Page 154 of Captive Ruin

Tony and Jorge resume their daily watch of me like nothing has changed, and I start swimming again, because it gives me another reason to not be in the house. The upside is it works off the calories from the wine; the downside is that it makes me hungrier, but that’s solved by eating alone in the sunroom. I’ve never seen Van Wyk in there, save for the rare times he comes looking for me.

A week after Van Wyk’s return, Tony’s waiting for me when I come out of the pool room from changing after my swim, hair still damp and a towel around my shoulders. His arms are crossed, lips pressed together thin.

I stop. “Something amiss?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

I flap the end of my towel at him. “Go ahead.”

“What’s the matter with you, Princess? These last few weeks you’ve been…” He stops and huffs a sigh. “…unreachable.”

“Unreachable?” I almost laugh. Of all the words to use. “Do you know what that means?”

“Of course I do—”

What starts as an echo of annoyance builds into something far more substantial. For the first time in the few weeks he’s referring to, I let loose on my feelings. But the only one I have left is anger, and I’ve been suppressing it too long.

I take a step forward, getting up in his face as the anger takes me over. “Unreachable is when my friends worry that I’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“I wasn’t talking about—”

“Unreachable is not being able to visit anyone I care about.” I jab him in the chest, anger growing into fury, a sizzle of electricity coursing up my spine. “Because you or him say no.”

He takes a pace back. “I get it, but that’s—”

“Unreachable is my fucking life, Tony!” I explode. “Where has it gone these past months? Have you seen it? Because I sure as hell haven’t!”

“Good,” he says bluntly.

I blink, stopped short by that curt response. “Good? What do you mean good?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you feel anything in… weeks.” He juts his chin forward. “So good.”

I glare at him, pushing past as I head back to the house.

Tony’s voice follows me. “He doesn’t deserve it, you know.”

Oh he didn’t just go there.

I swing back to face him. “What the hell would you know about what Van Wyk does or doesn’t deserve?”

“More than you, evidently. And his name is Lukas.”

“Yeah, everyone knows him better than I do,” I say bitterly. “I’m only his wife.”

“Then act like it.”

“Fuck you, Tony,” I spit. “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not. But I’ve got eyes, and I can see how miserable you’re making each other. And if you think he’ll give up on you, you’re wrong. That’s never been his style.”

“Oh, I know that much.” I laugh bitterly. “There’s no escape at all, is there?”

Tony shakes his head. “You’re twisting my words.”

But I’m done with this, already walking back to the house.

He was right about one thing: I am angry. I’m fucking livid. I have been for so long, pushing it down, bottling it up.