vnNeSsa1, page 22
“As long as we’re apologizing,” Lily says, turning her glorious auburn head my way. “I always just followed the witch even when I didn’t think it was right.” She pinches Jennifer’s lips together when Jennifer starts to protest. “We started out as such good friends and I want to go back to that, even if it’s long distance. Or maybe it won’t be long distance?”
The question hangs in the air. I hop up and give everyone a hug. Tink asks questions about what Lily said. The topic of conversation turns to the possibility of Tink and me returning to Las Vegas. I don’t say much. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
The later it gets, the more my mind goes to the letter from Victor. Maybe the others sense my distraction because they soon say good night with a promise to wake us before they leave in the morning.
In my room alone, I carefully unseal the envelope and smooth out the pages full of his words. As I read, it’s as though he’s in the room with me.
My Bonita,
Tink agreed to give you this letter only after I begged her to for a week. Please don’t be mad at her. I understand why you sent me away from the hospital. I understand why you haven’t wanted to see me since. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know what I was thinking at the time. I want you to know that I know I was wrong. I especially want you to know how sorry I am.
The night Liam came to your apartment, I didn’t dream you were one of his victims. I had pushed all such possibilities out of my mind; I didn’t want to see it. I was undercover and had to make a snap decision: break cover and get you out of there or wrap everything up as fast as possible. It was a no-brainer to save you. But then Tink would have gone with Liam. We didn’t have enough evidence at that point. You wouldn’t have forgiven me if she was lost to him.
I knew there was a big meeting within a matter of days and I was set to wear a wire. So, I thought, for a few days, you would be OK. I was so wrong. I’m so sorry, Bonita. When I walked out your door, I died inside. It felt wrong. I waited around the corner of the building and swore if Liam didn’t come out in fifteen minutes, I was going back in. After he left, I sat outside your door all night and argued with myself. I can’t tell you how many times I almost went back inside.
I watched you drive away from me twice. It felt like my heart was getting ripped out. The second time, I knew the meeting was the next day. I was afraid you were going to do something rash. Still, I decided to keep with the plan. I made the wrong choice again. I have been stupid, Bonita.
Another difficult confession, my love. You’ve read various accounts of how the FBI knew you had been kidnapped and taken to Howard Harrington’s, but here’s the true version. I knew who you were. I swear to God, though, I didn’t know you had amnesia.
I recognized what happened to you on the boat at Lake Mead. You had a flashback. It has happened to plenty of police and others who go through a traumatic situation. You were also one of Liam’s victims, so I knew you might be under eighteen. And you reacted strongly when I called you “Van.” I ran those facts through the FBI’s database. The best fit was a story about your father drowning in a rafting accident and a daughter presumed dead as well. I dug further and came across a couple of suspicious missing persons. The closest link to them was Harrington. That’s how I knew to go to his home.
The night of the meeting when I was wired, I could feel you in the room. I swear I knew you were there even before Josie was caught. I closed the cupboard where you were hiding, intending to get you out as soon as I delivered my wire to my partners. I was sick when I got back and you weren’t there.
From then on, I was always one step behind you. First, I was too late at the hotel in New York. The staff directed us to the bald guy who was heading to lunch at the hotel. When we leaned on him, he told us the location of the apartment. Then, at the apartment, management said you had left a minute before. We found Liam where you left him. It’s a good thing he’s in protective custody and they know my personal involvement. I would end him if they let me near him.
My colleagues told me I was on my own if I wanted to go after you. I was in trouble for getting involved with one of the victims (you). I kept my job only because I broke the case. I was young to be put undercover on such a big job, perfect to get close to the girls for information, though. The FBI thought it was safe because I was engaged when the job started. The day I first saw you in the theater, Bonita, I broke it off with her. No more secrets. You need to know everything in my heart.
I was also on my own in Chicago because the FBI had what they wanted. They wanted Liam. That’s why I was alone at Harrington’s, Bonita. I didn’t have enough proof about Harrington for them to go chasing off to Chicago. I called in back-up once I got there, but again, I was too late. Always too slow. I saw you go flying off that wall and hit the water. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.
I wish I had chosen differently in the beginning. In my mind, I replay it. I punch Liam in the face. I take you in my arms and we go away together. In this version, you don’t forgive me for Tink, but at least we’re together.
Now, you don’t forgive me because you think I sacrificed you for my job. Or, I just wasn’t there for you. Whatever it is, you don’t forgive me and we’re not together.
Bonita, give me a chance to make it up to you. I love you with everything that makes me breathe. I’ll love you as long as I live. There is no one else for me but you.
Be with me, my love.
Victor
My fingers can’t make the movements to fold the letter back up and place it back in the envelope. Everything is too heavy. My arms. My head.
There is only numbness. The place to go when the pain becomes too much. Victor’s motives were pure. He loves me. There’s only one thing greater than his love for me. My love for him. To prove it, I have to let him go.
“Savannah? Are you all right?” Tink has poked her head around my bedroom door. I raise my head off my desk and just look at her, dry eyed. “You’re scaring me. Say something.”
“It’s not his fault. He’s not the one to blame.”
I put my head back on my folded arms. When she doesn’t leave, I say, “Please, I just need some time.”
Tink pulls me out of my chair, leads me over to the bed and tucks me in. Then she curls herself around me and holds me until I fall asleep.
Chapter 33
My numbness is threatening to desert me. I felt it creeping away when my friends left this morning. It hurt to see them go. Especially Ian with his puppy dog eyes, who looked as if he was about to cry. I’m so grateful we’re all still friends. Even so, I felt guilty and sad, not numb.
Now, sitting in this classroom, Victor’s letter keeps haunting me. Can’t think about that now. I’ll die. To distract myself, I put all my effort into listening to the teacher. What a waste. It’s obvious he’s counting the days until his retirement. So are the students.
My gaze roves around the classroom, past the other students, and finally rests outdoors. It looks cold and dreary, suiting me fine. I look at an airplane in the sky. My heart squeezes. My friends must be back in Las Vegas by now. Everyone is gone or lost to me but Tink. I’m hurting most about Victor and my parents. My mind is pulled back to the last day at the cabin…
“Sit down, Daddy. I’ll make you some breakfast.” That last day, he brought me up to the cabin to talk to me, and he had such a tough time getting started. He had always thought your kids would talk better if you didn’t look directly at them and you engaged in some mutual activity. He must have read it in a book. So I made him breakfast.
“Van, you know how besides your mom’s research, I invest in businesses that I think are going to make a lot of money? And I’ve given money to Howard Harrington in the past because he has an uncanny talent with investments. Well, I’m sorry to tell you Harrington is not a good person.”
“I know what venture capitalism is, Daddy, and I know Howard Harrington is slimy.” He winced then and I remembering wondering whether I had said something wrong.
“Let me get this all out, sweetheart. It’s difficult.” And I stopped mixing pancakes because my father was very pale. “Howard was using some of our money to get close to politicians.” When I made a face, he said, “It gets worse, Van.
“A few years ago, Howard bought three hotels with the money. He did this through a shield corporation, untraceable to him. Occasionally there’s activity that goes on in these hotels with very beautiful, very young girls with much older men.” The counter slammed into my back. If it had been possible to leap down the sink’s drain, I would have done it to escape his words.
“How do you know this?” Fear for my dad made my voice shake.
“Oh, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter—the best private investigator over months, artfully placed microphones, following people. It took time because Howard’s careful, but his egotism trapped him in the end. He boasts, you see.”
I’m wracking my brain trying to remember whether he mentioned cities that the hotels were in. Of course, he must have. It wasn’t a coincidence my ending up in Las Vegas. But it was unreal that I ended up working in a hotel that Howard owns. Originally, I was just running blind. But, maybe unconsciously I was hoping to rescue some girls. Silly me.
My dad went on for another half-hour. My appetite had completely gone but I made breakfast for us anyway, too restless to stay still. After we’d eaten and my father paused for a breath, I told him to stop talking.
“But, Van, there’s more.”
“Later, Daddy. Let’s go rafting. We have plenty of time.”
My head goes down on my desk. How I wish we had never gone rafting. There’s so much I wish. I wish Victor could teach me how to ride horses up at the cabin…
The tears come.
“Vannessa!”
Now what? I drag my head up and my heart stops. Just like always when I see him. Victor’s putting his badge away. There’s dead silence in the room and everyone is staring at me. All I can do is stare dumbly at him. Yes, there he is, my Victor, standing right there, amusement in his eyes.
“Vannessa, come up here, please.” Victor doesn’t wait; instead, he heads straight for me. He grips me around the waist so it doesn’t hurt my shoulder, half lifts me out of my seat, and hauls me out the door. I catch a few expressions on the way out. The other students’ mouths are hanging open. I suppose mine is, too.
He doesn’t say anything, just walks fast, holding on to my good arm and maneuvering the school corridors as quickly as he can.
“What are you doing?” I say when I manage to catch my breath.
“I’m going to listen to whatever it is you’re afraid to tell me,” he says, supremely confident. “And then most likely I’m taking you home to California with me for the holidays.” He holds up the hand that’s not dragging me when I start to protest.
“You’ll have all the time you’ll need to talk. Listen a minute.
“Tink texted me last night. She said you said ‘He’s not to blame.’ I’ve been so stupid. I should have known you’ve been blaming yourself in some way. So, my Bonita, my love, if it isn’t me, what is it about you that is so bad, so horrible that we can’t be together? And let me make up my own mind about you. Don’t make up my mind for me. OK, I’m listening.”
We’re at the front of the school now. He’s leaning against some government-looking, black car, looking gorgeous. He’s making me so mad.
“You think you know me? Let’s see how you feel about your Bonita after you really know her.” I spit out the words like bullets. Damn. I’m starting to cry. Victor’s quiet, waiting.
So I tell him.
“Howard Harrington raped my mother when they were college students at Stanford. She got pregnant. My dad didn’t know who the father was—he guessed, or she told him before she died—but he loved her and married her. Howard Harrington is my biological father.” I wait for a reaction and get none.
“Ten months ago, when she was dying from cancer, my mom told me that my dad was not my biological father. She thought I had a right to know that much, but refused to tell me who my biological father was.” I brush my tears away and lean against the car, too, fearing my legs will give way. This is the part when I know I’m going to lose him. I feel sick.
“Last summer, my dad and I were rafting on the river and I was missing my mom, thinking about her constantly. The three of us always went rafting together. And then my dad had been talking about Howard that morning and it hit me, smacked me in the face, who raped my mom. I went insane. I screamed it out at my dad. Even with the roar of the river, he knew what I was saying. He tried to put his arms around me—” I break off at this point. I’m crying and can’t look at Victor. Victor says nothing. He needs to know it all, so I go on.
“I took it out on my dad. I never liked Howard. He seemed like such a jackass. My own dad was perfect. I hated the truth. When he tried to hug me, I pushed him away as hard as I could. He lost his balance and fell in the water. The whole raft nearly tipped over. The guide jumped in, I thought to help, but he tried to drown him instead. I watched my dad die and it was my fault.” There’s silence. I risk a look at Victor’s face. He blinks, but that’s all.
“Then in the hospital, I got letters from universities all over the country. Shrinks wanting to study me because I’m such a rare and unusual case of amnesia.” Bitter tears stream down my face. It takes all my willpower to keep my chin up.
“So how do you feel about me now? Your Bonita is the spawn of a psychopath. I caused the death of my father and I’m such a headcase, psychologists all around the country want to study me.” And I’m sure as hell not pretty because snot is running down my face.
Victor still says nothing. His eyes look as bitter cold to me as the air around us.
“Go ahead, reject me! I’m ready this time!” I must have screamed this. Suddenly, there are a lot of people around. It must be between classes. They’re all staring.
He slowly blinks. “I was just waiting for you to get to the part where you’re a terrible person.” Now his damn eyes are twinkling. I want to kiss him and punch him at the same time. But hope tries to come alive in me and I try to smother it.
“Have you heard anything at all that I’ve said?”
He wipes my nose with the sleeve of his jacket. “Every word, Bonita,” he says, very serious. “You are not your genes. You are not like Howard. You are good. You are always thinking of others. Look how you stopped at nothing to get to Tink. You sacrificed yourself at Harrington’s to keep me safe. You left Las Vegas to protect me in the beginning, didn’t you? And, you hardly spent money you thought was stolen. Except for the Z4, but I’ve noticed you have a thing about cars. And the money turns out to be yours, right?”
I nod, sniffing, shivering, my tears slowing down. “My dad hid it in the cabin at the lake. It was like he was preparing for something bad to happen.”
“Your dad falling into the water was an accident. Of course you were upset. It was a horrible way to find out about things. And about your being a headcase—you lost your mother, saw your father murdered, and found out the person who had him murdered was your biological father. I’d want to forget who I was, too. Nothing—not one thing you’ve told me, Bonita—changes the way I feel about you. I love you. Completely. Now come to me.”
And I do.
He crushes me in an embrace and kisses me as if he’ll never let me go again. He remembers my shoulder and tries to ease his grip, but I won’t let him. I feel myself come alive for the first time since he walked out of my apartment in Las Vegas. When he’s done kissing me, I whisper how much I love him.
“I thought I’d lost you forever,” I murmur against his neck, breathing in his smell, remembering the same wonderful scent the first time he sat next to me in the theater in Las Vegas.
“I don’t give up that easy, believe me,” Victor says, his voice rough.
“I thought if you knew me you wouldn’t love me.”
“I love you more.” He kisses me and it would seem he does.
Chapter 34
A crowd has gathered and we hear hooting and shouting. A couple of enterprising people have whipped out their cell phones, are recording us, and will no doubt upload our affectionate moment to the highest media bidder. I couldn’t care less.
“What’s this about going to California?” I ask, touching his face. It’s hard to stop touching him, reminding myself that this is all real. “What about Tink? And school?”
“My parents have a little ranch north of LA. They’re expecting us.” I find myself snorting at the “little ranch” part. “Tink’s coming with us, of course. And the school thinks you’re on official Bureau business. It’s only a few days before the holiday break anyway.”
“And after the break?” I sound anxious.
“I’m not letting you go. I’m not making that mistake again,” he says, gripping me until it almost hurts. “Besides, I believe you’re still in danger, so I’ll be in Chicago until you graduate. Then we’ll talk about where we’ll go. Tell me about what Howard was after.”
“Later. We have plenty of time for that. Just hold me now.” Victor wraps his arms around me and smoothes my hair with his long fingers. Soon I feel warm and the shivering stops.
The truth is, even with all the heartache about Victor and my parents, I’ve been worried about Howard and the evidence he wants so badly. Why didn’t he kill me in the car? He was two feet away. He must realize I really do know where it is. I have no doubt, next time, after he tortures it out of me, he will kill me for sure.
“Bonita, at least tell me if you gave him what he wanted,” Victor says, pulling away, putting his hands on the sides of my face.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you have what he wants?” His face is very worried.
“Yes. Well, sort of,” I say, avoiding his eyes. “It’s out of the country.”
