vnNeSsa1 (22 page)

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 rest
s 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 stop
ped 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…

T
he 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 yo
u 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 slow
ly 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 s
aid?”

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.”

“I don’t like the sound of this, Bonita,” Victor says, keeping my face in his hands until I look at him. When I do, his eyes are filled with love and concern. “Howard is dangerous. He almost killed you. And he’s not the only one you need to be protected from.”

“What are you talking about?” I don’t like the sound of this.

“Liam is going to be a witness for the prosecution against people higher up in his organization. These other people are so valuable that Liam may not even serve time. He may go into witness protection. I’ve seen him on video, Bonita. When he talks about you, he changes. You got to him in some way. If he comes near you, I’ll kill him.”
Scary Victor is back.

“It won’t come to that, Victor,” I say, taking his hands in mine, trying to kiss the
expression off his face. Enough of this serious talk.

“You know, Liam should be hurt for interrupting us at my apartment. Remember?” I ask, moving right up against him.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, pulling me closer, his hands caressing my back. “When are you eighteen?”

“Next week,” I say, starting to get mad. “If you say one word about you can wait because you’re a patient man, I’m going to scream.”

“Maybe you don’t know me at all,” he says, his intense expression turning even scarier. I kind of like this Victor.

He kisses me in a way he’s never kissed me before
, with nothing held back. He keeps at it, seeming to forget we’re in front of a high school full of impressionable youth. I’m hoping fervently that he continues to act so terribly unprofessional.

His hands are in places they shouldn’t be
when there’s a commotion nearby. A TV crew is headed our way. Victor starts swearing in Spanish. I throw in a few Spanish curse words of my own. We duck into the FBI car. He doesn’t say much on the drive to my home. It’s odd that he makes the drive as though he’s made it dozens of times. Maybe he has.

Victor grabs my purse and backpack and still manages to open the car door for me. He’s borderline rude to the media that have been al
erted to our arrival.

“Give us privacy,” he growls and they back off, not as attracted to scary Victor as I am.

He, of course, finds my keys in my purse, lets us in and says simply, “Which room?”

I lead him to my room.

At the door, I drop his hand and face him.

“One thing, Daniel Vicario
. See these Harley’s?” I say, bending a knee and pointing to a wicked black boot. “I received these and a knife as a gift from a strange but nice woman who hunted me down. I will use them on your ex-fiancée or any leftover groupie who stalks you. Understood?”

Victor nods slowly, taking me very seriously. As he should.

He reaches for me and then pulls me onto the bed.

If I doubted his love before, proof of it lay on his bare chest in the form of
a little lapis horse strung through with leather, a gift from me many weeks ago.

“You made it into a necklace,” I say, reaching to touch it, hearing the wonder in my voice.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The time for words is over.

I’d like to say it’s a mutual dance, but it’s not. That
happens the second time. The first time I realize just how much he’s been exerting self-control and how difficult it has been for him. The only time it’s gentle is when he knows it’s going to be painful for me, right in the beginning. He whispers my name, Vannessa, a breath, a caress. He looks in my eyes and I see pain that he is causing me pain but also a primal triumph that he is my first love.

He talks with his body and tells me he’s so sorry he didn’t do things differently
, didn’t protect me, was scared to death he was going to lose me, would die if I died. He makes me feel sensations I never knew existed, takes me places I don’t want to return from. He’s powerful and confident, but changed. He’s lost the swagger. He talks and talks and I meet him where he is because I have held back too and I love him just as passionately.

Lying
in his arms afterward, trembling, quiet, humbled by the enormity of what just happened, I look up at him. “Message received.”

Long afterward
, when we are ready to be done for the time being, Victor says, “You need to tell me more about Howard, even if you’re not ready. I’m not losing you now.”

So I tell him what my dad told me. When I get to the part about recorded conversations between Howard and p
oliticians using his connections for “elite,” underage girls, Victor shakes his head.

“
Those tapes are inadmissible evidence in court, Bonita.”

“That’s what my dad said. He said Howard’s not afraid of the legal system. He’s afraid of the politicians. He’s afraid the politicians will have him killed so the evidence doesn’t come to light.”

Victor runs a finger thoughtfully across my hip bone.

“Hmm, yes; the girls are underage, so it’s not like when other politicians have been caught with prostitutes.
It’s much more serious. Bonita, this information is mind-blowing. I need to see your evidence to know the extent of Howard’s involvement.”

He trails his fingers along my lower belly, making
my muscles contract.

“Do you question all your subjects this way, FBI man?” My eyes close. This is bliss.

“Only the gorgeous ones, with long legs, whom I deflower.”

I snort.

“And who snort.” He continues trailing his fingers around my body, ignoring my sighs, smiling devilishly. “You said the evidence is out of the country. Where?”

“
vnNeSsa1 is the password to the file of evidence on a password-protected laptop. The laptop is buried on the grounds of my mother’s childhood home in Mexico.” The surprise on Victor’s face makes me laugh.

“That’s how you know Spanish,” he breathes. “Perfect.”
He rolls on top of me, suddenly ending the interrogation.

We’ve showered, thrown clothes into a suitcase for Tink and me, and we’re waiting in front of the high school for her as it’s letting out. We’ve made it just in time and aren’t about to get out of the car to battle the media. Victor has sent her a text. We’ll make our flight just in time if we hurry.

“What’s the emergency?” she asks
breathlessly, and then adds, “About time,” looking pointedly at Victor and me.

I grin at her.
“We’re all going to California,” I say, as Victor pulls away from the curb.

“Oh. OK…I’ll check the weather there,” she says, and presses the touch screen on her cell.

I twist around to look at my best friend in amazement. The most adaptable, resilient person in the world. Then I look at Victor, who brings my hand up to his lips. His eyes are luminous. I’m with the two people I love most in the world and their light blasts out of the car and covers the earth. I sit back in my seat and close my eyes, feeling joy so great it’s painful.

“Bonita, are you OK?” Victor asks.

“I’m good,” I say.

It’s true.
Victor was right. I had been overlooking the good in me. I didn’t turn into bad Vannessa when my memory returned. Instead, I became a blend of Savannah and Vannessa and that’s OK. It’s like my parents saw into the future when they called me Van. I look at Victor. His face couldn’t be more readable. There’s love for me all over it. There’s also anxiety.

“Really, I’m good,” I say. His face relaxes. He mouths the words
, “I love you.”

I just look at him. And I know pure love shines out at him.

“Message received,” he says with a sweet smile meant only for me.

***

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