Chapter Eight #2
Sophie just shook her head and concentrated on her breakfast. Both Gage and Aiden ignored Amelia's comment, though a tiny smile played at the corner of Aiden's mouth. Covering his amusement, he said, “Does anyone have any interesting plans for the day?"
Annalise said, "I was thinking about taking my camera and getting out. I don't know where; it just feels like forever since I've shot anything new." Looking at me, she said, “If Riley thinks it's okay."
A part of me wanted to lock her in a closet until we caught her stalker, but that wasn't the point of the job. She was supposed to get out there, her brand-new fiancé in tow, and hitting the town with her camera was the ideal excuse, mostly because it wasn't an excuse at all.
"I think we'll be fine."
Annalise shot me a grateful look, as Sophie sat up straighter and brightened.
"You should come with Amelia and me," she said.
"Aiden and Gage have to do some work, and Amelia and I were going to head over to the Botanical Gardens. They’re beautiful, and we love to walk over there, especially this time of year when everything is in bloom. "
A smile spread across Annalise's face, and her eyes drifted to the ceiling. I imagine she was lost in thought over all of the opportunities in the Botanical Gardens if she had her camera.
I remembered that look. Before I could think twice, I said, "That works for me. Is that the kind of thing you’re looking for?"
For the first time, Annalise’s smile was entirely genuine, bright and wide, lighting up her face.
She opened her mouth to say something when Aiden's phone beeped. The expression drained from her face as his eyebrows drew together in consternation.
Gage murmured, "Is that the gate?"
Aiden nodded and tapped the screen of his phone, then raised it to his ear. "Yes, Did you ID the deliveryman? I see. I see. Check it, and if it's clean, bring it to the house. Yes. I understand."
Aiden lay the phone on the table and said to Annalise, "You have a flower delivery.
" His eyes moved to me, and he said, "They weren't delivered by a florist, but by someone who works for a jobs-for-hire website. They’re holding him for the moment, but it's unlikely he knows anything about who hired him.
He said he picked up the flowers and delivered them to this address as instructed.
Someone will be by to bring them to Sinclair Security, but I thought we should take a look first."
"Is that the best idea? Does she have to see them?" I challenged Aiden.
Annalise's face had drained of blood, eyes wide with panic. Her voice was tight when she said, "They're my flowers. I have a right to see them. I need to know what he’s saying."
Aiden gave me a look that said, Better to let her see the flowers than fight about it.
He wasn't wrong, trying to shield her would only end in an argument, but I saw the fine tremble in her fingers as she picked up her coffee cup and it turned my stomach.
No one spoke as we waited for the knock on the front door. When it came, Aiden rose to his feet, saying, "I'll bring them in here."
Annalise gave a short nod beside me. Every muscle in her body was drawn tight. I could hear the shortness of her breath, could see her pulse pound in the vein in her neck.
Anyone who didn't know her would see a casually dressed, composed woman, enjoying the remains of her breakfast. But every single person in the room did know her, and we could feel her fear permeating the room.
Aiden returned with a beautiful arrangement of flowers in bright colors, set off by a plant with narrow, glossy green leaves. I hadn't thought it possible for Annalise to wind any tighter, but she went rock solid beside me, her eyes fixed on the blooms in Aiden's hands.
Across the table, Amelia said, “That's just wrong."
Sophie looked at Amelia and said quietly, “You know what they mean?"
Amelia took in the sight of her great-niece, frozen in her chair, eyes fixed on the flowers and said gently, “It's Mother's Day.
Most of those are day lilies. Orange and red.
Anna's favorite. James and the children gave them to her every year.
Day lilies mean motherhood. They were planted all around the house. "
"And the others?" Aiden asked, his voice rough and heavy.
He set the arrangement in the center of the table, and leaning closer I could see that the day lilies stood alone, surrounded by stems topped with yellow balls of petals, intertwined with the glossy green leaves, here and there sprinkled with violet flowers.
The colors didn't quite go, but apparently, the colors weren't the point.
From beside me, Annalise's voice cut in, thin and strained. "The yellow are Tansy. Hostility. They’re twisted up with Myrtle for a happy marriage."
"News gets around fast," Gage said, under his breath.
The whole point of the engagement party, of inviting some of the biggest gossips in town, had been to provoke a reaction. When we planned it, it had been with the detachment of strategy. We had a goal in mind and were determined to accomplish it.
I hadn't expected the wrench of regret in my chest when Annalise shoved back her chair and rose to unsteady feet, blinking hard once before whirling and running from the room.
Gage pushed back his chair to follow her, and I stood, blocking him.
This was my fault. Provoking her stalker had been my idea.
I hadn't anticipated how it would feel to be responsible for that look on Annalise's face.
When I reached her room, she stood in front of the windows of the sitting room, arms crossed tightly over her chest, looking out into the courtyard of Winters House.
The fountain in the center was turned on, the water sparkling cheerfully in the spring sunshine.
Annalise was shaking, her shoulders hunched, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes were wide and dry, her breath coming in short gasps.
If she wasn't having a panic attack, she was close.
I dealt with a lot of clients under extreme stress.
I'd seen this before, but it had never been like this. Not for me.
I tried to summon my customary professional distance, and it wouldn't come. This wasn't some client. This was Annalise. My Lise. The first woman I'd ever loved. The only woman who had broken my heart.
Without thinking of the consequences, I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight against me, absorbing her trembles, and then her tears as she broke down and sobbed against my chest.
She didn't cry for long, only a few minutes, and when her tears stopped, I expected her to pull away.
Instead, she said, "I didn't think he’d find me so fast. I know that was the plan but—" Her breath hitched in her chest and another sob escaped.
"Those were my mother's flowers. He took my mother's flowers, and he made them something ugly.
I don't understand. I've never understood.
I just want this to be over. Why can't it be over?”
She exhaled a long sigh and pressed her cheek to my chest. I didn't realize she was weeping again until I felt the heat of her tears soaking through my shirt.
I tightened my arms around her, pressing my thumb to her spine and stroking up and down, slowly, gradually relaxing her tense muscles.
I thought of a thousand things to say, generic platitudes I'd spouted to other clients on other jobs.
We're going to fix this.
Everything's going to be okay.
Don't worry; we’ll keep you safe.
I couldn't force the words from my mouth. They were all true. We were going to fix this. None of us were walking away until we caught her stalker and ended the threat. And there was no question that I would keep Annalise safe. Nothing would happen to her on my watch.
None of those promises could take away her fear.
I hadn't understood before. Not really. I’d thought I had, but I’d been wrong.
Something inside me changed. Shifted. I pressed my lips to Annalise’s soft hair and murmured, inarticulate sounds, soft and gentle. Soothing. My hand stroked her back, and we stood there for what felt like hours, her heart beating against mine, her breath gradually easing.
I couldn't do it. I thought I could see her as just a client, but I couldn't do it.
Just a few days before, the past had seemed so important.
Because of my job, Annalise had never been completely out of my life, but I'd convinced myself that my feelings for her were dead.
I'd told myself she'd used me, and thrown me away.
I blamed her for leaving, for not loving me enough to stay and fight.
In the face of her fear, my grudge didn't hold up. She'd already admitted that she’d run to protect her family. I'd been in the hospital, had almost died twice. I had to at least acknowledge the possibility that she hadn't left because she didn't love me, she'd left to protect me.
The woman in my arms, weeping over her mother's favorite flowers and the sick twisted fuck who’d sent them to her—this woman wasn't coldhearted. This woman wouldn't abandon the man who loved her because she was tired of him. Because he wasn’t good enough for her.
It's not that I forgave her. Leaving had been the wrong choice, and the fact that she did it, the way she did it, was fucked up. But I was done blaming her. She didn't need that shit from me. She needed help. She needed support. She didn't need me to treat her like the enemy.
There was only one enemy in the situation, and he was drawing closer. If we couldn't find him, there was a very good chance I wouldn't lose Annalise to a breakup; I'd lose her forever.