’t anyone to take even remotely seriously. Making insipid jokes like a fucking court jester, trying to convince people that I was sincere, practically pleading for them to like me. I was a buffoon. A caricature. A hopeless, piteous wannabe player who could never really hang with the big boys. More laughable than intimidating, more impulsive than insightful. Who I was then might be worse than what I am now.”

“You don’t believe that.” Natalie sounded as upset as she looked. “What a dreadful way to describe yourself.”

She didn’t care about this doctor’s opinion anymore. “And here you are, Little Miss ‘please like me, Caroline,’ ‘please let me help you,’ ‘I think you’re awesome,’ ‘your speech changed my life,’ and on and on with you. You’re a fucking joke too. You think I’m going to be your friend? You think Jack and I are going to magically become the parental figures you left behind? You think you can fix me? No one can fix me. Do us both a favor and go tell Jack to kick me out now.”

Natalie was on the verge of tears. “Caroline, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

Caroline stood up and spun around to face Natalie, who was making no secret of the fact that she was crying. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. Stop with the fucking trips down memory lane and tell Jack to get the inevitable over with. I’m going to my apartment to pack.”

Natalie followed her toward the door. “Caroline, wait-”

She wasn’t in the mood to do anything except hightail it out of there. “Sorry, Dr. Haddad. You’d better stick to the simple shit for now. Because you can’t handle anything difficult.” Caroline slammed the door behind her as hard as she could, hearing the window pane crack, laughing as she walked down the hall and out of the building.

Caroline sat on her couch, rubbing her wrists. It was a hot August day and the air conditioning on the base was spotty. Normally she’d sweat through anything but when she was alone she forced herself to look at her bare arms, to train herself to stop reacting. To keep herself from giving in to the despair. Her wrists were red but no longer raw from the injuries she’d received after her arrest. She tried not to think about it.

What the fuck was wrong with her? For the past half an hour she’d been telling herself to suck it up and go back to therapy, to apologize, to fix the damage she’d done. That was all she seemed capable of lately. Fucking things up. Maybe that was all she knew how to do. It was why she was better off alone. Less collateral damage that way.

She heard a loud series of knocks at the door. It wouldn’t be Natalie. Not after she’d raked her over the coals. Which meant it could only be one other person. Caroline looked through the peephole and cursed.

“I know you’re in there,” Jack said. “Open the door before I break it down.”

She cursed again before opening the door. Jack stepped into her apartment.

“May I come in?” he asked.

So polite yet so incredibly angry. She was really in for it now. “Since you’re already here, I guess so.”

He glanced at her wrists and grew pale. “Do you need a minute?”

Defensiveness was the order of the day. He’d leave faster. “I don’t care if you’re uncomfortable. Maybe I should always wear short sleeves. It might keep more people away.”

“It’s not that, I-”

“I know why you’re here.”

Jack returned her stare. “You think it’s a good idea to keep pushing away one of the people who genuinely wants to help you?”

If it means I stop hurting them, yes.
The lies flowed like water, splashing over whatever rocks had gathered in her path. “Natalie doesn’t care about me. She wants to prove something to you, or to her parents, or to the world. I’m a bump in the road to wherever her little ambitious self wants to go.”

“No, you’re not. And that’s not who she is, either.” His expression softened. “May I sit down? I’ve had a stressful afternoon.”

Caroline gestured toward the spot she’d vacated on the couch. “Fine with me. You’re not staying long, so don’t get cozy.” Against her better judgment, she sat on the couch next to him, although a good foot of space remained in between them. Jack continued to stare at her arms.

“Your wrists are still red,” he said.

She spent enough time memorizing her many scars. She didn’t need him to be hung up on them too. “I don’t heal very quickly.”

“I remember. Do they hurt?”

Caroline rubbed her arms. “Emotionally or physically?”

He frowned. “Both, I guess.”

“I have no physical pain.” Jack clenched his hands but didn’t say anything. She lifted up one wrist. “These old scars are ugly, aren’t they? Want to know how I got them?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “If you want to tell me.”

“Too bad for you, I don’t. I thought I’d tease you a little.”

Jack motioned toward the crudely tattooed numbers on her arm. “Did that – did it hurt when they did that?”

“I was unconscious. I don’t remember.”

He winced and turned away from her.

“It would have been nicer if they’d used a stencil or a pattern or something,” Caroline said absently. “Then I wouldn’t have literally looked like I’d just been liberated from Auschwitz when I got here.”

He cringed again. “You really think that would have made a difference?”

“No,” she said. “I was merely making conversation.”

“Your definition of scintillating wit has changed over the past year or so.”

She shrugged. “Sorry if I can’t entertain you anymore.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair. Her forced nonchalance was driving him nuts. “I came to talk about what happened today,” he said.

“She went running to you right after I left, didn’t she?”

“Considering that she was hyperventilating on the phone, I think she called my number as soon as you were gone.”

Everyone who was required to interact with her probably had her husband on speed dial. “I bet you were right there to comfort her too.”

“Caroline, please. We need to work through this. Don’t be so defensive.”

He was one to talk. And how dare he make accurate observations. “Oh yeah, talking about today’s therapy session with Dr. Happy Go Lucky is going to keep me from being defensive.”

“She was incredibly upset when she called me. She thinks she’s screwed everything up.”

“How disappointing for her. She’ll never get a promotion if she keeps fucking around.”

“That is not why she was upset and you know it.”

Jesus Christ, had he insinuated himself into Natalie’s life too? “Did you tell her to make me watch that video?”

“What video?”

Her question had clearly caught him by surprise. Interesting. “Of me giving that stupid lovey dovey speech in Pittsburgh right before the end of the summer portion of your gubernatorial campaign. She said it was your favorite. How predictable.”

His eyes were bright. “You watched it? The whole thing?”

“Mostly Christine’s intro and my speech. Natalie stopped when it got to you.”

“You were a tough act to follow. My part of the presentation was terrible.”

“She shouldn’t have done it. Was it your idea?”

“Of course not, Caroline. I’m not the one directing your therapy sessions. Dr. Haddad is.”

Did he think she was naïve enough to buy that line? “She’s doing a bang up job, too.”

“That’s why you exploded at her? Because she made you think about something happy?”

She needed him to leave. Soon. “It was a bullshit move. She did it because of you.”

Jack shook his head. “God forbid you remember what an absurdly supportive wife you were. What a marvelous woman you still are.”

Oh, please. He was trying too hard. “Whatever.”

“You’re mad because that video got to you,” he said. “
She
got to you.”

“She did not.”

“You’re also mad because she obviously cares about you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about it. You know how she feels. How I feel.”

She’d already slayed her therapist. Maybe she could do the same to her husband. Two intrusive birds with one emotional stone. “How
do
you feel, Jack?” she asked.

“I love you, Caroline. You get your jollies from forcing me to say it when I know damn well you aren’t going to say it back.”

“Poor Jack has hurt feelings? Aw, too bad.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and Caroline smiled. “You want to smack the hell out of me right now. Too bad you don’t have the guts to do it.”

“You think I don’t?” He leaned over until their noses were touching, and she flinched. “But that’s what you want for whatever twisted reason, and I’m not going to do it. You can stop playing your little games.”

Caroline pushed him away from her. He was close enough that she could practically hear his heart beating. Far too close for her taste. “Fuck you.”

His lips turned up slightly. Dammit, he was entirely too satisfied by her startled reaction. “You can mask your emotions all you want,” he said. “You can’t put one over on me, Gerard. You never could. It’s okay to admit how much you miss me.”

She jumped up from the couch. “Get the fuck over yourself. Jesus.”

Jack crossed his arms. “You don’t want to feel anything, do you? Except anger. Anger is easy. Detachment is easier. Your best friend taught you that. You picked a great way to honor her memory.”

Oh, fuck him. “Don’t you dare mention Christine to me. You don’t get to talk about her.”

He stood up, giving her a contemptuous glance. “Why? Because it hurts you? Welcome to the club. You can’t say hurtful things and expect people not to respond. You don’t get to take advantage of me anymore.”

That didn’t sound good at all. “So you’re going to be an asshole to me from now on?”

Jack relaxed his posture. “No, Caroline,” he said quietly. “I’m not. I know what you’re doing and it isn’t going to work. You’re trying to bait me into hurting you and I won’t. You’re scared. You’ve lost your ability to trust people, to trust in yourself. But you can’t hide who you really are. You let your guard down and we’re reminded of who you used to be, and then you get fearful and retreat again.”

What sparkling analysis. “You’re a wannabe psychiatrist too? Maybe you should be the one conducting these sessions.”

Jack tried not to laugh. “That might be even more of a disaster than you’ve already made it. But I know you better than anyone else here and that frightens the hell out of you. I know all your secrets, all your fears, all your desires. You’re terrified of letting anyone in, especially me. You thought you were safe coming to California with those men, who were content to leave you alone and not challenge you. You didn’t expect to find me. You thought you’d never have to face any of this, that you could shove it all inside you. You can’t. Dealing with me, fighting for me, or loving me scares the shit out of you.”

He needed to shut up. Or leave her the fuck alone. “I want you out of here,” Caroline said. “Now.”

“I’m not leaving,” he retorted. “And you’re not running away from this facility either, no matter what you told Natalie.”

“You’re going to stop me?”

“I am the commander of this operation and you are going to listen to me. You are not permitted to walk off this base. Do you have any idea how much danger you would face if you left? A single bounty hunter or spy recognizes you and you are on the first train back to D.C. No activists or former public officials are safe and you are the biggest catch of them all, even though they think they killed you. The financial rewards are too great for people to have any sense of right or wrong anymore. I would think you would never want to go anywhere where you could run the risk of being arrested, at least not without significant protection. Can you imagine what they would do to you if they knew you were still alive?” Jack gave her a hard look. “Unless you’ve become a masochist. Do you want to go back there?”

He’d all but stopped using contractions, which meant he was mad. But she was madder, unable to do anything other than curse at him again. “Fuck you.”

“That’s good. Get angry. Stay angry. You’re angry at me all the time anyway.”

“It’s pretty easy. You’re a fucking asshole. Always have been.”

“That’s true. And you always called me out on it. Sometimes even in public.”

He picked a hell of a time to be self-deprecating. “I was trying to do the world a favor.”

“Do you know why I chose that speech?” he asked. “When I first got here I was a wreck. It gave me peace to find footage of you from before everything happened. Some of the most wonderful moments we spent together were during that campaign.” He smiled. “Do you remember?”

She wanted to wipe that swaggering little smile off his face. “No.”

His expression remained unchanged. “Yes, you do. The public adored you. You were so charismatic and engaging, but none of it was manufactured. You were genuine and they loved you for it. They knew you were a real person. Someone they could relate to.”

He was lying. Why was everyone lying about who she used to be? “I don’t want to talk about this,” Caroline said, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I do. Because that’s who you are at your core. You’ll always be that woman even if you think she’s been destroyed.”

Why did he have to keep reminding her of how much things had changed? “Stop it, Jack. Stop trying to butter me up. I want to leave. I can’t stand it here.”

“I told you. You are not allowed to leave. You’d be dead or in jail before you even got anywhere near the Canadian border. Abandon that plan now.” He gave her a stern look. “If I have to lock you in here and keep a guard at your door 24/7, I will.”

“Don’t forget about the windows.”

“You’d really jump down three stories to escape?”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Jack marched toward her. “I know exactly what you’re capable of. Except you think that none of it is good.”

She took a step back. “Stay away from me.”

“I love you,” he said softly. “You know that. You’ve always known that.”

She didn’t know a damn thing except her desire to be alone. “You never loved anyone but yourself. Now you have a problem because the wife you thought was dead is back and you have to convince people that our marriage wasn’t an act. That we really were partners. Remember those suspicious bloggers saying we couldn’t possibly be that close? We must have had a marriage of convenience, or we’d arranged a sham relationship because you wanted to be elected, or because I wanted financial stability, or because I was secretly a lesbian, or because we both knew we weren’t going to do any better. And it’s terribly problematic for said wife to be acting like an uncontrollable bitch all the time, because how can you continue to perpetuate the myth that you were happily married and not playing it up for the cameras?”