The Enemy Inside (48 page)

“I said I love you, you annoying, stubborn woman. So there.”
 

Berg smiled and felt different kind of tears forming. “You do?”

“I do.”

“What about that woman who was just here?”

Jay frowned. “My sister? What’s she got to do with it?”

Oh, sister.
“But the transfer request, the night you left my apartment, and the restaurant?”
 

“I’m sorry about that. I wanted to tell you about the transfer myself. I felt that if we were going to
be
together, we should not work as closely together. You know how the department feels about that, but that’s no longer a problem, now that we’re not partners. And at the restaurant, my feelings took me by surprise. I didn’t deal with it well. Later, I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, even though it’s all I could think about doing. All of that adds up to me being an idiot. Sorry.”

“I . . . I . . . don’t know what to say,” Berg said through her tears, moving close to the bed.

“I just told you I love you. Kinda hanging out on a limb here, Berg,” Jay replied.

Berg was suddenly scared. She grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, pulling it closer and studying the bruising around his wrist.

“Hey,” he said, causing her to look back up. Jay frowned slightly. “Have you ever . . . said the words to anyone before?”

Berg shook her head, a tear dropping onto Jay’s white cotton blanket.

“Not even your parents?”

Berg raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Of course not,” he said with a grimace. “Well, I won’t make you say it if you can’t. Just as long as that’s how you feel. Is it?”

Berg smiled through the tears and nodded.

Jay beamed.

Berg’s happy smile faded as she remembered her therapist’s warning—that she find the strength to take her journey to recovery alone. “Fuck. You were right. We can’t be together,” she whispered.
 

Jay’s face fell. He lifted his good arm and rubbed his eyes surreptitiously. “Wow, that stings. I didn’t think anything could hurt worse than what Leigh did to me, but hey, I was wrong.”

A tear trickled down her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I will have nightmares for the rest of my life about how she stabbed me, over and over, telling me each time what organ she was going to pierce, how it would feel when she did it and what it would do—how long it would take to die. That was the worst bit, knowing what was coming. But I didn’t do what she wanted.”

“What did she want?” Berg asked, frowning.

“She wanted me to prove my feelings for you weren’t real and call you to the house with my cell. She could have done it herself, anytime, like the text messages she sent the rest of the detectives on my behalf, you know? But she wanted to break me, make me choose between myself and you, because that would reaffirm her belief that all men were evil. After a while, I knew I was dying. But I went to death gladly, knowing I hadn’t given you to her. You were safe,” he whispered.

Berg sobbed, and it was a while before she could speak. “I don’t know what to say. You should’ve given in, saved yourself. I can take care of myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Jay replied.

“It’s all I know.”

“It doesn’t have to be. You admitted that you love me, so what’s the problem? Changed your mind already?”

“No, that’s not . . . of course I . . . I’m in . . . therapy,” Berg said, embarrassed. “My therapist says I’ve been suffering from depression for a while now, and I’ve been having panic attacks at night, which is why I can’t sleep. I have a long road ahead. I’m not even allowed any coffee. But essentially she said I need to be my own rescuer, without any attachments, because if I rely on you for my recovery and then you go, well . . . it could take a while. I’m sorry, Jay. More sorry than I can express.”

Jay nodded, then folded his arms in that stubborn way she loved. “I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait,” he replied.

Berg felt the happiness returning, and smiled. “No, I don’t mind a bit.”

Jay tugged on her hand, pulling her toward him before cupping her face. He kissed her softly, barely brushing his lips with hers. “This is just the beginning, Berg. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
 

Berg walked out of the hospital to her car, the tingle of Jay’s kiss still on her lips. She used the electronic key to open the trunk. Pushing a gray blanket aside, she ran her hand over the cool metal of the rifle’s barrel, caressing it like a lover.
 

Covering it and closing the trunk, she smiled. Of all the evidence collected from Leigh’s hideaway, the detectives were still confounded over their inability to find the rifle that was used to kill Winchester.
 

Berg still had no idea why she took it. She had hoped it was as a reminder of her mistakes—a reminder of what she could turn into, if she let herself.
 

But she had her doubts about that. She was worried she took it for a reason that wasn’t even clear to her yet, a reason she didn’t even want to admit . . .
 

The voice in her head cackled.
Leigh’s work isn’t done yet.

Acknowledgements

So many people deserve thanks for helping to make this dream happen, far too many to thank individually.
 

My very supportive family deserves a mention, of course; they never once doubted I would achieve my goals. And Spiro, my proof reader, partner, and muse.

My spiritual posse, Terese, Joy, and Lynette, who helped me believe in myself and trust the journey.

My beautiful friends, Karla and Natascha, who always knew I could do it.

And to Amanda Hayward, for taking a chance.

About the Author

Vanessa Skye has always had a love of words and spent her school years writing poetry, speeches, and fictional essays.

After completing a Bachelor of Arts in Print Journalism and studying Psychology at Charles Sturt University, Vanessa got a job at Rural Press—Australia's largest publisher of regional and agricultural news and information—where she worked as a journalist in the Central West of NSW for four years.

Thousands of stories later, Vanessa decided to move back to Sydney and try her hand at public relations while studying a Master of Arts in Communication.

Skip forward a few years and Vanessa once again found herself joyfully studying various psychology subjects while managing a Sydney public relations firm. Enthralled with examining the motivations behind people’s actions, Vanessa realized what she really wanted to do in life was combine her love of words with her fascination for human behavior.

So Vanessa quit public relations to begin the significantly more impoverished life of a professional writer.

Inspired by a recurring dream, Vanessa wrote her crime fiction debut,
The Enemy Inside
, which challenges the concept of justice, asks if the need for vengeance sometimes justifies murder, and explores whether you can ever heal from childhood abuse. The second book in this series,
Broken,
will be released in 2014. In her spare time, Vanessa wrote a short story,
The Piece,
which was published in February 2012 by Dark Prints Press as a part of the
One That Got Away
dark fiction anthology.

Vanessa now works as a freelance writer, lives in Sydney’s northern beaches, and tries to immerse herself in salt water at least once a day.