I mean, my ex thought it was a choice, but it had taken me maybe two seconds to be like, "Brad, bye" after he laid it down.
Still, Bill, Brad's dad, had been my first serious surf coach. And I hated that I'd stood him up at the last minute. He deserved better than that, just like my dad deserved better than the diagnosis that had stripped him of so much pride.
But halfway through my apology to Brad, the previously silent iPhone vibrated with a new text message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I don't know why.
I knew immediately knew who was sending me the text messages—the Fae King, obvs. But I didn't understand what it meant. So I picked the iPhone up and answered with a string of question marks.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: You asked me why I did what I did. I don't know.
I hesitated, then answered.
Well thank you. You were right. I should have said that.
A few seconds ticked by without an answer. Then….
UNKNOWN NUMBER: What you gave to Kuang? Was that your life savings?
No.
That was my first prideful answer. But then I had to add...
It's my two years of life savings.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: What were you saving up for?
It's kind of dumb. This far-fetched dream. It was probably stupid of me to think it would have worked out anyway.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Tell me.
I hesitated again, even though his command from earlier still rang in my ears. If I text, you answer it. No matter what. But that didn't mean I had to be truthful or respond with the answer he was demanding—
Another text message popped up.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: If you dreamed of it, I don't think it's stupid. You wanted to know my why. I want to know yours.
Whoa, was the Fae King actually asking about my hopes and dreams. A weird but warm feeling fluttered in my stomach. And before I could think too hard about it, I answered.
A surf school.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: You surf? Well enough to teach it?
Yes.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Are you any good?
I'm a terrible stripper, but I'm an excellent surf teacher.
It took a while for another response to come through. I was almost ready to return to my Brad apology text when a new message from the Fae King finally arrived.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: OK then. We'll say two years.
I frowned at the screen and sent another row of questions.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: You said it took you two years to save up that money. I'll take two years from you. For the next two years you belong to me.
You belong to me. I couldn't say for sure if the emotion that stilled my heart was fear or…something else. But I typed back…
What does belonging to you entail?
Again, it took a long time for him to respond. Even longer than the first time. But I waited, too on the edge of my seat to even think about texting Brad back. I would have waited all night if that was what it took.
Luckily, I only have to wait five minutes.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: What's your name?
I hesitated, not sure if I should just hand my name over to a criminal. But then he was in some kind of business with K Diamond. He could probably get the information if he wanted it.
Jasmine. But everybody calls me Jazz.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: OK, Jasmine, let's start with surfing lessons.
That kaleidoscope of butterflies…they were back. They fluttered in my stomach as I typed….
Yeah sure I can do surfing lessons. That's not a euphemism for something else right? Also what's your name?
I waited for him to answer those questions with a few more primed to go. But this time, no reply came. I didn't even get a "Read" notification under my message.
6
HAN
A few weeks later
There must not have been any other emergencies in Oahu that night. What appeared to be every fire truck and police car on the island responded to the call for the three-alarm fire in Mililani.
Good, Han thought as he watched the two-bedroom house get eaten alive by flames from the apartment building located across the street.
Sirens filled up the air as emergency vehicles arrived, and the middle of the night clang brought every other resident in the apartment building to their street-facing windows. That meant Han was able to slip sight unseen out of the apartment he'd broken into to observe the results of his handiwork from afar.
He felt sorry for the current tenants of the two-bedroom as he left. If the cheerfully boring local news was any indicator, not much happened in Oahu. So when they returned from their jaunt to Kona later in the day, they'd be the only ones in the building who missed seeing the house fire that everyone would be talking about.
Ah, well, life was full of disappointments, wasn't it? Perhaps someone would show them a video of the fire that had killed the former dock worker less than a decade after he decided to retire early. They could commiserate over how suddenly a life can be snuffed out. Though, they might also wonder why the grizzled older man would not only have lighted a scented candle before bedtime. And why he'd also left it unattended, so that it could be tipped over—perhaps by his cat who, unlike its master, somehow managed to escape the flames and was found outside by a neighbor without so much as his fur being singed.
