Page 51 of Dangerous Deceit

I go back to the box. “What’s your favorite scent?”

“Vi,” he says, his tone low and stern.

I grab the vial of coconut fragrance oil. “What about this and vanilla?” I ask. “It’ll be like a tropical paradise.”

“Vivian, tell me now.”

My cheeks are warm at my full name, but I keep rambling: “It’ll be good enough to eat. Like a coconut cake.”

I shouldn’t have said anything about Patrick. No matter how sweet or kind or attentive Kenzo is, he’s ajob.He’s not safe. He’s not home.

So why can’t I stop myself from telling him the truth?

“I can get it out of you the hard way, but I prefer if you told me yourself,” he says as he grabs my wrist, then crouches down beside me until we’re looking into each other’s eyes.

I lower my eyes. As much as I enjoy the strangulation and vibrator combination, the idea of doing thatjustto get me to say some words about my past isn’t what I want to do right now. But it’s hard to explain. I can’t throw my family under the bus. Patrick and Uncle Jay may be jerks, but they’re all I have.

A sudden shift changes Kenzo’s face, rage fuming in his eyes. He flips around, racing for the door.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” he says.

My heart beats so fast my chest hurts. Everything is tight. That’s what he meant by “the hard way?”

I race after him, but he’s already at the door.

“Kenzo! Please—” I grab his white suit jacket, yanking him back as hard as I can. “Don’t leave me,” I whisper. “Stay with me.”

He freezes in place. Seconds pass as I hold my breath. His shoulder shifts, and he relaxes. The front door’s lock clicks into place. Relief flows through me, and I push Kenzo towards the boxes of supplies at the dining table. I grab the right materials, then bring them into the kitchen, motioning for Kenzo to join me. Using the scale and the measuring cup, I weigh out what I need for one of the smaller jars.

“He doesn’t have the right to touch you like that,” Kenzo says.

I set the double broiler on the stove. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“And if you won’t tell me what happened, what am I supposed to think?”

He has a point, but I stay focused on the materials in front of me, finding solace in knowing these lumps of wax will eventually melt together and burn brightly. You just have to give them time.

Maybe that’s all I need right now: more time with Kenzo. More time to finish this job and forget I ever felt anything for him.

“Uncle Jay and Patrick didn’t have the best situation at home,” I say carefully. Inside of the double broiler, the wax melts down like little flakes of snow. “Patrick’s mom left Uncle Jay as soon as he was born, and the next woman—this fling my uncle had with a woman from Bakersfield—robbed them of everything they had. She even sent her husband to beat up Uncle Jay.”

And this wasbeforehe started conning. At least, that’s how the story goes. I used to never question it, but the older I get, the harder it is to make sense of the past. But like Uncle Jay always says, it’s best to focus on the future. On our dream house. You can’t change the past, but you can find the next step right in front of you.

I don’t tell Kenzo about the day Uncle Jay found me in the back of a car, how he saved me when my parents had just been killed, how he promised to never leave me. I don’t tell him Uncle Jay promised he would give me my dream house one day. A perfect home. If I only trusted him to take care of me.

Kenzo shifts beside me, his fingers tapping his side. I can tell that this—candle making andlisteningto someone before he makes a move—is uncomfortable for him. He needs to be moving. I understand that. But I also know he hasn’t left my side, and that means something to me. And because of that, I want to tell him the truth.

I continue: “I guess after everything Uncle Jay and Patrick went through, they both agreed that—” I pause. I’ve never sharedany of this before. Bile burns at the back of my throat, and my body is stiff and sore. “They thought it would be best if I was exposed to it, you know? Better to give me a good experience before someone else forced it upon me. They wanted to make sure it was gentle.”

Back then, I could barely feel anything. They made sure I was drunk. Said it would make everything easier for me.

I’ll make sure he’s gentle,Uncle Jay had said.Don’t worry.Patrick is going to take care of you.

My stomach churns, and I let the memory fade.

“It’s just a different way to teach someone what’s out there,” I say. “They were protecting me.”

Kenzo stifles a sigh, like my words are searing his brain, and the truth is they’re hurting me too. I’ve never talked to anyone about this before, and maybe the only reason I’m telling Kenzo is because he’s not some oblivious con job or stranger I’ve run into. He’s a criminal,like me,and his past isn’t sunshine and daisies either. His forehead wrinkles, like he’s keeping his anger inside, and I squeeze his fingers. He stares at the melted wax with blank eyes, and my body prickles with pins and needles. My cousin took my virginity, and now Kenzo knows the ugly truth.

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