Redemption Road (Vicious Cycle #2)(65)
At the sound of Rev approaching behind me, I asked, “You remember what to do for him when it’s time to release him?”
“Yes, I do,” he murmured.
“Good.”
“Annabel, don’t leave like this,” Rev pleaded, his voice thick with anguish.
“You ask me not to leave like this, yet you haven’t once told me to stay.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Considering all of that, how else would you presume I left? You’ve told me I don’t know what I feel, but more than anything, you’ve made me feel that my feelings for you are based on some sort of reverse Stockholm syndrome, like kidnapping victims experience for their captors.” I shook my head. “I just wish you could see what’s truly in my heart.”
With a resigned sigh, I eased Poe back into his pen. As much as I hated to leave him, I knew without a doubt that Rev would take good care of him, even after he was released into the wild. I stood up and breezed past Rev to the porch steps. After making one last sweep inside the house for anything of mine, I went out the front door onto the porch.
As I started down Rev’s front steps, I saw that my parents’ limousine had pulled around to the cul-de-sac. I started walking to the car, but a small voice behind me caused me to stop.
When I turned around, Willow was staring up at me with her big brown eyes. “Belle, are you leaving?”
Fighting back tears, I nodded. “I wish I could stay longer, but I really have to go back home now.”
Willow’s lips turned down in a pout. “But I’m going to miss you so much. Will you come to visit?”
Although I knew the answer to her question was no, it broke my heart to disappoint her. “Maybe one day.” I bent down to her level. “Will you help Uncle Rev with Poe? It won’t be much longer before he’s ready to be released.”
“Yes, I will. I promise.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Be a good girl for your mommy and daddy. I know you’re going to be a wonderful sister to your brother.”
“I will.”
I kissed the top of Willow’s head and then slowly pulled away. Beth stood behind us, a stricken look on her face. I don’t know if it was because of Willow or because of the weight of the emotions, but neither of us spoke. Instead, our eyes conveyed everything we needed to say. Beth wanted me to know that Rev was struggling with his feelings. But the tears in my eyes let her know he had made his intentions clear. He wasn’t fighting for me . . . for us. So there was nothing left but to go.
She put her arms around me and hugged me tight. I clung to her, realizing how close I had grown to her in the last month. She was the mother I wished I had—the kind which, if fairy tales were true, I would have wished for. But this was real life.
In fairy tales, this would be the moment when Rev swooped to my side and told me everything I wanted to hear. He would hoist me into his arms and carry me back into the house, and we would live happily ever after.
But this was real life. And I had already learned how much real life could hurt you.
When I pulled away from Beth, I let the sobs overtake me as I hurried to the waiting limousine. I slid inside without looking back for him. At the sight of my tear-streaked face and my chest heaving with sobs, my mother recoiled in her seat. “Annabel, honestly,” she chided. I knew she was at a loss to understand how I could be so bereft at leaving such people.
She would never understand that within the walls of Rev’s small house and among the salt-of-the-earth people who were his family, I had learned how to truly live for the first time.
SIXTEEN
REV
Sometimes we find ourselves damned to hell by outside forces. But then sometimes we are the very ones who damn ourselves. The burden of suffering I had taken on after Annabel left was of my own doing, and I had no one else to blame but myself. Doing what I had assumed was the right thing had never been so wrong.
Since I had never been one who couldn’t admit his mistakes, I tried calling Annabel several times. Each call went unanswered until the number was changed altogether. My wounded male pride then overrode any other overtures I should have made to make things right between us. Instead, I did the immature thing and drowned my sorrows in Jack Daniel’s.
My days and nights became a boozy haze. I slept until noon, and I didn’t show up for work at the pawnshop. I basically became one of the walking dead or, I guess more aptly, a dead man walking. The only time I took life seriously was when it came to the club and club business.
No one could reach me. Deacon and Bishop talked, yelled, and cursed until they were blue in the face. Even Alexandra tried using her feminine approach to get through, but I was a hopeless case. No one was more frustrated by my behavior than I was. But each day, as I poured another glass of Jack, I reasoned that what I had done was for the best for both Annabel and me. She’d had one traumatic life experience, so she sure as hell didn’t need to end up with me. I could only imagine her waking up one day and looking at me with a regret that would have broken my heart even more than letting her go had.
Mama Beth was the only one who didn’t try talking to me. I think she was so disgusted by what I had done concerning Annabel and what my life had become that she was for once washing her hands of me. Of course, her disappointment wounded me deeply. One day, three months after Annabel had left, I lashed out at her in a way I never would have believed myself capable of. After talking it over with Deacon and Bishop, we had all decided it was best not to tell Mama Beth about my rape. As sensitive as she was, it would be too horrific and painful for her to have to endure.