Unleash Me, Vol. 2 (Unleash Me, Annihilate Me Series) (3 page)

I told her all of it, from meeting him when I was taking a photo of my
billboard in Times Square to him coming after me in a cab.

“
You
’
re a best-selling author?
”

“
Let
’
s discuss that another
time.
”

“
I
’
m sorry
—
of course.
 
You must have been terrified,
”
she said.

“
I was.
 
I am.
”

“
Was he drunk?
”

“
I could smell
alcohol on his breath.
 
He kept
asking me for money so he could score some meth.
”

“
What
’
s happened to him
…
?
”

“
I don
’
t know.
”

“
How did he
look to you?
”

“
He looked
like he
’
d aged
—
like he was
forty.
 
Big, bushy brown hair.
 
Stubble on his face.
 
He smelled like hell.
 
And then he threatened me.
”

“
Threatened
you how?
”

I didn
’
t want
to expose the real crime of what Kevin had done to me, but I had no
choice.
 
If anyone could help me in
this situation, it was Katie.
 
So, I
came clean with her.
 
“
During our first year
together, Kevin and I used to go to the Motel 6 in Bangor.
 
That
’
s where we
’
d
make love
—
if
you can even call it that now.
 
Unfortunately, that
’
s
also where he took several nude photographs of me when I was asleep without my
consent.
 
According to him, he still
has the photos and he
’
s
planning on blackmailing me with them.
 
My question to you is simple
—
when
Kevin left Maine, did he leave with any of his possessions?
”

“
Not really,
”
she said.
 
“
I
was there when he filled a suitcase with clothes, got on the bus from Bangor,
and went directly to Manhattan.
”

“
Did he leave
behind a computer?
”

“
Actually, he
did.
”

“
The photos he
took of me were digital.
 
I think he
took them on his iPhone.
 
I
’
m wondering if he loaded
them onto his computer, and if there
’
s
any way you could find out.
”

“
My parents
cleared out his room years ago.
 
They
were hurt by his treatment of them
—
then
angry when he refused to seek help.
 
I think his problems go beyond the booze and the meth, Lisa.
 
I think Kevin is mentally ill.
 
To what degree, I don
’
t know.
 
But it goes way deeper than any of his
addictions.
 
I think he
’
s dangerous.
 
You need to be careful with him.
”

“
I remember
that iPhone,
”
I
said.
 
“
He had the first version when it came out.
”

“
He did.
 
And unless he
’
s tossed it out or sold it to buy drugs, then he still
has it.
 
The photos might be on his
phone.
”

“
Did your
parents throw out everything?
”

“
Everything
went
—
even the
computer.
 
I know that
’
s what you
’
re worried about.
 
But I helped, so I am certain that the
computer is gone.
 
My parents didn
’
t rush into this.
 
If the photos were stored on it, you
’
re likely safe now
—
that thing is
toast.
 
But if he still has his
phone, for whatever reason, they could be on there.
”

“
That
’
s what concerns me.
”

“
I
’
m not so sure that you
should be.
 
Why keep his phone after
all these years?
 
He
’
s a drug addict.
 
Surely, he would have sold it by now.
”

“
The problem
is that we can
’
t be
sure.
 
And I
’
m not in a position to take that kind of risk.
 
If he has them, he could ruin me with
them.
”

“
If it would
help, I could email you a photo of him.
 
It
’
s old, but
it
’
s something.
 
He
’
s not well.
 
He
’
s
unpredictable.
 
I hate to say that
about my own brother, but it
’
s
true
—
he
’
s trouble.
 
You could give the photo to the
police.
 
They could find him.
”

“
When was the
photo taken?
”

“
When he was
nineteen or so.
”

“
It wouldn
’
t do any good.
 
Kevin looks nothing like he used to,
Katie.
 
I barely recognized
him.
 
He
’
s a different man.
 
He
’
s been
living on the streets for too long. Imagine what he looks like now.
 
He
’
s another person.
”

She went silent for a moment, and through the silence, I could feel her
heartbreak, anger, and turmoil.
 
It
took a moment, but she collected herself.

“
If you can
give the police a detailed description of what he looks like now, they have the
technology to use that photo to morph it into how Kevin looks today.
 
Anybody who watches
‘
CSI
’
knows that.
”

She had an excellent point
—
I
’
d seen that technology in
movies and on TV shows myself.
 
Of
course the police could do that.
 
I
also had a feeling that Tank could as well, and that he
’
d want a photo for himself for that very reason.
 
I gave her my email address and asked
her to send the photo to me as soon as possible.

“
You need to
be very careful,
”
she
said to me before we got off the phone.
 

“
He
’
s been following me, you
know?
 
He said that he knows where I
live.
”

“
Why didn
’
t you tell me that
earlier?
”

“
After
tonight?
 
Let
’
s just say that my head isn
’
t on straight.
”

“
You
’
re at risk.
 
You told me you
’
re a writer.
 
You said there is a billboard of you in Times Square.
 
I assume that you have money?
”

“
Not yet, but
I will.
”

“
He
’
s after you for that.
 
You must do something.
”

“
The photo
will help.
”

“
I
’
ll send it to you by
morning.
 
Meanwhile, take care of
yourself.
 
And, please, keep in
touch.
 
I
’
ll be worried sick if I don
’
t hear from you, OK?
 
So, please, promise me that you
’
ll call me when this is
over.
”

“
I promise,
”
I said.

CHAPTER
THREE

When I got off the phone with Katie, it was just past eleven o
’
clock, and as much as I
wanted to talk to Tank right then, I knew that I couldn
’
t.
 
Jennifer, Alex, and he were still in the air.
 
I
’
d need to wait at least another three hours or so for
them to land in Los Angeles before I could call him, which
—
frankly
—
sucked.

Unless I use Skype
, I thought.
 
They have Internet on the plane.
 
I could use Skype
…
.

But I chose not to.
 
Everything
that I had to say to Tank was between us
—
at least for now.
 
I didn
’
t want to distract Alex and Jennifer before they landed
in Singapore
—
they
were there to do business, hopefully to seal a deal, and not to worry about
me.
 
So, until the time was right, I
had to keep them out of this.
 
As
for Tank?
 
Tank was someone to whom
I
’
d always tell the
truth.
 
I just needed him to arrive
in Los Angeles so we could talk alone without anyone else listening to our
conversation.

I went into the kitchen and made myself a martini.
 
I felt worn out, but more than anything,
after all that had taken place tonight
—
all
the unexpected twists and ugly turns
—
I
was worried to my core.
 
I was
frightened by Kevin
’
s
threats, I was angry because there was nothing I could do about them or about
him, and I felt betrayed by someone I once loved.
 
I was rattled by all of it.
 

I thought of calling Blackwell, but I didn
’
t know what time she went to bed, so I decided not to
disturb her.
 
I shook the vodka with
the ice and poured the martini into a chilled glass.
 
At that moment, I became aware of just
how alone I was.
 
Right then, there
was nobody close to me with whom I could talk, and that felt foreign to me.

I wasn
’
t sure
that I
’
d ever felt so
alone.
 
At the very least, Jennifer
always had been there for me.
 
Right
now, I needed her
—
or
better yet, my boyfriend
—
but
both were gone.
 
Part of me wanted
to cry because of how intense the night had been, but I refused to give in to
that emotion.
 
Crying solved
nothing.
 
What I needed to do was
sit down, sip my martini, and think.
 
At this point, I was so worked up, I already knew that tonight would be
a night without sleep.

So I moved into the living room, kicked off my heels, and sat on one of
the sofas.
 
Then, with my martini
poised near my lips, I considered the ridiculous night that was behind me.

I thought about my argument with Marco Boss, and the sheer look of rage
on his face when he had knocked my clutch out of my hands.
 
Why had he done that?
 
Why had he gone ballistic for no good reason?
 
Was it the booze?
 
God knows he
’
d had enough of it.
 
But then there was his ego, which Julian
West and Boss
’
publishing
colleague, Helen Young, had challenged.
 
Worse, I
’
d
walked out on him because I was damned if he was going to treat me poorly.
 
And later, when I felt threatened by him,
I
’
d called the police
on him.
 
I had to wonder what would
come of that.
 
Blackwell had said
that she wouldn
’
t
tolerate abuse of any sort
—
nor
would Alex.
 
She told me that Alex
was giving Boss one more chance to get in line with me.
 
If he didn
’
t?
 
He
’
d be fired.
 

If I knew anything about Alex, it was that he didn
’
t screw around.
 
Neither did Blackwell.
 
Tomorrow, when I told Blackwell what had
happened tonight, I knew that Boss would lose his job.
 
The physical act of him swatting my
clutch out of my hand crossed so many lines, I no longer trusted him or wanted
him near me.