CHAPTER 13
I get dressed and Emma says she’ll help me out the door. I don’t plan on speaking to them. I’m going to make a beeline for my bike and not come back until they’re gone.
“Ready?” Emma asks as she reaches for the front door knob.
I smooth my jeans and tug on my leather jacket. I look too badass to be taken advantage of -- at least I hope I do. I have no idea how I’ll react to their questions, so I put on the huge sunglasses Emma wore to a 70’s beach bash last year. They cover half my face.
“These are guilty glasses,” I tell her. They’re the kind movie stars wear when they get tossed in jail for drinking and driving or something equally stupid.
“You don’t look guilty. You actually look a little intimidating with that helmet under your arm. Listen, I’ll follow you to your motorcycle to make sure you get out okay. Just keep walking. Don’t stop.” I nod sadly. “You can do this, Anna. I know what they’ll do. This is my job, remember? I’d die to be able to interview you right now. Every single one of them is standing there hoping you’ll crack and say something worth reporting. They’re hoping you’ll say it to them, that they’ll be the reporter who gets the story.”
“Wait,” I say as she starts to open the door. Emma stops and turns toward me. “That’s not a bad idea. What if you interviewed me? What if you had the story so that they followed you when I walk out the door? You can tell them that you’ll answer a few questions and a full story will be in your paper.”
Emma stares blankly at me for a moment. “I can’t ask you to do that. So much has happened. I don’t want to make it worse for you, and a story might do that.”
I point at the people parked on the porch, “Too late for that, now. Let’s just try to control the carnage. Besides, I can’t hide out at my parents forever and Sophia expects me in tomorrow. It’s my last week.”
Her eyes bug out, “You’re still going?”
“I have to. What choice do I have?”
She nods slowly and crosses the room. “So, Miss Lamore,” she says in a different tone, one that tells me she means business, “come sit and tell me your story.”
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The plan works. When I step out onto the porch an array of flashes blind me. They expect Emma to walk with me, but she stays on the steps and does as I asked.
“I’ll take a few questions on Miss Lamore’s behalf. The entire story will run in Newsday tomorrow.” The reporters polarize. Some continue to follow me, ignoring Emma, but eventually even they stop in their tracks and look back at her, unsure of who to follow.
I hustle to the parking garage and once I’m out of sight, I take a deep breath to steady myself. I can still see them even though I’m in shadows and out of sight. They look for me, but can’t tell where I went.
Turning, I walk toward my bike and will my heart to slow. I swing my leg over and quickly pull on my helmet. That’s when Edward appears again. He’s walking to his car, which is parked right next to me.
He rushes toward me and wraps his arms around me before I have time to blink. “Anna! Thank God you’re all right. I’ll kill him for touching you. I swear,” he says holding my helmeted head in his hands, “I’ll make sure he never touches you again.”
I’m past the point of reasonable conversation. I’m angry and hurting. I hate that he’s here now, seeing me like this. I hate that he assumes I let Cole use me like that. I swat his hands away. The expression on his face changes rapidly from concern to shock. His lips part like he’s going to say something else stupid or condescending.
I speak before he has the chance, “Nothing happened between us. It was lies. I didn’t cheat on you. I never did anything with Cole like they implied in that article, so don’t stand there feeling sorry for me because nothing happened. It’s part of whatever crap is going on with my current boss—an attempt to smear Cole more than she already has. She tossed me under the bus with him. Do you understand? I’m pissed, but other than that, I’m fine.”
Edwards eyes are too cool for someone so mad only seconds ago. He nods calmly. “Many victims can’t accept what happened to them. It’s not your fault, Anna.” He reaches for my hand.
I snap. I can’t stand him. I don’t want to be here with him. I smack his hand and rev the engine as I kick start the bike. “Stay away from me, Edward. If I see you again, even by accident, I swear to God that I’ll punch you. So just stay away.” My voice is full of anger as I speak. When I finish I don’t wait for him to respond. Instead I gas the bike and peel out of the parking spot, zipping into traffic.
I drive too fast, bobbing and weaving when there’s no need. I do everything possible to hold myself together until I step onto my parent’s doorstep. Then the tears start and don’t stop.
My mom takes me in her arms and for once doesn’t ask about anything. She runs her hand over the back of my head, and pulls me inside.