Page 163 of Captive Ruin

“Drink this,” Van Wyk says.

“Can’t do coffee.” Just the thought makes me want to throw up.

“Water and some Advil,” he corrects.

I sit up, wincing, taking the pills and washing them down. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” He collects his coffee from the table and sits down on the edge of the bed. He’s already dressed, looking fresh and pristine in black slacks and shirt. Did he drink anything last night? In fairness, I can’t remember much of what happened after he danced with Vicky, save that Nat and I finished a bottle of champagne or three. Or I did and she watched.

“Did we…?” I let it trail off in the hope he’ll clarify.

“Dance? No, Little Stray. You were having difficulty standing by that point.” His tone is neutral, his expression careful, but I still pick up on his disappointment.

Not what I was referring to, but his reaction angers me. How dare he bring his disapproval to bear after what he’s done?

“You danced with another woman before you danced with me.” That’s the goddamn point, not how much I had to drink, or that we never had our dance.

He tilts his head to the side. “I asked, and you said yes.”

Wrong answer. “You asked, and I felt obliged.”

He presses his lips together, regarding me for a long moment. “I apologize,” he says at last. “That wasn’t my intent.”

Too little, too late.

“Whatever,” I mutter, drinking the rest of the water. It sits uncomfortably in my stomach, but it will make me feel better. I’m not sure I want to feel better.

“We didn’t do anything else, either,” he adds. “Call me old fashioned, but I prefer to engage with you while you’re…”

He doesn’t say it, so I do so for him. “Sober?”

“Well, conscious at the very least.”

I stare at him. “Fuck you, Van Wyk. Me being drunk crosses a line, but me saying ‘no’ doesn’t?”

“Are you suggesting you wanted me to take advantage of you?”

I scoff in bemusement. “How did you not when you pinned me over a table?”

“There’s a difference,” he says calmly.

“What difference?”

“Conscious and aware versus unconscious and not even participating? All the difference in the world.”

“Not that much difference. Choice ignored versus choice never made.”

“Active response, need, and engagement versus incapacity.”

My jaw drops. “Are you implying that I responded and engaged because I needed it?”

He nods like he’s conceding a point. “You’re right. ‘Needed’ was strong.”

“Thank you, finally some—” I cut myself off. “Strong?”

“‘Wanted’ is probably more accurate.” He rubs his chin. “A case could be made for ‘needed’; you were wound quite tight when you arrived at that gala. A lot more relaxed when you left, wouldn’t you say?”

The nerve of the man. “I was there to confront Serranto! Of course I was wound tight! How tight were you wound when you murdered him?”