We kissed again like we used to before we did the deed. Except this time, when we crawled all over each other, he pushed into me gently. Then he held me tight against him and slowly pumped into me until I crumpled in his arms, the orgasm he had promised washing over me.
“Thank you,” he signed with one hand after I was done.
“No, thank you,” I signed back, making my voice and my “you” sign super emphatic.
We fell asleep again. Grateful and in love with the dream of an even better tomorrow.
21
A few hours later, it all fell apart.
“Wake up! Wake the fuck up!”
I woke up to bright lights in my eyes. Not the morning sun, I realized, blinking against them. Flashlights.
There were dozens of flashlights pointed at me. At us. Victor was sitting up in bed, too, his arm a bar across my naked chest, as if he was trying to protect me. But from what?
My eyes adjusted after a few moments. Then I immediately wish they hadn't.
Men. Men in dark SWAT uniforms surrounded us.
One of them was yelling at Victor in rapid Japanese. I only understood it because my mom's favorite show, CSI, was fully dubbed over here. He was saying we were under arrest.
“What's going on?” I asked Victor, instinctively reaching for him.
But he didn’t have access to his hands, and the uniforms pulled him away before I could touch him. They smashed him to the ground beside the bed, snapped handcuffs over his wrists, and then yanked him to his feet.
“Victor!” I screamed as they dragged him away from me.
“It's okay. You can stop acting now, Dawn,” one of the figures said in English, his voice loud and authoritative. “We got what we needed.”
“Dad?” I recognized the voice. It was my father. But what was he talking about?
“Yeah, it’s me, Dawn. Thank you for your service. I know that must've been scary, having to spend the whole night with him. But we’re here now. And thanks to you, we got everything we need to arrest Raymond Zhang and the other Red Diamond gang members. Victor Zhang will never bother you again.”
At first, I didn't get it. I was so confused.
But then I did, with a sickening thud.
My father wasn't what I thought he was. He wasn't a criminal. Just the opposite, in fact. He was involved in some kind of international law enforcement effort. And now he was talking to me like I'd been privy to his plan all along.
“Victor…” I whispered, trying to turn around. I needed to go to him. I had to let him know that what my dad had said wasn't true.
But Dad grabbed onto me even tighter when I tried to get out of his hold, hugging me to him like I’d been gone years, not hours. “It's okay, honey. It's okay. Just let it out. I'm so sorry it got so far. I wish I had been here to protect you from that prick.”
“Dad, no!” I cried. I struggled against him with all my might. But in the end, it didn’t matter. By the time I broke free, Victor was gone. Dragged out of his own bedroom by my dad’s Japanese cohorts.
Maybe I could catch up to him. Explain that it wasn’t what it looked like. That I hadn’t known anything about this.
I tried to run after them. But Dad caught me by the arm before I could leave.
“Dawn! Dawn! Listen to me!” he said, his voice low and urgent. “We need your school jacket. Where is it?”
I tried to get away again, but Dad wouldn’t let me go. He held me there and ordered one of the men to throw him a blanket in his near-perfect Japanese.
I didn’t realize I was still naked until he wrapped it around me.
Out loud, he proclaimed to anyone who might be listening that I had been traumatized. But in between all those booming proclamations, he whispered threats to handcuff me if I didn’t play along. He told me I was acting crazy. That I had been brainwashed. Victor’s father was a bad, bad guy. Protecting him would doom hundreds of girls my age to a terrible fate. I had to give him my school jacket for some reason.
In the end, his words broke through. Sobbing and guilt-ridden, I fetched my school blazer from where Victor had shoved it along with my shirt underneath the couch in the front room.
I’d later find out that the blazer had a spy camera implanted in the lapel. That’s what my father had really been doing when he took my jacket “to the cleaners” last September.
Looking back, I’m sure they would have found what they wanted with or without me.
But my dad needed everyone else to see me cooperating. That was the only way to prove his story was real.
