Alana Albertson - Invincible

“No. That’s not it.”

“No secrets. Spill it.”

I didn’t know how to approach her. We had an unspoken rule never to talk about her time in the brothel. “In the brothel, when I came back to see if you were who you said you were, you told that me that you and Nicole were convinced you were going to be saved. Why did you think that?”

She shifted in her seat. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Why now?” She sucked her cheeks in.

“I always wanted to ask you. There’s never a right time.”

“It was nothing. I just thought this other guy was sent to save me once. He never came back. Why does it matter?”

“It matters to me. Why did you think he was going to come back?”

“First, you get all jealous about Chris and now you’re interrogating me about the clients? You know I don’t want to talk about them.”

I couldn’t tell her why. “Please, Annie. I just have to know.”

Her hands clenched into fists. “What do you want me to say? You want to hear how he forced me to make out with Nicole? What positions he fucked me in? Will that make you happy?”

“Dammit, Annie. Is that what you think of me? Of course, I don’t want to know that shit. You don’t think that it kills me that all those men used you? That I used you? Every fucking night since I met you, I have nightmares of faceless men who fuck you. And in them I’m fucking helpless and can’t save you. I want to kill every man who has ever touched you. I just wanted to fucking try to understand why no one ever saved you? You mentioned it. Is that so fucking wrong?”

She pulled out her hair, like she had on the night I’d returned to the brothel. “I’m sorry, Pat. I’m just so fucked up. I just lost it. I hate myself.”

“I’m not mad at you.” I pulled her to me, and kissed her forehead. “I know this is hard for you. I’ve been thinking about it and I want to know. But if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” I wasn’t using reverse psychology—I didn’t want to upset her further. She’d tell me when she was ready.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked.

“I’m sorry I brought it up. Forget I asked. We need to leave soon to meet your boyfriend.”

“Ha ha. I’ll get ready.”

Annie emerged from the bathroom wearing one of those short, flippy skirts, a tank top, and strappy sandals. Granted it was eighty degrees, but she looked too damn hot to go outside.

“What are you wearing?”

“Jesus Pat. Controlling much? It’s scorching out and I thought you’d like it. I bought it yesterday. Now you going to tell me what to wear? I was a hooker, I’m beyond modesty.”

My throat became dry. We weren’t communicating at all. “No, I’m not telling you what to wear. But we’re going to meet your ex boyfriend. I already don’t trust him, and I don’t need him lusting after you in front of me. You can wear whatever you want. It’s going to be so fucking hard for me to be away from you when I deploy next month and you’re not making it any easier.”

“So if I dress sexy it will be harder for you to trust me? That’s dumb.” She wasn’t backing down.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I trust you. It’s hard enough for me to imagine all those men touching you. I get so angry when I think about it. I just want you to myself. And he’s your ex. I’m a man. I know what he’s going to think when he sees you. You’re fucking hot.”

She shrugged. “Okay. I’ll change.”

God, was I that much of a paranoid asshole? I wasn’t one of those men who thought that women who dressed sexy were asking for it. I just wanted to protect Annie. I didn’t want anyone fantasizing about her. It would be impossible for me to focus on my job if I’m worried sick about everyman eye fucking her while I’d be away.

She came back out in longer shorts, a tee shirt, and the same strappy sandals.

I kissed her. “You still look hot. Thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal. I get it.” She rested her head on my chest. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being honest with me about your feelings. I want you to be able to trust me. I didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to accept my past. Like, I knew you wouldn’t judge me for what happened, but I forget that it must be tough for you anyway to think about me being with those guys. What I’m saying is that it means a lot to me that you want to be with me.”

“I’m not going to lie to you and say this is easy for me. Because it isn’t. No man wants to picture any one touching his girl ever, let alone thousands. I know it wasn’t your choice. I know it wasn’t your fault. In my head, that girl was Star.”

She had a gleam in her eye, like an inner glow from her soul. “But for me, I feel like you’re the only man that gets me. Because you saw me as Star. And you’re still here. You haven’t just read about my past, you saw me first hand like that. Fuck, I mean you hired me. Star is a part of me and I don’t want to forget about her. Ever. She made me strong. Nothing can shake me now. I’ve made peace with my past, getting taken, the rapes, the drugs, the men. Yeah, it was a nightmare. But it was my path. I was meant to be with you. Therapy and yoga helped me understand that. I feel like I can do anything, endure anything.”

I was mesmerized by her. I kissed her again and we walked out the door. She constantly amazed me with how strong she was. In BUD/S the men who make it through aren’t necessarily the strongest men, the fastest men, or the smartest men. But they are the ones who on day one are determined not to quit, no matter what. They will not ring that bell.

Annie was just like the men who made it. No matter how hard her life had been, she was determined not to ring that bell under any circumstances. She was exactly like me. She could survive anything.

Maybe even loving me.

We drove to Solana Beach to meet Chris. He picked the place, Zinc Café. I didn’t care; I just wanted to look him in his eyes.

The place was dog friendly, so I took Trigger. We walked into the courtyard, and Chris was sitting at a table, drinking some type of gourmet soda.

He hugged Annie and I made sure to study their body language. He wanted her for sure. Fuck.

“Nice to meet you. Thanks for saving her.”

He shook my hand: it was a decent handshake. He looked older than the pictures I’d seen of him on the web. His sun-streaked hair was long and brushed his shoulders, his tan skin was weathered, and his turquoise eyes had lines around them.

“I’m going to order for us.” Annie kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hand. I knew she was telling me to be nice to him. But she still didn’t have a clue that I had an additional ulterior motive for wanting to meet him.

Annie walked into line.

Chris smiled at me. “I wanted to thank you for clearing my name. I know finding Annie was way more important and it’s not about me, but it was hard walking around having everyone look at you as a murderer. I felt so fucking guilty that I didn’t know what happened to her. I was so depressed thinking that she died, or was out there being traded around. I mean, I should’ve been able to protect her, but I didn’t. We were only eighteen and so stupid drinking. Just wanted to say there is nothing going on between us. I’m seeing someone.”

I’m glad he got that out of the way. He made strong eye contact and I believed him, even though I could tell he was still attracted to her. Not that I could blame him. “Thanks for that. I trust her. What do you know about her dad?”

Trigger sniffed Chris. “Mr. Hamilton? He’s great. Our fathers are old golfing buddies. He always believed I had nothing to do with Annie’s disappearance. Why?”

I wasn’t going to answer his questions. “How’s his relationship with Annie?”