He’d given her a purpose. It felt as though all her life had been leading toward the exact sequence of events necessary to cross paths with this woman. He had shown her the difference between light and darkness, love and hate so that she might join the fight against the evil of the world. He had sent her an angel to follow. Amaya had made it her mission to find her.
The last seven years feel like a lie.
“Are you?” she asks, “going to kill me?” She’s not sure she cares one way or another.
VV sighs. “You came to find me because you want answers. You’ve earned the right to get a few of them. I’m not going to kill you, Amaya—no matter what you decide to do. Justice comes for us all, and I’m no exception.”
Yes, Amaya thinks, she’s more than paid the price for her curiosity. She refuses to be grateful for VV’s assurances not to murder her. “Why did you save me? You obviously don’t have an issue with me getting raped in front of you. You didn’t help me. You didn’t help those girls.” Tears of frustration spill over her cheeks. She must look pathetic.
VV sighs long and low, choosing her words carefully. “A weak man has doubts before a decision; a strong man has them afterward—Karl Kraus. I told you earlier I would never choose the moment over the movement again, and I meant it.” She takes a deep breath. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not without guilt—but it comes after, Amaya, not before.”
“So you wanted this to happen.” Amaya sobs. It isn’t the rape; she’s capable of washing that horrific fact away with a hot shower. It’s the betrayal. She’s been sober for seven years, and now she wonders if she can score some vidrio before she goes back to her lonely apartment.
“No,” VV scowls. “What I wanted was for you to live the rest of your life and forget about me. I never asked for your help. I’m not The Vagina Vigilante, Amaya! I never asked to be your superhero.”
“I know!” Amaya shouts. “I just—I wanted it to mean something.” She’s limp on the mattress beneath her; she’s lost all will to survive. “I wanted to believe God had a plan for me, a reason for why my parents got killed and why I’m always alone. But…I guess there isn’t. There’s no fucking reason at all.”
The two women are silent for a long time before VV stands and walks toward the bed with a knife in her hands. She stands over Amaya, still wearing the mask. Amaya can see now, her eyes are light brown, a dark shade of honey. She traces Amaya’s body with the knife before putting it to her face and tracing the scar with the blade. “God helps those who help themselves,” she whispers.
“Let me see your face,” Amaya pleads. She needs to see her angel for the devil she is.
VV strokes her sweaty hair away from her face and looks into her eyes. “Not yet,” she says. Abruptly she cuts one of Amaya’s arms loose and walks backward until she’s standing over the unconscious body of The Ram. “Untie yourself. It will give me time to explain your decision.”
While Amaya works on the knots holding her other arm, her former savior speaks, “You said you want to help me, to be my sidekick.” She glances down at The Ram and then back up at Amaya. “How far are you willing to go to get what you want, Amaya?”
“You’re about to see how far, bitch. Just wait.” Amaya yanks her arm loose and hisses at the rope burn.
VV laughs and reaches back toward the chair she was sitting in and retrieves a 9mm. She points it at Amaya like it wouldn’t mean anything to shoot her where she sits, promises be damned. VV can’t be trusted—it’s the first lesson she taught her.
“I know I deserve that, but it’s not going to be today,” VV says.
Amaya glares and keeps working on untying herself. “What now? How’s this part of the fucking movement?”
VV lowers her weapon but keeps it at her side. “He had your mother killed, you know.” Amaya has whiplash from the change in conversation. What does her mother’s murder have to do with anything?
“The police chief,” VV clarifies. “After your dad was shot by those cops in his bodega, your mother waged war on the NYPD. She was suing them, so Morelli coerced some young neighborhood kids to do