“I love you more.”
A strangled laugh escaped me. It was full of all the love I had for that girl. “Love you most.” I disconnected before she could argue and just stood there, still staring at the house in the distance.
He was behind me, less than two feet away. I could feel his body heat, could smell his cologne. A huge part of me wanted to continue to pretend he wasn’t there and just get into my rental. Drive away … maybe even run over his fucking foot in the process. A smaller part of me wanted to know what the hell he wanted.
Glancing down at my phone to make sure the call had really disconnected, I turned to face the man who had destroyed me so utterly and completely. I refused to look anywhere but in his eyes, not wanting to take in the details of how he’d changed over the years. I’d already done that weeks ago and hated myself for how much more attracted I was to this version of Zander Brockman than I’d been to the boy/man version.
“Do you need something?” I kept my voice neutral and mentally gave myself a pat on the back.
Flecks of gold flamed down at me out of green eyes. Was he having an off day, or were his green eyes because of me? Clenching my jaw, I told myself I couldn’t care less either way. Of course I was a big fat liar. My heart was crying out for me to touch him, to comfort him. Where were the hazel eyes that had owned me all those years ago? I wanted them. I wanted him to be stable enough to have them.
Idiot.
Zander stood there, his eyes never leaving mine, as he seemed to have an inner struggle. I knew the instant he gave up. He thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and smiled down at me. Not just any smile. It was a smile I remembered well, the one he’d always reserved for me all those years ago. My heart clenched at seeing it now. “Are you busy tonight? I’d like to take you to dinner, maybe catch up.”
I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening in surprise. What the hell? “Are you fucking serious?”
Another shrug. “I’ve stayed out of your way while you and Emmie were so busy with Brie’s stuff, but now that things have calmed down I was hoping we could… I don’t know, talk?”
“You want to talk? Now?” My voice was rising with my anger, but I couldn’t help it. Seventeen years of pain, of gut-wrenching hurt, and anger—so much anger—was beginning to boil in my veins. “Where were you when I wanted to talk to you seventeen years ago? I called Rich Branson, begging him to make you talk to me. Just for a minute. One little minute. I mean after everything, I thought I at least deserved that. How about twelve years ago when I called again, sobbing with my desperation to just have you answer the damn phone? Where the fuck were you when I wanted to talk, Z? When I fucking needed you?”
His entire body tensed, his face going pale. I watched through angry eyes as he swallowed hard and lifted a hand toward me. I slapped it away—no way could I handle his touch right then—and reached for the handle of my car. “I don’t want to talk to you, Z. It’s too late for talking.”
“Anna…”
“No!” I screamed, so close to breaking I hated myself a little right then. “No.” I whispered it that time, fighting back tears. “Goodbye, Z.”
C HAPTER S IXTEEN
Annabelle
Somehow I made it through the lunch meeting with the record-label dick. It hadn’t been easy, that was for sure. I still had anger simmering in my gut along with all the other emotional pain that Zander always stirred up in me. Add to that a record label exec who thought he was entitled to stroke my thigh under the table while we shared a meal and discussed Tasha Vowel’s future with his label, and it had really made for the afternoon from hell.
The exec, I’d been able to handle, although I knew that if I’d had Emmie’s name backing my own I wouldn’t have had to deal with his shit in the first place. Still, I’d had a professional smile on my face as I’d stabbed my fork into the back of his hand. He’d muttered a curse, grinned at me, and then proceeded to give me what I’d come for. Tasha Vowel had been pleased with the results when I’d called her.
It had been Zander who had rotted my brain, making it impossible to concentrate on anything else. I hadn’t even called my family back in Tennessee to talk to them about Emmie’s offer like I’d planned. Noah would have known immediately that something was wrong with me, and my overprotective big brother would have been on the first flight out to California. Right then, that wasn’t something I wanted even though I ached to see him.
I ate dinner with Emmie and her family that night and then went to bed early. As I climbed into bed, my phone buzzed, alerting me to a FaceTime call from my brother. I didn’t have the energy to rehash my day with him, though. Turning my phone off, I pulled the covers up over my head and closed my eyes, hoping for sleep.
A firm, urgent knock on my bedroom door startled me awake half a second before the door opened and Emmie walked into the room with a cordless phone in her hand. “Annabelle, it’s your brother. He says it’s an emergency.”
My heart stopped and everything inside of me went cold. I jumped out of bed, not caring that I was only in a T-shirt and panties, and took the phone from her. “Noah?” So many bad memories were flooding my mind that I knew my brother clearly heard my terror.
“She left, Annabelle. She just up and left.” His voice held no less terror than my own. And anger. Lots and lots of anger. I could hear my nephew’s voice in the background, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. The blood was rushing through my ears, making it nearly impossible to hear anything. “Shut up, kid. I’ll deal with you in a minute… Annabelle, she sent Ben a text about thirty minutes ago telling him where she was. He says she’s fine. I’m going to beat you, boy. You just wait. I’m going to beat the hell out of you for keeping this from us.” We all knew that wasn’t going to happen, but I knew Noah was struggling with the same bad memories as I was. My brother sounded wild, his fear making my own rise. “She’s out there, Annabelle. She’s in L.A.”
“I’ll just go pick her up at the airport. She’s fine, I’m sure of it.” Oh, God, please let her be okay. I couldn’t fucking go through this again. She had to be fine.
“No, Annabelle. You don’t understand, honey. Mieke is already there. Ben said she wasn’t coming to see you.” At those words, some of my fear faded and was replaced by ten tons of dread.
Ah, fuck.
The hand holding the phone dropped to my side and I fell onto the edge of the bed, my legs no longer willing to hold me up. That stubborn girl. My beautiful, stubborn girl.
“Annabelle?”
I slowly lifted my head to look at Emmie. “Um… I need to go out.” Good, I was able to get out a full sentence. At least I hadn’t fallen off the edge. Yet.
Her brow furrowed. “Of course. Is everything okay?”
My chin trembled. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Can I do anything?”
Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to my feet and straightened my spine, resolved as to what was to come. “I need Zander Brockman’s address.”
Zander
Ding. Dong.
I ignored the doorbell. I hated the sound of the damn thing. I’d been debating on just disconnecting it altogether. No one ever rang it the way I needed them to and my OCD always went haywire because of it. Tonight, however, it was easy to ignore the damn thing.