vnNeSsa1 (21 page)

Chapter 30

It is with a sense of déjà vu that I wake up in totally foreign surroundings with a sandbag head and cat litter mouth. In moments, I recognize the sterile environment as a hospital. This time I know exactly who I am. Amnesia would be a welcomed friend to me right now.

My eyes shift to the man in the chair at the side of my bed. My heart flips over and then falls. He’s watching me. When he sees me look at him, he smiles. The sparkle is there—tentative, hopeful.

“How are you feeling, Bonita?” he asks, eyes worried. He looks tired.

“Groggy,” I say, trying to stretch. It hurts too much, so I stop. Remembering everything hurts too much. My eyes squeeze shut.

“Are you hurting, Bonita?” he asks, voice so kind, face etched with concern. “I’ll tell them to get you something for the pain.”

I shake my head and turn my face to the wall.

“Thank you for saving my life, Victor. You pulled me out of the water, didn’t you?”

“It’s the least I could do after screwing up so much.”

“No. You’re the good guy.” I force myself to look at him.

His expression tells me he doesn’t understand. The longer I stay silent, looking at him, the more confused and worried he seems. Maybe he sees something in my face. The sparkle in him slowly dies. It feels as if a light has been turned off in the room. It’s excruciating.

“Victor, I
—I can’t do this.”
I can’t face you. Can’t bear to see the love turn to hate
.

“No, please don’t say it, Bonita.”

But I have to.

“I can’t see you, can’t be with you.” I’m crying now because his face has crumbled. He’s devastated. I thought I couldn’t hate myself more. I was wrong.

Victor doesn’t say anything at first. His head tilts downward and his eyes close as he struggles to control his emotions. He takes a breath, blows out air and runs his fingers through his hair. I have to look away for a minute. When I look back, he’s looking at me, pale, but composed.

“I understand,” he says, standing. “My not protecting you was unforgivable. I made so many mistakes.” He reaches out his hand
as if he’s going to touch me but lets it drop.

“Please go,” I say, choking out the words. He doesn’t move for a moment,
and then walks slowly to the door. Just before he gets there, he turns around.

“You may change your mind in time. I have to hang on to that.” He looks at me as though memorizing my face and then walks out.

I wipe my eyes and nose with a corner of the hideous gown they’ve put me in. My body and heart feel like they’ve been put in a meat grinder. I don’t care. I want to hurt.

Everything close to me dies or gets destroyed. Victor loves and lost Savannah Anders, I think bitterly. She doesn’t exist. He never knew
Vannessa Van Clief, the kiss of death.

Pain meds get me through that day. I sleep and ask not to be disturbed. The next day, an aide comes in, lets sunshine in the room and gets me to move around. She keeps up nonstop chatter about how lucky I am that the handsome FBI agent pulled me out of the car and got me out of the freezing water so quickly. Surgeons got to my shoulder immediately to extract the bullet, she says. They worked wonders, but I won’t have full use of my arm for six months or longer. Without the airbag, I would have been dead from the impact, she goes on. So, I’m really very lucky to have just a messed-up shoulder and a bunch of bruises. Now, am I ready for visitors?

“Sure. Why not?” I say, my voice sounding dead.

The first person to come bursting through the door is Tink. She’s followed by Scott DeFray, my family’s attorney and my dad’s best friend. After them, to my surprise, comes Lily, Jennifer, and Ian.

Tink throws herself on me. She backs off when she sees me wince. I grab her to me in a fierce, one-sided hug. “Hey, Tink.”

Scott kisses me on the cheek.“I’m so happy you’re alive, honey.”

“Hi, Scott. It’s good to see you, too. Hi, guys. What are you doing here?” I ask the other dancers.

Everyone starts talking at once. Scott’s booming voice calls for a timeout.

“We can’t tire
Vannessa out, so let’s be brief for now,” he says, nodding at the group of three dancers at the foot of my bed.

“Yeah, our reason for being here is short,” Ian says. “We’ve basically sucked as friends, so we’re going to make it up to you.” Everyone starts laughing. What can I do but smile? I’m touched.

“I’m here to help you in any way I can, starting with Tink,” Scott says. “She’s staying with my family as long as she needs to.” My eyes fill with tears.

“You saved my life,” Tink says to me, her face open and sincere. “I want to stay here with you. You are my family.”

“You are
my
family,” I echo, taking them all in. I think of the people who are not here—Victor, my mom, and dad. My heart aches even as it’s filled with love for the people in the room.

My friends stay by my side for as long as the hospital staff and my healing body allow. They steal chairs from other rooms and sneak in food I’m not supposed to eat. The nurses and aides pretend not to notice.

The dancers listen to Tink and me talk about Liam. Tink cries openly. Lily and I take turns holding her. I wait until late at night to cry. I grieve for Victor and my m
om and dad. The tears never seem to stop.

The story about my past and how I ended up in Las Vegas comes out. I edit parts. Tink talks about her past, too. Our stories are so awful, the others don’t know what to say. Ian watches me, his brown eyes full of pity. I hate that.

Other people are interested in what happened, too. Reporters keep trying to interview me. The Internet, newspapers, TV—it’s getting absurd. Even worse, every time we switch on the news, they show Victor’s face. The FBI brought down a large underage trafficking organization. Victor is on camera a lot, being interviewed. He looks so uncomfortable, miserable, even. I switch it off as fast as I can, but just seeing his picture makes my gut wrench.

Scott is battling to become Tink’s guardian. Tink’s mom wants money. I have plenty of that. I’ll have even more when I turn eighteen in a couple of weeks and control of my parents’ estate is turned over to me. I’ll give her whatever she wants. Tink belongs here.

Today is the day I go home. I’m scared. My parents have always been there. My friends will stay for a little while. I’m so grateful for that.

I can hear them coming down the hall. I watch them as an aide helps me into a wheelchair. They are all animated, talking, excited I’m going home. They each take an armload of gifts and letters that people all over the country have sent me. I’m overwhelmed by it all.

“Let me have her,” Ian says, taking over the wheelchair, rolling me down the hall. “Are you ready for this?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Ready for what?” I ask, as he wheels me through the lobby and approaches the front doors. He doesn’t answer, just laughs.

The automatic doors open outward and I’m immediately blinded by dozens of flashbulbs going off in my face. There’s a crowd, noise, confusion. A cheer breaks out when the crowd sees me. Microphones are stuck in my face; questions are thrown at me like darts. I hear, “Vannessa! Vannessa!” repeated until I’m dizzy. My friends form a wall around me and fight their way through the crowd. Somehow, I’m helped into a waiting car. Soon, we’re speeding away, with me twisting in my seat to stare at the scene behind us. It doesn’t seem real.

Welcome home,
Vannessa Van Clief
, I say to myself.
Would they still love you if they knew the whole story?

Chapter 31

My daughter, the media darling. Imagine the irony. They adore her. Poor, beautiful heiress with amnesia. Victimized by the disappearing
billionaire. Not to mention being sold into slavery while she had amnesia. Her public is drooling over the soap opera.

Jesus! It’s hot. I’m sweating my sack off here.

“Waiter! Bring me another cerveza.” Don’t act like you didn’t hear me, you somnolent mule. Really, they expect you to serve yourself in this godforsaken country.

Interesting that she mentioned nothing about being the biological daughter of this mysterious
billionaire. She also hedged about what I was after, as though she were protecting me. She didn’t even say I was financial partners with her dad. Ungrateful child. Oh, and not a word about the tracker. It’s as though Rita didn’t exist. What’s she thinking of doing, using her? Ha! Good luck with that.

“Jesus! God! What the hell is that?” My
Lord, they’ve got lizards bigger than cows down here. Where’s my gun? Oh, you’ll wake up long enough to laugh at me, will you? “Get me a goddamn beer! Please.”

Ah, that’s better. No, you’ll get no thanks from me, you laughing lout. Although I can barely
lift the bottle because of my knife wounds. Vicious girl. Before you know it, she’ll be killing things. Ha, it almost makes me smile.

On the other hand,
I’m sick of seeing her macho FBI boyfriend in the news. You can tell he hates the cameras but they love him. The feds have nothing on me, the fools. Two disappearances, one rafting “accident” with no evidence to link me to any bodies. Liam’s the biggest threat, but I have that under control. The police chief won’t talk. He knows I’ll get to him if he does. So all they have is one “attempted murder” of my daughter. Listen, if I had really intended on murdering her, she’d be dead. I said I could shoot my daughter, not kill her. After all, she has my genes.

The pivotal question is: is she more like me or her mother? You see, I think she knows exactly where the evidence is. I think she lied to me. It’s what I would do.

So, I’m going to be a very busy man planning my next strategy. That is, if I don’t get eaten alive first by God knows what mutant variety of bloodsucking insect that thrives in this hellhole. Ah, well.

See you soon, sweetheart.

Chapter 32

Tink is waiting for me after my last class, sitting on a bench across the hall. I watch her say hi to everybody for a minute, marveling at all the friends she’s made in just one week. People are attracted to her like they’re drawn to a patch of sunlight on a cold day. A lot of people pay attention to me now, too, probably because of all the media drama. When that dies down, I’m sure I’ll revert to my nerd, loner status. It’s strange that what used to matter so much doesn’t mean a thing to me anymore.

“Hey, Tink, how’d you get here so fast?” A look of guilt crosses her face as she gets up from the bench.

“Uh, I was sort of accosted by an FBI agent before my last class,” she says, pulling something out of her bag. “We had coffee and talked and he gave me this to give you.” Her words tumble out and she stuffs an envelope in my hand.

I feel the blood drain from my head. Victor is still in Chicago.

“Savannah, sit down!” The bench slaps the back of my legs.

I smooth the letter in my lap, staring at his neat handwriting on the envelope:
Bonita.

My hands shake almost uncontrollably as I try to undo the latch on my backpack to put the letter away.

“I have to read this tonight after the others have gone to bed. I’ll come undone and I don’t want anyone to see that.”

Tink gives me a long look and nods her head. Then she pulls out her cell phone and starts texting.

“What are you doing?” I say, panicked.

“Telling him when you’re going to read it,” she says, tapping as she talks. “I’m going to text him again tonight after you read it. Then I’ll butt out.” Her face tells me it’s no use to argue.

We don’t talk much on the way home. I’m thinking about the letter. This is also the other dancers’ last night in Chicago and we’re both sad about it. They’re going home for the holidays to be with their families. It’s like they’re taking the Las Vegas part of our life away with them forever.

Tink and I will be staying on in my parents’ house after the others have gone. Scott is being really good about it. He understands we’ve already supported ourselves and lived on our own. Besides, I’ll be eighteen in a week.

As soon as we enter the house, Jennifer and Lily grab Tink and say they’ve got to make a run to the store. The plan is to make a nice dinner and just hang out this evening. They’ve got to catch an early flight in the morning. It does seem like a set-up, though, when Ian corners me in the kitchen. He asks me to get plates out while he makes some dip.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone for days,” he says, hauling stuff out of the refrigerator. He stops suddenly and clasps both of my hands in his. I take a deep breath, waiting.

“I’m going to just come out with it. Would you consider coming back to Las Vegas with us? You and Tink could take the GED for your high school diplomas. You know we’re starting rehearsals with the new producers at the hotel at the first of the year. It would be like a fresh start for you, away from all this…tragedy. All these memories.”

My throat gets scratchy
, as if I’m going to cry. His face has so much caring on it.

“Thank you, Ian, for being here.”

“It’s been for me, too. I had to make up for what I did to you. After what happened on the boat, I felt so bad, I couldn’t even face you. Do you think you can forgive me?”

“It’s forgotten. I’m good at forgetting.” Ian laughs at my feeble joke and the mood is lighter.

“So you’ll consider what I said?” Ian says, giving me the enthusiastic puppy look that I love.

“I’ll talk to Tink.” I’m tempted to go back to Las Vegas. There’s so much here I don’t want to face. But the thought of going back now makes me feel heavy inside.

He whoops and swings me in the air.

The others return shortly. I know for sure our being left alone was planned because the three dancers exchange looks. Jennifer and Lily seem very satisfied.

We sit down to dinner after the chaos of everyone trying to cook. I look around at my friends, appreciating every single one. The table looks beautiful. I jump up at the last minute to find the crowning item to celebrate our last evening together. Grabbing glasses from a cabinet, I find my parents’ favorite wine and begin to pour from the bottle.

“Oh! Vicario Cab
ernet,” Jennifer says, her eyes lighting up. “That’s Vic’s family—funny you would choose that wine.”

“Jennifer!” Lily explodes. “I swear, you have the sensitivity of a rock sometimes.”

My trembling hand almost drops the bottle. Ian smoothly takes it from me and finishes pouring. I had heard Victor’s real name on the news. Daniel Vicario. A beautiful name. But in my heart and head, Victor is always Victor, so I hadn’t made the connection to my parents’ wine.

Jennifer has grown very quiet. She looks down at the table.

“Lily’s right. I am insensitive. And I know I can be horrible sometimes. I want to apologize to you, Van,” she says, using the name my parents called me. It pleases me. “I’ve been a witch to you. When I’m jealous, that’s how I get.” She shrugs and takes a big swig of the wine. I know this is hard for her. “I’m sorry. Your friendship means a lot to me.” She takes a deep breath and gets an evil grin. “But, if you ever throw another glass at me, I’ll rip the hair off your head.” Everyone laughs and I take a big drink of wine, too.

“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 b
ecause 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.