by Huss, JA
The notes to God are nothing but begging. Begging God to spare her lover’s life in any number of ways. Please don’t let him be shot. Please don’t let him be captured. Please don’t let him get blown up.
God was not listening, because Tony did get blown up. Into so many pieces nothing came home to be buried.
I read her fears and it breaks my heart that this is how she lived for three years. In between the journal entries to Tony and God are the poems. All sad poems. The Sail poem is there too, and it says flat out that it’s about death. It’s about Death taking her Tony and ripping away her innocence. It’s dated last year, not even related to this trip at all. That pink note was a desperate attempt to let people know how she was unable to cope with the loss.
The journal entries during the last months of her pregnancy were pretty happy. Ashleigh believed Tony was in a safer position, her worries were mostly about gaining weight, the baby not being healthy, being sick at the end.
And then… the day.
The day she learned about Tony’s death.
It says only one word over and over—Why?
No other entries until New Year’s Day this year.
It’s a note to God.
Dear God,
Thank you for sending me Ford.
He’s perfect.
Thank you so, so much.
Ashleigh Li
Below that is another poem.
I’ve been searching for you
It’s always been you
Hearts and grace
You take me from this broken place
I’ll search for you
It will always be you
On my way home, all alone
In everything I do, I’ll search for you
I want your lips in a kiss
It’s true, I love you
I’ll always be searching for you
Because you are my saving grace
You take me from this broken place
I stare at those words for what seems like hours. I read it over and over and over. And then I go back to the computer and look for this one too. It takes me a while to find the original online because there’s two versions of this song. I listen to both several times before deciding this poem came from The Maine, Saving Grace, Take 2.
This song just rips my heart out.
And she thanked God for me. I am her saving grace?
I toss the journal down on the couch and go take a shower so I can get dressed for work. I’ll be useless today, but all they want is the appearance that I give a shit about this project right now.
I do give a shit about this project. I want this project. We’re leaving in a week for New Zealand to start filming. They’re just rehearsing right now, a part of the production I’m not required to participate in, that’s the director’s job. But they want me to show an effort? I can do that.
I dress in my best suit, then stumble over that little yellow ducky as I come out of the closet in the bedroom.
Kate. God, no more Kate. No more Ash. And the last fucking impression she’ll have of me is being a controlling asshole, making demands of her out by the pool.
She wants the grand gesture. She wants the fairy tale.
But she’s in the middle of a nightmare right now. I only hope they took her home and not to some hospital.
I lock the door behind me and get in my Audi. I need the air conditioning today. It’s warm and I don’t want the windows open. I want to block out the world and not participate in it. The studio is not that far away and when I get there I go through the motions. I shake hands, laugh about my ridiculous luck in getting to LA in the Bronco. Explain my emotional attachment to the truck and why I needed to save it. They are all sappy artists, they totally understand my eccentricities. That’s one thing I always loved about being in the art community—they pretty much accept everyone. It does not matter how weird you are, they like weird.
And I think this show will be a hit. It’s got every popular trope going right now.
I waste hours chatting these people up, but on the inside I replay Ashleigh’s words over and over in my mind.
I want to be won, Ford. If you can win me, you can have me. I’ll be yours and you’ll have earned it.
I hold it together until the day is finally over at six-thirty, and then get back in my car and drive home. I stop at the gate, but not because I need to enter a code.
It’s open.
Did I close it before I left?
My heart races as I drive up the hill, hoping that somehow Ashleigh found a way to come back, but when I get up to the house I almost crash the car into the garage door before I snap out of my surprise.
Rook is sitting on my doorstep.
Chapter Forty-Two
She stands up and waits for me to get out of the car but I just sit for a few seconds, staring at her. Why is she here? Did she leave Ronin? I open the door and get out, then close it gently, like noise will disrupt the fabric of the universe and bring it all crashing down upon me. I walk over to her and stand there. She’s got her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her shoulder slightly hunched, and her eyes are wide with expectation.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For taking advantage of our friendship. For taking you for granted. For not giving more. I’m sorry, Ford. I had no idea I was hurting you. I do love you, you have to know that. I do. It’s just…” She stops to take a deep breath. “It’s just… you’re right. It’s not the same way that I love Ronin. Not that it’s bad,” she adds hurriedly. “It’s not bad, just different. And I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my life. I’m going crazy here, Ford. I’m desperate to prove to you that I’m more than just a Taker. I’m a Giver, Ford. I want to give you whatever it is that will make you happy and bring you back into my life. I do.”
“Where’s Ronin?”
“Back home.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“Yes. I told him I needed to sort this out.”
“How long are you staying?”
“As long as you want me to.”
“What do you want from me, Rook?”
“I want for you to love me, Ford. Like you did before this happened. I want for you to love me like that again. Because this”—she waves her arms in the air in an all-encompassing gesture—“this is not working for me. I can’t stand this, Ford. I need you. You’re my best friend.”
I unlock the door and wave her in, then follow. “Have you eaten?” She looks like she’s lost some weight.
“No, I’m not hungry.”
I throw my keys down on the counter and shake my head. “I have no idea what to say to you, Rook. A week ago I would’ve been thrilled that you came all this way to see me.” I look over at her face as she internalizes this and fuck. She’s upset.
She turns away and walks over to the door, but I’m there before her hand touches the handle. “No. No, you’re not walking away. I’m not running away. We’re gonna have to figure this out, Rook. Because I do love you. I do. I’m not sure what it means, but you’re important to me and what I did to you was wrong. I was—” I breathe deeply. “I was just hurting so badly that night. And I had that speech prepared, I was planning that escape. And even though I told myself it wasn’t to confuse you and make you feel what I was feeling, that’s exactly why I did it. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to miss me and regret not choosing me.”
She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and I feel like total shit. Rook is not a crier. She holds pretty much everything inside, so the fact that I’m making her cry right now… well, that’s painful too. “Don’t. Please. Don’t cry over this. I’m not worth it. I’m a total piece of shit.”
“Ford,” she says in a soft voice. She turns into me and throws her arms around my neck and hugs me. “You are worth it. To me, you are worth it. I can’t stand this. I can’t stand knowing that I was making you so upset all those months. All those months I was so hap
py and content and you were miserable. It—” She chokes back a sob. “It breaks my heart, Ford.”
I hug her back. “Did you leave Ronin?”
She pulls back to look at me. “Do you want me to leave Ronin?”
“Answer my question. I’m tired of the games.”
“No, I didn’t leave him. I love him. He’s my one, Ford. But you’re friendship is important to me. I need you. I can’t picture my life without you. Please, just tell me what I need to do to make this better.”
I am the biggest piece of shit alive. I win all the piece of shit awards.
I hug her close and breathe her in. “Rook, you’re a living goddess to me. You’re the most tragically beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I love you so much. I’d do anything for you, you know that right?”
She pushes back a little so she can look up at me.
“But you’re right. It’s just a very special friendship. We’re friends. It’s taken me a while, but I finally get it. You belong to Ronin, Rook. And I’m so sorry that I caused all this bullshit with my childish actions.” She nods into my chest and breathes out a long sigh. “I might’ve found my one in this girl I was on the road with. But the shit just hit the fan this morning and to be honest, I could use a friend’s advice on what to do about it all.”
She turns her head up to me again and then wipes her eyes. “You can ask me, Ford. I’m pretty bad at making good decisions, but I’ll do my best to help you sort it out.”
“Let’s go eat first. You look so thin, Rook. I don’t like it.”
“I know,” she says, sniffling. “I can’t eat when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m sorry. But I’m not mad anymore, so let’s go get steaks at Mastro’s. Have you ever been?”
She snorts. God, I’ve missed her snorts. “Every time I come to LA, I hit up Mastro’s first.”
And just like that our fight is wiped away. We drive down the hill into Beverly and have dinner. Ashleigh is still weighing heavily on my mind. I feel like I’m wasting time, like I need to be doing something right now. But it’s not good to act impulsively. I need information and advice. And Rook is my sounding board. I tell her everything. We are friends. Best friends. And that’s exactly how it feels. Like this girl is the only person on this whole planet who won’t judge me, no matter what I tell her.
She listens to the entire story—laughing at the funny parts, crying her blue eyes out when I describe Ashleigh at the cemetery, and then sighing with sadness when I describe the scene this morning at my house.
“What should I do, Rook?”
“She wants you to sweep her off her feet, Ford.”
“Yeah, but she’s gone. How the hell?”
“You’re the genius,” she says, taking a drink of her soda. “I’m sure you can come up with something. There has to be a way to get her away from them and not have her committed in the process. Can’t you just hack into her father’s shit and fuck it up?”
I laugh at her silliness. “No, he’s big time. He’s dirty, like me. He’s not going to sit back and let me fuck with his multi-billion-dollar pharmaceutical business.”
“So you have to make it personal then, right?”
“Yeah,” I sigh. I look down at my watch. “Pam has you booked first class on the eleven-fifteen flight back to DIA. You can’t spend the night. Ronin will be pissed.”
She takes my hand and pouts. “Are you sure, Ford? I can smooth things out with Ronin if you need my help.”
“No, I need to think. I’ll drive you to the airport.”
It’s hard to say goodbye to Rook when I drop her off at LAX Departures, but she needs to go home where she belongs and I need to come up with a plan, and that plan involves another phone call to Merc. I take out my phone and press Adam.
Merc answers on the second ring. “Yeah.”
“I need a big Merc.”
“I hope to God that baby-fucking-sitter didn’t steal your kid and you went apeshit and killed her and now you need to escape the country under the assumed name of BJ Cobbledick.” He pauses. “Or something.”
I know better than to feed Merc’s insults so I ignore that whole fucking outburst. “I need dirt, Merc. Lots of dirt.”
“What’s the name?”
“Damian Li, owner of Li Pharmaceutical Imports, based in Tijuana. How fast can you get it?”
“Depends, Ford.” I hear keystrokes and know he’s looking right now. “He’s big time. You sure you wanna mess with him?”
“I’m in love with his daughter and he took her away this morning.”
“Give me a few days.”
“I’m leaving for location filming a week from today. I need it before then.”
“Got it.”
I press end on the phone and tuck it back into my coat pocket. I finish the drive home in silence. I’m missing them. I’m missing Ashleigh’s antics and Kate’s gummy smile. This is the first night in a week that we’ve been apart and I am missing them.
I park the Audi and look longingly over at the Bronco, picturing our road trip. Those were the best seven days of my life. Truly. I get out and go inside, not even bothering to turn on the lights until I get to Kate’s room.
It’s wrong for it to be empty. Just wrong.
I think about my plan as I take in her things. Her little crib that is not nearly good enough for her. She deserves something fancy and pink. This one is just a portable fold-up thing that Pam got in a hurry. No love went into choosing it. If I get them back, we’ll buy all this stuff again. We’ll spend lots of time mulling over every little detail.
But right now I need to think about the job. Because the risks this time are so much higher than money and prison time.
This time, I’m risking my heart.
Chapter Forty-Three
The downtown San Diego office of Damian Li, CEO of Li Pharmaceuticals is not what I expected.
One, it’s not an office building like one might imagine houses other large corporations around the world. And two, it’s not some waterfront warehouse that one might imagine houses an international drug smuggler.
No. Damian Li’s office is actually a craftsman-style bungalow in Hillcrest.
A house. A fucking house smack on Sixth Avenue, in the middle of one of the largest gay communities in California, across from Balboa Park, with no fucking off-street parking. I drive past to make sure I know where the place is, then hang a right onto Laurel and go down a few blocks until I see the brightly colored lavender building and hang a left into the alley where a tall, thirty-something blonde woman waves out a hello. I unlock the doors and she opens the passenger side and gets in with a whoosh.
“I told you it was easy to find,” she says, dragging her seatbelt across her chest. California has its people trained well. We are going two blocks down the road, but the seatbelt action is instantaneous and automatic.
“Well.” I nod up at the building. “It’s the only fucking purple office building on Laurel. Not exactly stealthy.”
“No, we’re not about being stealthy here.” She chuckles at her inside joke.
“Right.” I look over her clothes and give her the once-over, then proceed down the alley so I can get back over to Sixth Avenue. “Well, you clean up nice. That outfit is perfect.”
“Thanks, I had a little help, but yeah. I like the business classy look. I might adopt it in the future.”
“Good for you,” I say absently as I search for an on-street parking spot. “Who the fuck has an office with no parking?”
“I thought you said he does business in TJ?”
I shoot her a dirty look. “Just remember when we get inside, no talking. You nod or look to me for guidance, got it?”
She waves her hand at me like I’m the one annoying her. “There!” she exclaims, pointing. “That guy’s pulling out. Quick, put your blinker on and—”
I reach over and place my hand over her mouth. “No. Talking. I know how to parallel park, for fuck’s sake. Stop mothering me.”
She rolls her eyes when I move my hand and wait for the car to pull out, then I slip in and straighten out the Audi. I let out a deep breath and look over at my accomplice. “Please, just whatever you do, don’t fuck this up. I only have one chance.”
She holds up three fingers on her right hand. “Scout’s Honor.”
“That is just so unnecessary.”
She snickers.
Please, God, I know I don’t check in often since I’m pretty good at figuring this life shit out myself, but please, do not let this woman fuck up my plan. I beg you. You totally owe Ashleigh.
And then I get out of the car and walk down the street and cut over to Sixth Avenue to Damian Li’s home office. It’s a modest place for a man of his stature, but real estate is at a premium here, so it’s a much bigger deal than it looks like from the street. I walk up the expansive porch supported by the signature craftsman-style pillars, and then tap the large square knocker on the equally impressive front door.
Mr. Li greets us personally.
How quaint.
“Mr. Aston.” He smiles a fake smile. I might not be Ronin, but I can finger the fakeness as well as anyone. “It’s nice to see you again. You’re looking well.” He steps out of the way and waves me forward. “Come in, please.”
He eyes my companion with a slight narrowing of his eyes, but that’s all. To her credit, she says nothing. We are directed through the reception room and down a hallway to the office. “Do you live here?” I should not be worried about it, but I can’t help myself. What the fuck is up with the house-slash-office in Hillcrest?
“No. It’s a business property, used for… recruitment.”
“Ah,” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. “I see.”
Li takes a seat at a massive desk. There are diplomas on the wall and this is yet another thing that takes me off task. “You’re a doctor?”
“Not my certificates, I’m afraid. I have employees who man this house when it’s in use. Please,” he says, motioning to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.” And then he looks at my accomplice and nods. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”