You Own Me (Owned Book 1)
Page 24
I stayed up all night thinking about what Vic had told me the previous morning. The entire day we hadn’t said a word to each other. Now, in the darkness, I lied in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind churning. It was four in the morning, Vic was next to me. I don’t know if he was asleep, but at that point I didn’t care. Questions swirled in my chest, burning me from the inside and demanding to be answered.
“Was there ever any threat?” I whispered. When he didn’t respond I turned on my side to face his dark profile and practically screamed. “Was there?”
His cool, calm voice drifted in to the dark air. “No.”
I felt like such an idiot. Worse than that, I felt guilty. Guilty for letting myself believe the lie because I wanted to believe the lie. Anything to be closer to him.
Closing my eyes tight, I looked away from him. His eyes had mesmerized me from the start but I wouldn’t be hypnotized now.
“Lennox listen to me.” Vic reached for me but I snapped my arm away.
My voice was barely above a whisper when I responded. “I wanted to believe that we were more than just secrets and lies.”
“Lennox, listen to me. We are!”
“Are we?” I popped my eyes open, immediately assaulted by Vic’s face in mine. I shoved him out of the way. “What is this? What has this been but just fucked up trickery from the beginning? I know nothing about you. Nothing.”
Vic stood on his knees. In the darkness I could see the outline of him. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to revile him. The grooves that made his perfect, chiseled body should have disgusted me. The inky black hair that mated with the shadows should have made me squirm.
All I felt was longing.
Vic reached for me and pulled me up by my shoulders. “You know everything. You have my soul inside you.”
“Tell me everything, then,” I demanded. “Tell me what you do. Tell me who you work for. Tell me everything!”
Vic dropped his hold on me. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
He looked away. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple.” Vic still wouldn’t look at me. Why was it then that I wanted his eyes so much? I resented his stare, I loathed the control he had over me. Yet he hid his gaze from me and at the very moment I needed it most. I needed to know what he was thinking. “Explain everything. Explain how you fixed Dean. Explain Zoe. Explain it, dammit!”
“I fucking can’t, Lennox!”
I jumped off the bed, refusing to hear anymore. I was done with secrets. I was done with lies. I wanted something real. My bare feet padded against the cool hardwood floor as I ran down the stairs. Only hours ago his wife, his fucking handler—his fucking whatever—had been here.
I still didn’t fully understand that and he refused to explain. I’d put up with a lot but I shouldn’t have to put up with this.
“Lennox wait!” Vic’s voice rang out above me.
“I’m not staying another minute here!” I ran toward the door but Vic was on me before I could reach it. He pulled me in to the kitchen. Hot tears threatened to escape but I held them back. No more tears.
Vic grabbed me and held me to him. “What does it say about me that I stay with you?” I yelled against his chest
Tears brimmed on his lids for the first time ever since knowing him. He thrust his palm against my chest. “It says you know me. That’s all you need to know.”
Four hours later the sun had come up but the shadows still remained. I felt sluggish. Like I’d spent the night drinking or been sick. In reality it had been a rather easy day, physically that is. Emotionally this was the worst day of my life. Worse than finding my mother hanging from the ceiling. Worse than when I tried to off myself.
Talking to Vic was like being stuck in a roundabout on the way to the hospital. We know where we need to go. We know that if we don’t get there we’re going to die. But we just keep spinning and spinning and spinning.
We’d moved from the bedroom to the living room. Sun shone brightly through the large glass windows. The marine layer had dissipated and I could see the blue sky clearly and further beyond I saw the ocean. It was a beautiful day. I bet the sand felt warm.
I can’t believe I still haven’t gone to the beach.
“Do you want to order food?”
Vic was sitting on the chair opposite the couch. He looked just as tired and beat as I felt. His hair was pulled back in a messy bun and purple bags formed under his normally flawless eyes. I had a thought then that we were killing each other. That I should leave out the door and never look back before we completely destroy one another.
But I couldn’t. So I pressed.
“What resources did you use?”
Vic frowned, not expecting my question. “What?”
I ran a hand through my hair before continuing. It was greasy. When was the last time I showered?
“I heard Alice say you used company resources to, and I quote, ‘help the girl you were fucking.’”
Vic stretched out, cracking his knuckles in front of his face. “Lenny…”
“Can you not just tell me one thing?” I hated how weak I sounded, pleading with him to tell me. I was so sick of the lies and secrets. We’d been playing house with one another, but our house had been slowly burning the entire time. Now we were standing in the ashes but Vic refused to acknowledge it. He still wanted to play house in the charred remains.
I just couldn’t do it.
“When you came to me for help when Dean was terrorizing you I called for backup. Disposing Dean”—I grimaced at his choice of words—“wasn’t an easy job. Neither was taking him down. For a civilian, the guy was prepared. That’s all I can say, Lenny.”
“What about Bethany?”
“What about her?” Vic parroted.
I chewed the inside of my cheek. Bethany was still a big question in my head. Had she been the reason Dean found me? She never seemed to like me and the Regal nonsense never added up. Vic stared at me nonplussed, waiting for me to give him more information. I glared at his blank expression. I know better now than to assume that just because he acts like he doesn’t know anything means he knows nothing.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” I snarled. “Did Bethany tell Dean where I was?”
Vic looked truly, genuinely shocked. Or maybe he was just pretending to be shocked. I looked away, refusing to let him influence my thoughts and emotions.
“Dean always knew where you were,” Vic said. “He’d been following you from the minute you purchased your bus ticket. We found copies of your pay stubs and pictures of you with Zoe and Lissie among his personal things.”
Vic’s words cut me deeper than expected. I thought these past months had given me an impenetrable, thick shell but with just that revelation I was floored.
I would have preferred Bethany betrayed me. It would have provided some kind of purpose to the past few months. The knowledge that Dean always knew where I was and that all the terror and constant hiding had been for naught made me feel so… severed.
“I left my job for nothing,” I mused, looking at my hands. They seemed pruned even though I hadn’t been in any water. I lifted my gaze to see Vic eyeing me with curiosity. I explained, “Dean told me Bethany was his sister.” I returned my gaze to my palms. I can’t believe I fell for Dean’s crazy. At the time it had seemed so plausible.
Is that what’s happening with Vic?
Years from now would I look back on this and wonder what I was thinking?
If I even made it years from now. This conversation might kill me.
“If it makes you feel better Simply Santa Barbara is only a few months away from bankruptcy,” Vic murmured. His voice was an amalgam of soothing and defeated. I opened my mouth to ask Vic how he could know such a thing, but stopped before my lips parted. Vic wouldn’t tell me, anyway.
Simply Santa going bankrupt would certainly explain Bethany’s bizarre behavior. It made more sense than her conspiring with Dean.
I’d been so quick to believe Dean. So quick to drown myself in his delusions.
I looked back to the spotless, Carolina blue sky. “Let’s get pizza.”
It was almost eleven at night. All the pizza had been eaten. And none of my questions had been answered. Not really.
I felt like I’d cried a lot, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t really cried at all. After the pizza came we sat in a pregnant silence, neither one of us willing to burst the bubble first. It might look odd to walk in on us, two people sitting in complete silence, not moving much, for hours, only the moon as our light. But you know why, and because you know why, it isn’t odd at all.
I watched the sun set from my place on the couch, not really thinking much about it. I couldn’t think anymore. Thinking led to emotions and emotions led to pain. I couldn’t handle anymore pain, so I made myself numb.
Vic broke the silence first. His voice sounding haunted and tired. “Promise me you’ll stay, Lenny.”
I craned my head slightly to look at him. His hair was out of the bun and sticking to his face. There was no pretense to his expression. For the first time in our relationship I thought I might actually be looking at Vic, the real Vic. Not the one engulfed by secrets.
I looked away.
“For how long?” I replied, voice deadened with too much emotion.
“What do you mean?”
I laughed bitterly. “How long until you leave?” Vic was supposed to be gone a week ago. He was on borrowed time.
Pain crossed Vic’s features at my words. Causing Vic pain hurt worse than if I’d cut myself with a letter opener. I felt his pain more clearly than I felt my own. Seeing him hurt from my words was torment, but I couldn’t pretend anymore.
He was leaving.
Vic stood up from the chair he’d called home for the past day and sat himself between my legs. He reached for my hands and grasped the palms tightly. I watched everything like a bystander, still unwilling to feel any emotion.
“Never. I’ll never leave you, Lennox.” Looking in to his black eyes I could see the stark sincerity. He believed he would never leave me.
I let myself be pulled in to his embrace. I let him hold me as he stroked my hair. I let myself be comforted by him. It felt more than good to be back in his arms.
It felt right.
We walked up the stairs and away from the living room, away from our troubles.
I guess we were back to secrets and lies.
Turns out starting a business isn’t that difficult. All I had to do was pay seventy dollars and fill out a few forms online.
Running a business, however, is a lot harder than starting one. I stared at the LLC papers in my hands with simultaneous awe and terror. I needed an accountant, and I needed employees, and I needed a lawyer to help me with all of this. I had the LLC, though. I was officially a small business owner.
I was what all the fuss was about. I was what they talked about on the news. I was what was dividing the nation.
Go, me.
Lissie and Zoe were meeting me in an hour to talk. They had no idea what I was going to ask them. It was a pretty huge thing: “Hey, wanna ditch your salaried and secure jobs and join my shaky startup business?” I needed to work on my pitch.
I sat down in a small restaurant and ordered a Screwdriver. It was only ten-thirty in the morning, but I told myself I was celebrating. In reality, I had butterflies the size of beetles in my stomach. As I waited for my drink, I looked around.
The restaurant was seaside. It was a little touristy, but that didn’t mean the food wasn’t exceptional. It was an Armenian bistro known for its delicious breakfast lamb specials, but it also served waffles and pancakes. You’ve got to serve waffles and pancakes or stuffy tourists won’t come to your place.
The smell of sea salt filled my nostrils. Even though it was still morning, there was no marine layer. The sun shone bright and yellow on the beach. I was at an outside table underneath a big, kitschy umbrella. Rays of sunlight slipped past the umbrella’s guard, hitting my ankles and wrists, instantly warming me. It was peaceful. Unlike home.
“You’re leaving?”
“Come with me. Come with me, Lenny, I can show you the world.”
“You’re leaving.”
“I don’t have a choice!”
“You said you’d never leave.”
As the server brought my drink, I pushed away the memories. Vic was leaving in only a few days. Our relationship was crumbling and I was doing everything I could to not crumble along with it.
Zoe and Lissie walked up. We exchanged hugs and pleasantries, we mused about how much we liked the restaurant, and then we got down to ordering our meals. Through the whole thing, I didn’t once bring up why I’d asked them to brunch. As far as they knew, we were just hanging out. It wasn’t until the server was clearing our plates and Lissie was contemplating the dessert menu that I cleared my throat. I was ready to get to the point.
They listened to me pitch my business, rapt with attention though their faces betrayed nothing. We had long since paid our bill and tipped our waiter, but I was still talking.
“Look,” I continued. “The only reason I was able to throw such an amazing party for Regal was because I had help from you guys. I would really love it if you guys came on and did this with me,” I finished. I felt like I’d just put myself on display to a bunch of perverts. I know these were my best friends, not perverts, but that’s how vulnerable I felt.
“I’m not salaried,” Zoe said, taking a sip from her nearly empty Mimosa. “I freelance and am contracted to a few places. But basically, I’m self-employed,”
I nodded, not really understanding but loving the fact that she knew terms like “freelance” and “contracted.” It sounded so business-like. Also, it sounded like she was open to working with me.
Lissie shrugged. “I get a lot of money from my parents each month, so, technically, I don’t even need to work.” She smiled, reaching for the crumbs of our onion rings.
They hadn’t said no, but neither had they said yes.
“So...” I said, hoping that they would finish my sentence.
“I can’t speak for Zoe girl over here,” Lissie said, “But I’m in! The only stipulation my parents have for giving me money is that I have a job. What’s better than working with you?”
I wanted to squeal with excitement.
“I’m not going to quit my other jobs,” Zoe said. “But, I don’t see why I can’t work with you as well.”
This time I did squeal. I was so excited. I clapped my hands together like a two-year-old.
I ordered another round of fruity alcoholic drinks so we had a reason stay. We spent the rest of our time talking about who was going to do what, who got what percentage of the company, and all of those boring (but so damn exciting!) details.
“Are you drunk?”
“Yesh,” I slurred.
“Jesus, Lenny, it’s only one in the afternoon.”
“I’m celebrating.”
“What are you celebrating?”
“The fact that it’s one in the afternoon!”
Vic shook his head, annoyed.
“Don’t worry, Emily Post,” I said, leaning against the wall for support. “I’m perfectly capable of throwing up into the toilet.”
That was a bit of a low blow. He had taken complete care of me the last time I had gotten wasted, yet here I was acting ungrateful. To be honest, though, our relationship was so up in the air it was in another stratosphere.
We never resolved the wife thing, or the temporary living arrangements thing, or the I-work-for-a-company thing. We knew eventually this relationship was going to end. Vic was going to leave and I was going to stay. So, we just floated along in this ephemeral love acting like everything was okay when we both knew it wasn’t. It seriously sucked.
That’s not why I got drunk. I got drunk because for the first time in years I felt happy. Yes, finally Lennox Moore was happy. I’d started a business and my two (and only) fri
ends were going to be my partners. I wanted to relish in that. Have you ever been drunk because you were happy? I haven’t. Before today, I’ve only gotten drunk because I was sad. Being happy-drunk is fucking awesome. It’s like being a dog with your head out the window. It was superlative. It was sublime. Until I got home and saw Vic, that is.
I went to a pro baseball game once and I caught the ball. I thought it was awesome until everyone said I ruined the game. Apparently I caused the other team to win.
Fuck sports.
Where was I?
Oh yeah. Vic.
How do you enjoy something when you know it has an expiration date? We’ll watch TV together and I’m not sure if it’s the last time. It’s exhausting treating everything as if it was the last time. The last kiss. The last fuck. The last shared salad. At first it was romantic. Now, it’s just tiring.
“Lenny?” Vic asked, bringing me out of my reflection.
“I took a cab!” I said, although he didn’t ask.
“Do you even have a car?”
“No.” I giggled.
Vic rubbed his forehead. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Lennox.”
“You don’t have to Vic. You’re going away soon. You’re leaving on a jet plane to someplace with—” I paused, unsure of how to finish my sentence. “Um, other jet planes!” Yeah. That’ll show him.
Vic folded his arms. “Is that what this is about?”
“I’ll never leave you, Lennox. Never,” I said, mimicking what he’d told me only two weeks ago. His eyes contorted in pain.
“You can come with me!”
I slid down the wall and onto the floor, the alcohol making me light-headed. Or maybe it was all the circular arguing we’d been doing. Either way, Vic was going to start thinking I was an alcoholic. Shit, I was starting to think I was an alcoholic.