Page 23

CHAPTER 23

Mei: My Nai Nai once told me that only 3 things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you. I experienced the first two with you. I’m not ready for the last. I don’t know how to do that part. I’ll never want to.

I lie on my bed and stare at my unsent text until my eyes well, then delete it. I’ve typed and deleted hundreds of texts this week, but I can’t send any, ever again. Funny how “ever again” feels so long and so short at the same time. I’ve worked more in the past seven days than I have the last month and done homework in the time between to catch up before “ever again” starts today.

When I told Baba I didn’t want to go to L.A., he said there are worse things that could happen to me. He said I’m going with Nick because he’s done so much for our family, and “we” can help him with this new venture. It’s the least we could do. “We”, but not really we since it’s my future that depends on Nick, not Baba’s. Also, I’m going to L.A. because he said so.

As an added restriction and command, I’m not walking with my class during graduation next Wednesday because “we don’t need to showcase ourselves.”

So, in three hours, a car will pick me up. It will take me to the airport. When we land in L.A., I’ll be escorted to Nick’s penthouse suite in some hotel. Then, I’ll wait for whatever happens next. Today, “ever again” can’t last long enough.

All I can do is wish I wasn’t going. That I wasn’t part of this family. That I was with Marcus instead of moving farther from him. Or with Lin instead of hiding from her worried texts. I don’t know what I would even say, though. I’ve written Marcus notes I’ll never deliver, typed texts I’ll never send. Told Harvey I can’t go to Prom with him tonight. Avoided Guo Mama. Buried my face in my pillows to muffle the sounds my heart makes as it sinks in my tears. Stopped hoping. Marcus’s texts stopped coming two days ago and my heart stopped beating and drowned.

But according to Baba, I’m so lucky. If this is luck, then Marcus did me a favor by taking Buddha even though he’s no longer on his windowsill. He must have figured out Buddha brought him bad luck, too.

I lift my head off my bed and reach for Magic 8. I’ve asked it over and over if there’s a way out of this. It hasn’t given me a straight answer. But when I ask if Marcus is thinking about me, it says “Yes” every time, including this one.

I toss it to the end of my bed and grab my phone. My chest tightens and my body leans into hope but there’s nothing from Marcus.

I roll to my back, scrolling through pictures for the 500th time. Us in front of Hippie Thai, me rolling my eyes and Marcus jutting out his chin. Marcus laughing and reaching for my phone as I snapped shot after shot of him. Marcus laying on his bed in a white tank top and loose-fitting sweatpants, one hand behind his head, blue eyes looking straight into the camera. A video he sent me of him shaving. The secret code he drew on his arm that translated to Marli, our couple name. A selfie with the chemistry equation he created to prove his chemical reaction to me. Selfie after selfie he took with weird things he saw on his walks home, funny captions for each one. Marcus lying on his back with a licorice rope jutting from his mouth while he winked at me. A shot of his wall chalkboard and the pie chart he drew about me. Him, wearing his lucky soccer socks, my name drawn in Chinese characters on the bottom. A shirtless selfie, a red Sharpie heart drawn on his chest with my name inside it. Another screen shot of a video chat when he showed me his new Adidas. An overhead shot of us lying beside each other under his window, Marcus kissing my temple while I smiled at the camera.

I shut off my phone on picture 134 of 368 and my heart retreats into its dark corner, but the phone lights up with a text from Lin: Coming your way babe. You can’t avoid me forever.

I set it face down onto the nightstand, mad at myself for indulging in Marcus and making my chest tighter, my body achier. I drop my head back onto the bed until the door flings open and Lin’s energy rushes in, pressing me further into my bed.

“Okay. What’s wrong?” She drops onto my bed, snuggling me from behind and laying her head on mine. “You’ve been too quiet. Spill.”

Her concern is permission for my tears and my silent sobs shake the bed while she rubs my back until words scratch up my throat. “Marcus and I broke up.” I haven’t said his name out loud for so long, it’s grown too big inside my head and hurts coming out when I tell her everything about the fight and Marcus’s grandmother and Nick and the threats. I can’t stop the words once the verbal flood starts. “And now, I have to go to L.A. with Nick. Tonight, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I tried.”

She bolts up, looking like she’s trying to chew and swallow metal. “Are you serious? No. No way.” She shakes her head as she slides off the bed and paces the room. “You can’t go. I won’t let you.”

I watch her, my cheek smashed against my wet pillow. “He found out about Marcus. He’ll retaliate—hurt him. Shut down the restaurant, get us kicked out.”

“Tell Marcus. His dad—”

“Can never know,” I break in, lifting my head. “You know why.”

She drops to her knees in front of me, squeezing my hand. “You know I love you. But part of being your best friend is telling you when you’re being stupid. And you are. In two major ways.” She holds up her finger. “Number first: he’s about six foot two, I think, but you’ve been all over those measurements, so you tell me. His legs are objects of greatness, his face was sculpted by the gods, and his body is—”

“Stop, Lin.” I close my eyes, then snap them open when a too-clear picture of a shirtless Marcus rises in my head.

“That’s what you had, and you can still have it. Unless you go to L.A. You had your first fight, not a breakup. One word from you and he’ll be here, not me. And while I love hanging out with you, I won’t make out with you. You’re beautiful and everything, just not my type.”

“In this easy solution, does Nick magically disappear?” I sit up and slump against my headboard, my body heavy. “If I don’t do what he asks, people get hurt.”

“What do you think is going to happen to you if you go with him? You’ll get hurt, and not in the emotional, heartbreak kind of way. Don’t even try to deny it. You know I’m right. And I’m so done talking about him. It’s like pouring slime into my ears.”

“Let him finish me off.”

She rolls her eyes and pretends to vomit on my carpet. “You’re being super dramatic. Ever thought there might be other options? Like running away? ”

“And go where?”

Lin throws out her hands. “Anywhere. Somewhere Nick’s not.” She taps her chin and looks at the ceiling. “You can leave—start a new life. Avoid getting raped. Or worse.” She grabs my hands. “You’ll be safe. I mean, you won’t get the boy, but you won’t be with Nick. And I’ll know where you are. We can talk every day. And when the coast is clear, and the dust is settled, I’ll tell The Boy where you are, and he’ll come for you.”

The thought sinks in and spreads through me, taking root. This could work. I won’t have to be with Nick. Not here, not in L.A. Except. I have about $350, a fake passport, and no driver’s license.

I look at her hand, then her, and we sit in the idea until Baba’s voice calls for me. We look at each other before I hesitantly push myself off the bed and step to the door, opening it just a crack. “Yes?”

“Hurry up, Mei Li—Chaz is here to take you to the airport.”

I grip the doorknob as reality pours through the crack like liquid steel, hardening my insides. I turn to Lin. “What time is it?”

She checks her phone. “Almost four…”

Nick said six.

Baba’s voice booms up the stairs. “Mei Li! Now!”

I close my eyes, mentally say goodbye to Marcus, then grab my duffle. Avoiding Lin’s eyes, I open the bag and nestle Magic 8 inside before zipping it and hauling it onto my shoulder. It’s 500 pounds of fear and regret, just like my feet, my head, my heart.

Lin stands between me and the door. “I’ll go downstairs, create an emergency. We need to figure out a plan.”

Baba’s footsteps pound up the stairs and I jerk into motion, grabbing Lin’s hand. “Walk me out. I’ll text you on the way to the airport.”

I stiffen in my seat as the plane dips into a right turn and descends toward L.A. I don’t want any part of me to touch Chaz on my left or Xander on my right during this flight that can’t possibly last long enough. The last time I was on a plane was from Taiwan to America. I hadn’t known what was ahead of me then and wish I didn’t now. This plane couldn’t crash hard enough to satisfy me. Couldn’t find a hole black enough to slip through and disappear.

When the fasten seatbelt sign went off earlier, I’d locked myself in the bathroom, connected to wi-fi, and texted Lin. We’d hurried through possible escape plans until Chaz had knocked and called my name. I’d stashed my phone in my bra and zipped my jacket. It’s stayed zipped, heavy with unread texts full of ideas that could get me out of here.

I wish Mama had stopped this, but I guess whatever had been so important that night in Guo Mama’s backroom wasn’t important enough to actually do anything about it.

There’s a car waiting for us when we land, and I expect it to take us to the hotel, but it pulls in front of a warehouse surrounded by a chain-link fence. My heart pounds in protest until Chaz talks to me over his shoulder from the passenger seat.

“Nick has something for you to wear to the gala. He’s being generous, so take advantage of this rare moment.”

“There are benefits to playing nice,” Xander adds, and I throw open my door and get out of the car, slamming it to trap Xander’s words inside. No amount of money or fancy clothes could make being with Nick worth it.

Xander and Chaz jump out of the car and walk on either side of me toward a warehouse door. I wait for them to slip a collar over my head and attach a leash. Nick must have told them I’m a flight risk. He’s not wrong. But it’s not just a risk— I’m going to disappear as soon as I have a private moment to call Lin.

An elderly woman bows and tells Chaz and Xander in Mandarin that they can wait on the sofa before leading me through a towering maze of boxes and garment bags. Her enthusiasm bounces off the metal walls as she slides open a large door and scurries into a room made almost completely of mirrors. There are dozens of me, each a small, expressionless puppet on invisible strings.

“Mr. Nick picked a dress just for you. He says it would fit your curves perfectly.” Without looking at me, she ushers me into a drafty, flimsy dressing room, then looks at me expectantly, motioning for me to undress.

I wait for her to leave so I can text Lin, but she motions again, so I turn my back and slip my phone out of my bra, zip it into my jacket pocket, and stiffen when she helps me out of my shirt. She unzips a garment bag hanging from the door and pulls out a black gown, motioning me closer. She helps me into it before leading me to a platform in front of the mirrors.

My eyes roam the black satin hugging my hips, gathering in the back before flowing to the floor. The V-neck dips to the middle of my sternum and the open back drops to just above my backside.

“You like it?” the ancient seamstress asks as she pulls the dress tighter, pinning it.

All I want is for the woman to leave the room so I can text Lin and continue our conversation about escape plans, but she’s staring at me, waiting, and I swallow and shake my head. No. It’s my funeral gown.

She stops and her eyes widen. “No?”

This dress shows more of me than I ever want Nick to see. It won’t stop him from getting too close. I need a suit of armor. So no, I don’t like it. The one thing I like—love—and that fit me perfectly is off limits thanks to “Mr. Nick. ”

“Mr. Nick came in and made sure all is taken care of. I do as he says.”

She’s frantic and there’s a familiar fear in her eyes so I place my hand on her delicate shoulder and force a smile, responding to her in Mandarin. “Mr. Nick will be very happy.” But Mei Li will never be.

“Good, good. I will have it delivered to his hotel room by 9 AM tomorrow.” The old lady grins and nods, pinning the dress so tightly my breasts practically burst out, and when she shuffles out of the room, I stare into the mirror. This costume tells me everything I need to know about what this life will be.

The seamstress hurries back in and finishes pinning the dress, and I peel it off like I wish I could peel off this moment and all the moments waiting to pounce on me. She waits while I throw on my clothes, then walks me to the front. I need to find a bathroom and hopefully the lady won’t follow me inside.

“All done?” a girl asks as she comes out of an office. She flips through a notebook, then looks up at me. “Mr. Chao’s fiancé, yes?”

My eyes widen and I shake my head. “No—not his fiancé.”

“Mei Li Zhang, yes?” She smiles through tight lips and when I nod, she says, “Come with me,” then motions for me to follow her into the office. “Mr. Chao requested you choose something in here.” She opens a door behind a curtain and when I step through it, the room shimmers. Jade pendants, cuffs, and earrings wink at me from shelves and hooks. Diamonds catch the light and throw it across the floor as I follow the girl to a glass case filled with jewels.

The girl smiles and raises her eyebrows. “Choose whatever you’d like, and we’ll put it on Mr. Chao’s account, per his instruction.”

Account? In a warehouse full of dresses and jewelry? How many fiancés does he have? But my pulse quickens when a thought shimmers off the diamonds and settles deep inside my mind. A future-changing thought that echoes Lin’s words from earlier.

Diamonds could be the “how” part of my escape plan.

Show me more,” I say to the girl, walking into the room.

Chaz pulls a keycard from his pocket and swipes it over the door which beeps then clicks. He pushes it open to let me in, but my legs lock, so he grabs my elbow and pulls me inside.

I step into the foyer, scan the sunken living area. The lights of L.A. blink beyond the floor to ceiling windows, a sectional sofa facing them like a throne for royalty to look over their kingdom of small, insignificant lives below. Chaz motions over his shoulder and I follow him toward an open door across the living area.

“This is your room,” he says. “Be ready to leave for Chef Torres’s restaurant in thirty. Nick will meet us there.”

I close the door and lock it, then toss my bag on the bed and pull the velvet box from the gift bag nestled among my clothes. I swallow and peer inside at the diamond choker with matching bracelet and earrings that have to be worth more than a car. Definitely more than a plane ticket to wherever I decide to go. According to the sales lady, they were the most expensive items in the room. I don’t think this is what Nick had in mind when he said to pick whatever I wanted, but this is my ticket out of here. My courage to survive this moment until the moment I need arises. This will pay for my new life.

I pull my phone from my jacket and send a picture of the jewelry to Lin: I have an idea. I set the box in the nightstand drawer and double check the bedroom door is locked, but Chaz’s voice drifts from the other side of it and I lean closer .

“What’s the ETA?”

“10:30,” Xander answers and I hold my breath and lean closer to the door.

“Anything else I should know?”

“Nick wants them here thirty minutes after they land.”

“That’s not enough time,” Chaz growls. “The ride from the airport takes that long.”

“Wish I could give you more time, but—”

“No…you’ve done more than enough, Xan…”

I frown at Chaz’s soft tone. Xan?

“What about Nick?” Chaz asks and Xander laughs once.

“You think he’ll get his hands dirty? He’ll make sure their dinner goes long so the job’s done when they get back.”

Chaz swears. “Yeah, okay. We’ll make sure it gets done. It just might not be in the way Mr. Chao prefers.”

“Don’t take any chances, C.” Fear and longing weigh down Xander’s voice and I press my lips together and think about the women usually draped around Chaz. Maybe they’re his suit of armor…?

“I’ll be careful. I’m just tired of this. Nick crossed a line with Su Ling.”

I straighten.

“She has kids. Nick played too close to home this time. He’s being reckless and we’re all gonna pay.”

“I agree, but we can’t turn him in. He’ll retaliate.”

“If we can’t turn him in, maybe it’s time to turn myself in. I can hand over what’s left of the fentanyl, give the cops any info they need. I’d get ten years max, but it would get me out of this.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What?” Chaz’s voice gets rough. “No, Xan. Don’t leave me in this.”

Everything on the other side of the door goes quiet, and I put my hand over my mouth, knowing I’ve heard way too much. But maybe it’s exactly what I needed to hear.