by Hargrove, A.
Damn, she always got to the bottom of things, even when I didn’t want her to. My gut crawled with an army of ants as I tried to push those thoughts away.
“It won’t disappear like this.” She snapped her fingers. “If you let it fester, it will eat you alive.”
“I’m pissed off,” I huffed.
Caroline grinned. Why the hell was she doing that?
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. And you have every right to be pissed off. But tell me the thing that makes you the angriest.”
That was easy. “I had to let the most perfect woman in the world go.”
“What do you mean?”
“The woman I love. Without her, I wouldn’t be here. She persisted in finding me.”
Leaning back in her chair, Caroline’s eyes pinned me. “Start from the beginning.”
I hadn’t shared this with anyone. It was time to cleanse my mind.
“Her name is Isla Chambers. She’s an FBI agent and I met her when I realized the trailer I was hauling from Savannah to Atlanta was filled with women being trafficked.” I explained the rest of the story on how we met. “I fell for her instantly. We had a true connection. We continued seeing each other because of the case and ended up getting deeply involved. I loved her. She was everything I ever dreamed of in a woman.”
“So, what happened?”
“I pushed her out. She deserves someone better than me because of what they did to me. Who wants to be involved with a drug addict who was forced to do disgusting things for his fix?”
Caroline cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me. Does she have a brain?”
“Of course. What kind of a question is that?”
“Then don’t you think she should be the one to make that decision?”
“No. She’d come to regret it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Having a healthy sexual relationship with a woman again is highly unlikely. Just the idea of it makes me ill. I won’t put her through that.”
“Acer, you’re projecting and that’s not wise.”
“Caroline, how many people do you know would want to get involved with an addict?”
“I know a few.”
“And how did that work out?”
“Pretty well, actually.”
“And what about someone who was sexually abused?”
“Known a few of those too. Yes, they were resistant at the thought of sex initially, but through recovery, they learned coping mechanisms and how to enjoy sex again. I’m not telling you what to do. What I am saying is don’t be too quick to judge. You’ve only been here a month. You have a long way to go before you’ll feel better about things. Talk more in group. You share some, but not a lot. Talk it out with the others. Put it out there. Holding it inside does you no good.”
“It’s not easy.”
“It’s not easy for anyone. Just ask them and you’ll find out. Every person who comes through these doors has difficulty sharing. They don’t want to be embarrassed or humiliated any more than they’ve already been. But you may find it not to be humiliating, but cleansing. It’s a freeing of sorts. You’re chained by those memories and if you can expunge them, you’ll be so much better.”
Maybe she was right. She was the expert after all and what did I know about this? It was hard, yes, but I did want to get better. Improving wasn’t easy. I should just take the plunge.
“Tell you what, Acer. Start with the thing that bothers you the least and notice everyone’s reactions. That should put you at ease.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll do that.”
“Today. Promise. And tomorrow, you can tell me about it.”
I nodded. Our time was about up so she told me how to approach the group. “Oh, and don’t forget to ask someone in there how long it took for them to begin to feel better.”
“Got it.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I left and my next stop was group. I saw Will walking in and called out to him. He turned and waved.
“Hey, hold up a second.” I ran to meet him. “Can I ask you something private?”
“Sure.”
I told him how hesitant I was to share things. And then I jumped right in. “Caroline wants me to be more vocal in group. I’m just—”
“Hey, I know exactly what you mean. You don’t want to bare your soul to a bunch of strangers.”
“Exactly!”
“I was the same, but honestly, it helps. Most of us have experienced what you’re going through, one way or another. By sharing, we all come together and help each other cope. Caroline’s right. Give it a try.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks.”
We found seats and the moderator came in. It was James, the same one who led our meditation class each morning. He kicked the group off by having us go around the room and tell something positive. Mine was that I was on day thirty-one of being clean.
Others had been here close to six months and some only a couple of weeks. At least I was no longer the new kid on the block.
After James gave us the rules, which were stated at the beginning of each class, he asked about difficulties we’d like to share.
I took a cleansing breath and raised my hand.
“Acer?”
“Yeah, I, uh, I’m super angry about what happened to me and am having a hard time coping.”
“Okay, can you tell us more?”
I began slowly at first, but then the words rushed out like a river after a heavy rain. It was weird and unexpected. I told them how my life had finally gotten on track and it had been stolen from me. Then I launched into Isla, and how I’d lost the most important person in the world, because of this.
The questions began, one by one. They were all easy ones, until someone asked about Isla and why I’d lost her. When I told the truth, several people suggested I should call her. Then everyone laughed because we didn’t have the use of phones while we were here.
“What about a letter, explaining everything in your heart?” a woman named Gloria asked.
Then others chimed in, one after the other, with ideas tagged to the letter.
“Letters are so awesome too. No one writes them anymore.”
That was true. I could spill everything out on paper.
“You can write it and if you’re not happy with it, you don’t even have to send it,” someone else said.
“That’s a great idea,” James said. “Many times it helps just to get our feelings out and putting them on paper makes them less harmful. It also allows us to see how they aren’t as mountainous as we believe.”
Absorbing all this information, I came to the conclusion that Caroline was right. I’d missed out on not sharing.
“Thank you everyone. I’m going to do the letter. Only I’ll send it. She has every right to know my deepest feelings, even if she doesn’t understand them.”
I received a round of applause.
After group ended, several people wished me luck and Will walked out with me.
“Well?”
“You and Caroline were both right. I’ve wasted a whole month and missed out on a lot.”
“Chalk it up to a learning experience. You can’t consider it a waste because it brought something positive.”
“Hey, thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”
That night, I sat down and began the tedious process of writing to Isla. This letter needed to be perfect. I may be broken inside, but this letter wasn’t going to be. I wanted her to know all the reasons why I did what I did and maybe since time had passed, she realized it was the right decision. She didn’t need someone who bled darkness from every pore and I would make her see it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
ISLA
Almost two months had passed since I’d seen or talked to Acer. Time had not managed to erase a single thing about him. I still heard his voice, sensed his presence, felt him next to me in bed. Every night I prayed he’d change his mind about his feelings toward me.
Drex
and Gemini wanted me to move to Denver on a permanent basis and work for them. It was tempting. They offered me triple what I was making as an FBI agent.
“I can’t move,” I protested.
“Give us one good reason why.” They were double-teaming me today on FaceTime.
“Because I’d have to leave my mother and she’d kill me if I did that.”
“Okay,” Gemini said. “Then bring her with you.”
“Excuse me? She’d never leave Atlanta. Her boy is here.”
“Fine, then, go home every weekend,” Drex said, flashing me a grin.
“Stop it. That would be awful. I’d get so tired of flying.”
“Hey, Isla, you could use the jet.”
“Dammit, Gemini, you’re not playing fair.”
They chuckled. “We know. We never play fair when we want something, and we want you,” Drex added.
Huff stuck his face into the camera and said, “Please, oh, please say yes. I need an ex-fed to help me out in here.”
“But I’m nowhere near your level. And besides, we haven’t finished with the case here. Thomas knows something’s up.”
“Not to worry. We’re good waiting for you,” Drex said. Gemini was next to him giving me a thumbs-up.
“Let me think about it.”
“Woohoo.” Gemini jumped out of her chair and started dancing.
“I didn’t even say yes, yet.”
“You will,” she said.
“You all are crazy. I have to get to work.”
“Can’t wait until you say that here,” Gemini joked.
“Right. See ya.” I tapped the end button and thought about the offer again. It sure was tempting, especially now with Acer not wanting me in his life. It would give me something else to focus on with a change of pace added to it.
I was still smiling when I arrived at the office.
“Well, that’s a nice change,” Art said.
“What?” I had no idea what he was referring to.
“You. Smiling.”
“Oh. Yeah, I happen to be in a good mood today.”
“So what changed since yesterday?”
I shrugged. I was close to him but telling him about the job offer wasn’t an option. “Nothing. I just figured it was time for a mood switch.”
“My office.”
He wasn’t buying it. I followed him inside and shut the door behind me. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
“I told you.”
“Bullshit. I know you too well.”
“Come on, Art. It’s nothing, really.”
“Does it have to do with Thomas? Because if you’re holding out on me…”
“No! I swear.”
“Chambers, there are very few people in this business I trust. You’re one of them. Don’t make me change my mind on that.”
Sighing, I caved. “Okay, there is something but it has nothing to do with what’s going on with the case.”
“Then why can’t you tell me?”
“Because I—”
“It’s Acer, isn’t it?”
“No! Definitely not him. He wants nothing to do with me.”
“Then what is it?”
“Jesus, can a girl not have a life that doesn’t involve you?”
“No. I can read you like a book and you’re holding something back.”
“All right, dammit. The private investigation firm that found Acer has offered me a job.”
Art laughed. “Is that all?”
“One, why is that so funny? And two, that’s not all. They’ve offered me three times what I’m making here.”
His laughter ended. That was when mine began.
“Someone put a cork in you, Art?”
“Three times? Holy shit. That’s more than what I make after close to twenty years.” He whistled. “You’re going to take it, aren’t you?”
“I, uh, they’re making it extremely hard to say no. It’s a top-notch organization. I mean, you ought to see their ops room. It’s better than what we have. I was amazed.”
He fell back into his chair and looked like I’d just beat the crap out of him, minus the bruises. “Fuck it all. You’re my best agent here, Chambers. I’m going to miss you. What kind of bennies do they have?”
“I, uh, we didn’t get that far.”
That was when he perked up. His pointer finger took aim. “Listen to me. I know we may not make much, but this job takes good care of you in the way of a pension. Not many places offer that today. And you get good healthcare too. When you get your years in and you’re ready to retire, you’ll be set.”
“Art, calm down. I’ll make my decision based on a number of things, not just salary.”
“Good. Think things through. You have a lot to go through. And make sure they offer you a good 401k.”
“Hey, Art, if I decide to take it, I’ll give you time to find someone here. One thing though, I’ve had a really hard time dealing. You know. And I’m not gonna lie. Denver would be a nice change of scenery.”
“Denver. Bah,” he said with a frown. “It’s a crummy town compared to Atlanta. What have they got that we don’t?”
“Um, skiing about an hour away.”
“Ah, come on, Isla, who wants to do that?”
“I do. But can we change the subject? Where are we with Thomas? He’s skittish as hell these days and I’m afraid he’s going to run or do something equally as stupid.”
“Same here, but I’m waiting for the go-ahead.”
“What’s taking so long?”
“All the red tape, or so I’m told.”
“It’s been a whole month now.”
“No, only a couple of weeks. We didn’t have all the information put together.”
“True. But there’s someone high up on the inside who’s involved.”
“Isla, we’ve been through this a hundred times and that’s not possible or plausible.” While he spoke he scribbled on a notepad and then handed it to me.
The note said, “I think this office is bugged. Don’t talk about the case in here. Do you think your Denver friends can help us?”
I nodded and wrote back. “I’ll ask.”
“I have work to do, boss. We can chat at lunch.”
We worked through the morning and at lunch, I stopped by Art’s office. “You hungry?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Good. Let’s go grab a bite.”
We left and I headed for a favorite drive-through of his and told him I needed a new phone.
“Yours seems to be working fine.”
“It is, but I don’t trust that it’s not bugged.”
“I can check it back at the office,” he said.
Shaking my head, I said, “No. I don’t trust anyone there. I know this sounds bad, but smash it.”
“What?”
“Smash it. Step on it or something. It’s insured.”
“Pull over in that parking lot.” He pointed to one ahead.
After I did, he put the phone under my tire and instructed me to drive over it.
With a grin, he handed it to me. It was magnificently ruined.
“Nice job. You’re pretty good at this.”
He nearly rolled his eyes. “I don’t usually do this, but you asked, so I did the best I could.”
We got to the phone store and I made my purchase. It took a while since I had to fill out paperwork for the insurance, but when they questioned how it happened, the answer was easy. I accidentally drove over it.
The salesclerk barely blinked. “Yeah, it happens all the time.”
We left with my new phone. On the way back, I called Gemini and Drex and asked them if they could look into what Art needed.
“So, all you want is proof that someone above your boss is involved in this activity?” Drex asked.
I glanced at Art and when he nodded, I said, “Yep, that’s it.”
“I’m pretty sure we can get some kind of footprint on that.
Do you have an IP address where we can start?”
Art said, “Can she text that to you in a little while?”
“Not a problem.”
“Good, we only need to link him or her to one of the O’Briens.”
“Got it.”
“Thanks, Drex.”
Not much later, I pulled into the parking lot where Art reminded me not to mention this inside.
“Get me that IP address so I can text it to Drex.”
“I’m on it.”
We went back to work like it was a normal day.
When Art gave me the information Drex needed, I passed it on to him. By the end of the day, we had a name. He was still working on the proof.
On my way out, I texted Art. Give me a call when you can.
He knew what that meant.
* * *
Ruffles was happy to see me when I walked in, my hands full of mail. I flipped through the envelopes, but froze when I saw his handwriting. It was from Acer.
I carefully set it down, then took Ruffles for her walk. When we got back inside, I grabbed a beer, somehow knowing I’d need one, and opened the envelope.
The pages were rumpled, as though he’d flipped through them dozens of times before mailing them. His handwriting was bold and slanted as I remembered. I hugged the pages to my chest, as they brought so many memories of the two of us crashing down on me. Fear zipped up my spine, because I was unsure of what those pages held. They could offer a lifeline or allow me to drown in icy water. Life without Acer hadn’t been easy. Without work to occupy me, I would’ve gone batshit crazy with grief. I had survived though, but holding these flimsy pages could somehow destroy that.
I never thought I’d need such courage and strength to read a damn letter before. Before Acer. Before I fell so hard for him. But here I sat with trembling hands, fearful of what was in store for me.
* * *
Dear Isla,
This is long overdue and I’m sorry. I owe you far more than this but I finally have reached the point I’m able to write these words down.
An explanation is in order of why I sent you away. It wasn’t because my feelings for you have diminished. That is not possible. You will always be my person, the wonderful woman I love.