He had no idea.
And the painful ache…
It had only been slightly mollified when they shattered together. Temporarily muted, but not completely gone.
Maybe not for her either. She didn’t seem one bit surprised when he turned her to face him and drew her into his arms the next morning. This wasn’t like the night before. Her cunt was warm and ready when he wrapped her top leg around his waist. And after he slipped inside, there was no adjustment needed whatsoever. He cupped the back of her head and hugged her close, jerking both of their bodies up in the bed as he drove himself into her.
That morning as the sun came up over the Potomac River, the only sounds in the room were her soft gasps and his animalistic grunts as he took her again. But the painful ache still did not diminish. It became worse and worse.
Eventually, they managed to get showered and eat a little something. Then he drove them to the National Mall for a private tour of the National Museum of African American History and Culture—or as Dawn called it, The Black History Museum as if it were the only one in the world.
She was even more excited about this surprise than the cherry blossoms. “I’ve been trying to get down here since 2016 when it opened—you know, for Love Origins. This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough!”
Yet another pang of guilt pierced his chest. She was thanking him for his generosity, but they both knew the reason she hadn’t been able to make it down here. Because she hadn’t been allowed.
By now, he’d learned all about her thesis project. And after the tour was done and they were left to wander on their own, he confessed, “I can see how it would have been helpful to visit this place during the creation of your thesis. I am…sorry I didn’t allow you to come here earlier.”
The signs stuttered as they left his hands. Victor still wasn’t one to apologize. Ever. But she had never really known that about him. So she didn’t realize the significance of him doing so more than once. With her. Only with her.
And she surprised him by answering, “Don’t worry about it. I haven’t been able to look at a historical black anything for years without trying to incorporate it into my thesis or some other project I was working on in school. It’s kind of nice to be able to enjoy history for history’s sake for once.
History for history’s sake.
Beautiful words. But his heart chilled inside his chest.
He knew about the job in Pittsburgh. According to Phantom, who had looked into the offer for him, she had been specifically hired to work on an opening sequence revolving around the time of slavery in the U.S.
But she hadn’t said one word about this career opportunity to him. Not even to connect it to this museum visit that she could obviously still find useful.
Her omission left a bitter taste in his mouth as they walked back to the car and began the long trip back to Rhode Island.
Their silence wasn’t nearly as companionable as it had been the day before. And about halfway through the ride, Dawn pressed a finger into the console’s touch screen to turn the radio on again.
This time the radio station she chose was doing a “You Aught To Know” weekend, featuring a playlist of songs from the “the first decade of the millennium.”
Stiff and quiet in the front seat, they listened to songs from their youth. Neither of them enjoyed the “throwback” experience as much as the DJ seemed to think they would.
But then, a heavily synthesized clapping drum beat filled up the car. One Victor vaguely recognized, even though he rarely listened to American rap.
Was that…yes, it was. It was the same song that was playing overhead the first time he saw Dawn. At the Red Diamond nightclub in Roppongi.
And just in case, he thought he might be mistaken about that, Dawn yelled, “J-KWOOOOOONNNNNN!!!! I used to love this song. Yessssss! ‘Tipsy!’”
They had no alcohol. Nor were they in “the club.” But somehow, they both ended up seat-dancing to “Tipsy” for the next four minutes.
They fell out laughing when the song finally let them go. And Dawn clapped her hands excitedly when the DJ promised to play “Feels Good Inc.” by the Gorillaz when he returned from the commercial break.
“I loved that song too,” Dawn said with a fond laugh.
She leaned her head back against her seat and rolled it over to regard Victor, the look in her eyes as fond as the sound of her laughter. “I know you can’t answer because you’re driving, but this is exactly what I needed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy and relaxed before a presentation. So, thank you. Seriously, thank you.”
No, he couldn’t answer her. But a little bit of the ice that had encased Victor’s heart at the National African-American History Museum melted.
When the station came back from commercial break, he bopped his head to the Brit-pop classic as Dawn rapped and sang along with the lyrics, which unlike the ones to “Tipsy,” were much more appropriate to say out loud.
After that, another song started playing, and this one lit up Dawn’s face even more than the other two. “Oh, my God, it’s ‘Happy Ending’ by Mika! Byron used to love this guy!”
She tapped the touch screen, turning up the music.
Victor had never heard of the artist before but listened with an open mind…to what turned out to be an epically bittersweet song about a couple not getting a “happy ending.”
Despite the track’s gospel-like feel, his lightened mood immediately began to fade. And as it went on, the song drilled into a pool of wild melancholy Victor didn’t know he’d sealed up inside of his chest.
He looked sideways at Dawn. Was this affecting her in the same way?
Apparently, it was. Tears shone in her eyes as the Freddie Mercury-like singer mourned a breakup, singing with a deep emotional fervor that they would live the rest of their lives…just not together.
She wiped at her eyes. And when the singer started wailing his sorrow in the song’s dramatic rise, she abruptly punched her finger into the touchscreen’s power button and ended the song.
“Byron liked that guy way more than me,” she mumbled.
Victor didn’t respond. His heart was too heavy in his chest. She may have turned off the radio, but the song continued to resonate in the car as they drove. Getting closer to their destination, but also closer to the end. Of them.
Eventually, the sign for their Rhode Island exit appeared like a ray of light above the highway.
However, just as they merged into traffic on the busy street that would take them to their tony neighborhood in East Providence, she said, “I…I wish things had turned out differently. I can’t tell you how many times I wished that. Back in college—Mount Holyoke, not RhIDS—I used to do this silly thing where I imagined what it would’ve been like if we had gotten married, like you said. If my dad hadn’t raided your apartment and we’d been able to live out that dream. I mean, maybe we would’ve broken up like everybody else I knew who got married too young. But maybe we wouldn’t have.”
She let out a breath, audible and sad. “That what-if haunts me, you know. And I think it always will.”
Normally, Victor didn’t mind not being able to speak without his hands. But in this case, he abruptly cut through three lanes of traffic so that he could pull up to the closest curb, put the car in park, then lifted his hands to remind her, “You were always going to betray me. Don’t you act as if you and your father had anything else planned. I read the reports. Every single one.”
She visibly swallowed, her eyes widening a little bit. Then she said, “Okay,” and turned forward in her seat to close her eyes. As if she were trying to block him out.
Okay…
Feeling more “shook” than he wanted to, Victor turned to put the car in Drive.
But then she said in a rush, “What if I told you the police reports lied. That my dad lied. That I had no idea that he planted that camera in my school jacket, and I was just as surprised by the raid as you.”
She let out a shuddering
breath, her eyes still closed. “What if I told you my dad said all the things that he said in his report to protect me because he didn’t want me to go down with you. And I went along with it because I was only eighteen. And you were gone, and my dad was telling me all these horrible things, and…”
She finally opened her eyes and turned to look at him again. “And I didn’t know what to do. So I went along with it. I’m sorry, Victor. I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I loved you so much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did that. And I’m sorry your father died.”
She twisted her hands in her lap. “These last few weeks, they’ve been so… I don’t know, like everything I dreamed of when we were young, stupid kids. And I probably should let this go. We’re done on May 25th anyway. But I had to try. I had to try to tell you the truth.”
He stared at her. The woman who used to be the girl who broke his heart. He stared at her as all the planes crashed inside his head. He froze on the outside, but everything inside of him was crashing and burning.
Silence once again filled up the car. But this utter silence was much noisier than any of the other ones that came before it. Her words echoed, even louder than the bittersweet breakup song she’d blasted earlier in the ride.
Victor sat there for a very long time, not trusting himself. Especially to drive.
But he was Victor Zhang. The dragonhead his father had groomed. A man who knew not to show weakness, even when planes were blowing up in his sky.
Eventually, he calmed and put the car back in gear. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the outside of the house and signed, “Don’t forget your tote bag.”
She sniffled, even though her eyes were no longer filled with tears. “You’re not coming in?”
“Don’t forget your tote bag,” he repeated.
Another hesitation, but in the end, she climbed out. He heard the click of the back door opening, then closing again. And that was it. He was free to leave.
He watched her watch him go through the rearview mirror. She stood there with her cutesy tote as he drove away. Getting smaller and smaller until it was time for him to turn a corner.
He kept on driving, her words somehow becoming louder the further away he drove. And as soon as he got to the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone to text Phantom one command: Set up a meeting with Kuang.
29
DAWN
I told Victor the truth. I finally told Victor the truth I’d been holding back for ten years.
And he didn’t believe me.
A few minutes after I made my full confession, he pulled to a stop in front of my home-shaped prison and signed for me not to forget my bag. And that was it.
Our surprise mini-vacation ended with me grabbing my Aggretsuko tote from the back seat and him driving off before the rear door was fully closed.
So I guess he hated me again. I wished, not for the first time, that it was as easy for me to hate him back.
The rest of the day passed by without a peep from Victor—no surprise there.
And, you know what, it didn’t matter that he’d disappeared. Again. That he didn’t believe me. Again.
In fact, this was probably better.
Ten years after the first time he ghosted me, I knew exactly what to do when the silent beast bounced without a word of explanation. Keep it moving, Dawn. Don’t dwell on it. Just take the L and move on.
I focused on my work, just like I had before we agreed to that stupid game of pretend. I threw myself into getting everything ready for my soft presentation the next day and decided being alone was for the best.
With his intense presence and silent refusal to believe me, Victor would have only been a distraction.
And how had I expected the conversation to end anyway? I’d known he wouldn’t believe me. I’d known that for ten years. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. I was lucky I got out of that car without him threatening to kill my whole family again if I tried to make excuses for why I’d worked with my father to destroy his.
Still, the disappointment dogged me as I put the final touches on my presentation. And hollow loneliness set in when bedtime rolled around, and Victor still didn’t show up—just like I knew he wouldn’t.
It took me forever to fall asleep. And after I finally did, I tossed and turned and dreamed of terrible things I couldn’t remember the next morning when I woke up. Alone.
Still no Victor, so I didn’t bother with making us the kind of brunchy Sunday breakfasts I’d been going all out for over the last few weekends.
Again, this was for the best. I always got so nervous before speaking in public anyway. The last thing I wanted was pancakes and fruit compote coming up because I was trying to impress my monster of a husband with my breakfast-making skills.
I made myself some coffee, went over my notes one more time, and started setting up the presentation.
I positioned the projector and placed all the extra chairs I could find in the living room so people would have places to sit other than the floor.
I did a dry run of my presentation to make sure everything worked. It did. Still, my stomach was flip-flopping. I was trying my best not to miss Victor, but it was getting kind of hard.
He’d been weirdly good at reassuring me when I started fretting about whether I’d ever get Love Origins to where I wanted it in time for the presentation. Also, he’d brought me tea and snacks whenever I had to stay up late to get some class assignment or my part in a group project done on time.
And you know what feels really great when you’re bleary-eyed at two in the morning and seriously questioning your decision to become an animator in the first place? Tea and snacks.
But we were just pretending to be a real couple. I reminded myself that for the umpteenth time since he ditched my ass at the front gate. Me depending on him for emotional support was not how our relationship worked. And we could pretend all we wanted to. But when things got real, he disappeared. I needed to remember that. At least until May 26th.
My secret phone rang in my tote just as I was wondering if it was too early to put out the Costco trays of veggies and fruit to go along with the pizzas I had ordered.
See? Another good reason I should be glad Victor wasn’t here. He was the last person I wanted to know about my secret phone. And if someone had called while he was here, I would’ve had some explaining to do.
I pulled out the phone and frowned when I saw the name on the caller ID. Not Byron or mom, but someone who had never actually called me directly before, even when he wasn’t working.
“Dad, is everything okay?” I asked as soon as I picked up.
“Everything’s more than okay, sweet pea,” he answered with a wry laugh. “I’m calling with some good news. Your mom and I are moving to Virginia—near the D.C. area. I decided to transfer to a desk job at the DEA.”
I blinked, a little stunned. Not just because dad had essentially said that he was moving back to the East Coast. But also because I hadn’t actually known which international anti-crime organization he worked for. Apparently, it was the Drug Enforcement Administration. That explained a lot.
“That’s great news,” I said, recovering. “When will you guys be moving?”
“Actually. That was what I was calling to talk with you about. I’m moving us East next month, and I was hoping maybe you could come down.”
“I would… love that,” I answered, genuinely shocked at the invitation. “I’ll come for a visit after my thesis presentation. And maybe in June, you and mom can come up for my graduation from RhIDS.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Dad said with another wry chuckle. “You made up for a lot when you came down to sit with Doll before her surgery. Maybe she can swallow her pride now and watch you graduate from that art school. Good strategy.”
“Dad, that’s not why I came down.” Irritation made me grip the phone a little tighter. “You left her all alone in Texas. I was genuinely worried about her.”
“I know, I know, sweet pea. An
d believe me, I’m grateful. That surgery went off without a hitch. But I wouldn’t have ever forgiven myself if anything had gone wrong.” He cleared his throat. “I love your mama with all my heart. You too. You know that’s why I’m moving us back East, right? To help her and be closer to you.”
I lowered my chin, a little weirded out by my father’s emotional statement. We had never been the kind of family that said I love you all the time. It was always just assumed. “Dad, I love you too. But is everything all right?”
“Everything’s better than all right,” he assured me again. “Actually, I was hoping maybe you could come down a little earlier than June. Thing is, the Attorney General’s giving me a lifetime achievement award at this year’s International Law Enforcement Gala. It’s a little embarrassing. I keep on telling them I’m not all the way through my lifetime yet. I’m not even retiring for real. But they say I deserve it, so I guess I have to get all gussied up and go on ahead and accept this award for my service.”
I laugh at his self-deprecation. “Dad, that’s great! Wow! I’m so proud of you!”
“The thing is, your mama has some stuff she has to take care of in Texas. So she won’t be able to join me until June herself. But the ceremony’s in late May. Your brother is coming down for it, and I thought maybe you could too. You free on May 25th?”
I winced. “I’m so sorry, dad. That’s my big thesis showcase. If it were any day, but that day, I’d totally be there. I wouldn’t miss you getting this award for anything. But if I don’t present my thesis, then I won’t be able to graduate with my MFA.”
“You can’t get out of it? Maybe switch dates with somebody else?” My dad sounded legit disappointed.
“No, I can’t. Jacoby Pirelli, the head of the program, said absolutely no switches allowed.”
“Even if your dad is receiving a once-in-a-lifetime award?”
Guilt crashed over me in waves because I couldn’t even tell my dad the worst part. I’d used family as an excuse to get out of so many May 25th events. Jacoby wouldn’t even believe me if I tried to tell him that my former undercover agent dad was receiving a huge award. I was basically the grad student who called wolf.
Victor: Her Ruthless Owner: The VICTOR Trilogy Book 2 [50 Loving States, Rhode Island] (Ruthless Triad) Page 20