Page 97 of Free to Believe
Jesus, Brendan wasn’t kidding when he said Corinna might hold this call against him. The woman on the other end of the phone sounds like she’d cheerfully chop me up with a meat cleaver and then feed me to a ravenous pack of mountain lions.
“Ms. Freeman, you have no reason to trust me…” I begin.
“Trust you?” she says scathingly. “I had no reason to accept this call except Brendan assured me you might have something to say I might want to hear. If it weren’t for him, I’d have laughed over what I’m sure would have been your pathetic excuse for a voicemail.”
“And I’m sure you’ve never made a mistake?” I retort, my temper slipping a bit.
“I’ve made them, Mr. Madison. I also owned up to them the minute I knew I was wrong. You brought my sister to her knees, you bastard.” There’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line. I keep thinking Corinna will stop, but she goes on. “Do you know the last people who did that? They shot her parents. In front of her. That’s who this family associates you with. Want to hear about why we preventedyourdaughter from staying with Em when she first got here? Because she still couldn’t stop crying over you. That’s the Em we’re trying to save. And you think I’m going to tell you where she is.” She snorts derisively.
“I love her.”
“Obviously.” Her sarcastic drawl is followed by an acidic laugh.
“Goddamnit, my daughter was in a coma!” I roar. Launching myself to my feet, I begin pacing my New York City hotel room. I left Nantucket first thing this morning. I’m exhausted, but I want to settle this as soon as I can. For Em. For me. For us. “I was out of my mind. I wasn’t thinking. I was barely surviving. I was lashing out at everyone: doctors, nurses, my ex-wife. And yes, Emily. Has nothing like that ever happened to you?”
“Did you ever give her a chance to tell you what happened?”
“I was wrong. I know it. I had to get to Jenna at the hospital first. Then when she finally woke up, I went to find Em to apologize. Do you have any idea what it was like when I got there and instead of being able to beg for her forgiveness, I find nothing but an envelope? I never had a chance to say I’m sorry.”
“That’s just too damn bad. Because what she really left you with was a child who was breathing. Because I do believe it’s my sister who—while concussed—still managed to breathe life into your daughter’s lungs until the EMTs arrived.”
“You’re right, Ms. Freeman. And after, I had to help that daughter get well. I was torn between caring for a daughter who was just out of the hospital and…” Fixing my heart and soul so when I approach Emily again, I don’t make the same mistakes over and over. But that’s not for Corinna. That’s for Emily to know. “I thought I did the right thing by focusing on my daughter until she advised me I was an idiot.”
“Didn’t you get the message when your letters were sent back, Mr. Madison?” a voice that doesn’t sound familiar asks me. Crap. I’ve been on speaker.
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I ask wearily, “How many of Em’s siblings are there?”
A different voice answers calmly, “I think the better question would be, which ones of us aren’t?”
“And what questions we’ll have for you to determine if you’ll ever get close to Em ever again,” a third voice says.
“Apparently, Jenna’s the smart one of this family,” Corinna says scathingly.
“I will talk to whomever I need to in order to get to see Em. I just want to see her before her show Friday.” You’d have thought I dropped a bomb in the room with that announcement. The outbursts ofAre you insane?mingled withHe must be kiddingwould almost be humorous if a male voice didn’t come over the line. “Please hold, Mr. Madison.”
I can only assume it’s her brother, Phillip. No one’s introduced themselves.
Several long minutes later, the first voice unknown voice comes on the line. “Mr. Madison? This is Alison Freeman. I’m the corporate lawyer for Amaryllis Events.”
Shit. The one who emailed me. “Yes, Ms. Freeman.”
“You’re in Nantucket?” she queries.
I go for broke. “Actually, I came to New York this morning.”
I hear some papers shuffling in the background. The purr of satisfaction in Alison Freeman’s voice comes through the line and scares the shit out of me. “Then be at this address no later than 9:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.” She quickly rattles off an address. “The guards will give you a pass to the executive floor. Be there at one minute after and they won’t see you.”
“Who won’t?” I ask cautiously.
“The people you need to get through to get to us. And Em.” Alison promptly disconnects the call.
Though I’m left wondering what the hell I’m going to find—and don’t think I’m not googling that shit—at least I know I’m one step closer to getting to Em.
And maybe finding a way back to what we were.
60
Jake
