These treacherous tears are telltale signs of how much I adore this evil man.
"Please, I care so much about you, Lux." His sapphire eyes tug at my heartstrings.
"Fuck you! Fuck that, Victor." I step closer to my Dad's bed, needing wisdom and courage. "You're a murderer! Get the hell on, you and your psychotic ass friends. Yeah, I'm guessing you can afford to have these muthafuckers here keeping me safe. All because of shame and guilt for lying to me."
He shakes his head, "Luxury, if only you understood."
"I understand this, and I hope you do too, because I know you and all your selfishness rarely, if ever listen." My neck rolls around with each word, I exclaim, "I do not want to set eyes on you ever again."
"If that is your wish," he starts to grab something from the inside of the Burberry suit jacket.
"Yes, that's as I wish." I glare at a phone in his hand. "I wish we never met." There's a tension in Victor's jaw that tells me that words have gotten to him. Well, fuck that!
"Take it. You don't have to see me anymore, but when you are willing, I would like to talk to you," Victor says in that ever calming tone of his. "Keep this phone, you can call me, I will answer anytime of the day."
"No," I shake my head.
"At least, allow me to explain fully. It's too much now, all at once," Victor looks over at my father then me. "Allow me to tell you who murdered your mother when you're ready."
"My mother!" I shout, wanting to wrap my hands around this man's neck and choke him. I want to murder this nutcase!
"Don't fucking go there, Victor. I actually," pausing, I try to compose myself but can't. Feelings of anger, strife, and rage take hold of me. "I let you in," I touch my chest, sniffling back even more tears, "I told you things about me that I would never tell anybody else. My mother and me; I fucking let you into all of that. You bring her up now! You manipulative son of a bitch!"
Fear clings as Victor takes my shoulders. I don't want him to ever touch me again. The very feel of his hands are repulsive and reminds me of death! Victor looks me in the eyes. His voice is hard. He implores, "Luxury, listen to me. I promise to tell you all about your mother's death and your father's botched assassin."
"Promises are no good," are my last words to Victor. He places the phone on the rolling tray near the door and is out of my life.
My brain hopes for good.
My heart …
The rain begins to softly strum against the windows.
Victor
Soon as I make it back to the private airport, I get out of my Mercedes with a tense grumble. My Learjet is on the glider and ready to go. Burt is just at the bottom of the steps waiting, with a face that is unreadable.
"Fuck!" I shout. My hands go to the roof of the car, and I begin to kick it in. Denting and pounding and kicking it, all the while thinking about Luxury, Doctor Whitson and that motherfucker Doctor Charles Everhart.
Lux hates me.
Jonah Whitson will survive, but it's my fault that Luxury had to shed another tear.
Doctor Everhart, he's as easy to catch as air.
My balled fist goes into the driver window and glass crashes down into the chair and onto my shoes. I continue to cuss in a manner unfit for royalty, but I've skirted the line for years. I am my father's son. So who gives a fuck?
I snatch off my jacket and toss it on the ground, then laugh at myself for having a grown man tantrum. With my right hand dripping in blood, I start toward the jet.
"Let's go, Vic," Burt says in the very tone that he used to employ right before taking me to bandage up yet another wound while playing rugby or because of my father.
Inside of the jet are sleek cherry wood walls and four rows of thick buttery leather black recliner chair. I won't be getting any sleep. I'll be contemplating how to find Everhart.
"Paul – "
"He's still searching, Victor," Burt cuts me off, knowing the way my mind works. "Paul put the search on hold, when you were questioned by the police, Victor. He pulled a hell of a lot of stings just to enter ‘Special Agent Gary' into the bureau database. You are human; you are a royal not an immortal. Moreover, what would Her Majesty the Queen think?" Burt begins while going for the wet bar. He reaches in one of the cupboards to grab the first aid kit and a bottle of alcohol.
Grandmother or not, The Queen would be angry with me.
Burt cocks his head toward the seats. "Take this break, just a few days. Then we will have Everhart's information – I'm sure of it, and we can murder him."
"We?" Again I ask my most trusted companion while sinking down into one of the plush chairs.
"Oh, you know what I mean," Burt pours shots of Bourbon and taking out peroxide and bandages from the first aid kit. "Now we know Luxury will be safe. Paul hand selected three exceptional candidates. They will watch her round the clock."
"Yeah, she better be safe."
"Or you plan to murder the three Ex-Navy Seals?" Burt chuckles as I pour peroxide on the back of my right hand. "Victor, I've heard so many good things about them."
"Yeah, but you're like my father, you're supposed to believe in me," we both laugh at that.
Burt's laughter ends on a sigh, he's been wound up for a while. I glare as the peroxide begins to bubble up on my bloodied knuckles. He quickly wraps it with gauze.
"So," he begins, "May I ask a question?"
"What kind of question is ‘may I ask a question'? I've told you before that is the question."
For a second, our bodies are pushed back in the seat as the jet begins to glide.
Burt has this questioning look in his eyes. Then he proceeds to ask the questions that warrant no answers. "It's impossible for you to insert yourself in Luxury's world. But if you place her in yours, how will she survive?"
I look at my tightly bound hand. There are so many dominating characters in Arlington. They would strive to eat Lux alive. No matters the fact that I will murder each and every one of these wolves for allowing one tear to drop from Luxury's eyes. Right now, she doesn't want to know me, anyway. So I've made a vow. If she doesn't seek or call me, then I will keep her request. I will not seek her. I will not call her.
My phone begins to ring. It's the private phone for X-Members only. So I don't have to answer Burt at the moment anyway.
"Hello Victor," the automated voice begins. "The funds have just cleared our account. Those 72-hour holds can be a doozy. Maybe in the future, when the tension has died down, you can come back to the team."
"Fuck off." I hang up at that.
X-Member is finally out of the way. Ironically, the program that brought me to my favorite past time, as well as bringing me to the young lady that I have such hard feelings for. Maybe it was selfish of me to withhold Everhart's identity from Detective Caruso, but I want to make good on that promise, when Lux is ready.
I'll abide by Luxury's wishes and never seek her again. Lux has my number if she wants. By that time, I'll have dealt with Everhart. Then the truth will mend her broken spirit.
For now, I'll await Lux's call.
Luxury
Despite my strengthened and renewed hatred of the rain, the sound puts me to sleep last night. There are three thin, rough knit blankets over my body as I am curled into a ball on the seat next to my dad's hospital bed. The surgeon said he would be sleeping for a while longer to allow the anesthesia to fully absorb in his body. The surgeon recommended lots of rest was important for Dad.
I smile over at him, glad that Dad will pull through. I kind of get why he hated on my relationship with Victor in the first place. Hell, to be honest, Dad's intuition was right. Besides being jealous that he was losing our evening hang out sessions, Dad must have felt Victor's dishonesty.
I look at his bandaged waistline. As Dad sleeps, I wonder what I would do without him. No matter how much I ignore him on occasion, I love my daddy so much.
"Ma'am, good morning." The Korean nurse smiles at me, as she begins to check his vital signs. "Oh, Miss Whitson, we can't have the phone near all this equipment."
"Phone?" I yawn.
"Yes," she picks up the cell phone that Victor had left me.
"Is this yours or should I take it to lost and found?" Her eyebrows crinkle.
"Yeah, it's … it belongs to me," I decide to grab the phone, pressing the power down button, I then put it in my purse on the chair next to me.
I won't be calling Victor. Not ever. But if he calls me, then I might answer.
For a while, my mind is consumed by Victor D'Ross. He's an assassin who makes buku money by offing people. So cold. So callous. How could I love someone who takes lives? Who plays God?
I wash my face and brush my teeth in the public bathroom, and then head back to Jonah's room. He's still sleeping, so I grab one of the books that Victor had sent up to me after he left. My choices are a Sandra Brown mystery and a Harlequin Romance. I decide to turn the television on, volume low, and pray the idiot box burns a few of my brain cells so I don't have to think.