Page 90 of Beast

We walked up to the gate of her house, Annie holding on to my arm, Gabriel clutching my leg.

I bent over and gave Gabriel a hug. “Bye, little man. Take care of your mama for me.”

He latched onto my neck, and I almost welled up with tears. “Bye, Pat.”

I turned to Annie, her hair blowing in the ocean air. Would this be the last time I ever saw her? “Good-bye, Annie.”

“Can’t you come inside with me? Just for a bit?” I could feel Annie shake.

There couldn’t be any ambiguity. I had to cut the ties. “No. You need to go by yourself. I’m not coming with you.”

“But I need you. Please, I’m sure the Navy would give you leave? My daddy could get you a job and—”

My chest tightened. I fucking hated myself for being such an asshole. I didn’t have a choice—no one could find out about our involvement in her rescue. We’d gone over the cover story a bunch of times—Dave rescued her and sailed her home. I had to end this. For her. For me. For Gabriel. We both had to move on.

“Stop. We’re not going to do this.” My head pounded. I had to get it over with. Set her free so she could move on. “This is it, Annie. It’s over. I can’t ever see you again. I rescued you, and detoxed you. The job is done. This is done. I don’t owe you anything. Just let it go.”

Tears fell down her face and she let out a whimper.

I nudged Annie toward the gate, which she opened, then walked up to the front steps. Annie looked back at me, I nodded, and she rang the doorbell. Annie’s mom, who I recognized from the pictures, opened the door, and let out a scream. She hugged Annie, Gabriel still standing by her side. I gave a final glance back and could see Annie’s father appear at the door. Annie was safe. I’d done my job and completed my mission. It was time to get back to my men.

I raced up the street, jumped into Vic’s SUV. “Go.”

Vic sped away.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I could’ve kissed her good-bye, told her it was going to be okay, and that I cared about her.

“You okay?” Vic offered.

“Yup. Never better,” I lied.

I wondered what Annie was doing at that moment. Would her parents accept Gabriel? Like an investigative news reporter, I wanted to know every detail. But that was her story. My involvement in her life was over. Now it was time for me to get back to my life. I’d done my job, earned my trident.

The only easy day was yesterday.

22

Patrick

I WAS BACK ON THE USS Reagan, crammed next to my smelly men. In the week since I’d left Annie at her home, I’d thrown myself into work. Now, we were on our way to our next mission. During my week off, I completely unplugged: no phone, no Facebook, no internet. I hung out with my dog, went to a barbecue at Vic’s house, and caught up on some movies. Normally, I’d log onto the computer every night, but I’d been avoiding the internet until now. Kyle and Vic had told me Annie’s story had been all over the news, but I told them I didn’t want to hear the details. One look at her in a news conference and I’d be stopping by her house to make sure she was okay.

Safely on the ship, I finally signed in once everyone else had dispersed so I could be alone. Against my better judgment, I googled her name.

“Missing American Analía ‘Annie’ Rose Hamilton Found Alive.”

I scanned the article and nothing could’ve prepared me for what I read.

“Hamilton walked into her home in Encinitas, California. She has told authorities she ran away from the resort after a fight with her boyfriend and has been living in Aruba for the past five years under an assumed name as a missionary. She recently decided to return home and chartered a boat to San Diego.”

What the fuck? No mention of being kidnapped, no mention of the brothel, no mention of Gabriel?

I took a deep breath and tried to come up with a reason, any reason, why Annie and her family would lie.

I found a video of a press conference on YouTube. It was a fucking circus: Annie, her parents, her boyfriend Chris, the police, lawyers, and the press. But again, no Gabriel. Where was he?

Annie didn’t speak. She stood at the podium in a fitted, white suit, clutching the cheap necklace I’d given her.

Was she trying to send me a signal?