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I jump over the wall and bang on the door. Footsteps shuffle inside.
“Who is it?” a male voice calls.
“Gabriel Louw.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation before the door swings open on a crack. A short, bald man dressed in a vest and a pair of boxer shorts regards me with skepticism. He shoots a look over my shoulder, his gaze traveling up and down the street.
“I’m alone,” I say with a cold smile.
“Well, well, if it ain’t Owen’s ugly duckling. Howzit?”
I should kill him for that remark, but I need information. Shoving past him, I make my way into his house. The place smells like old socks and stale cabbage. The carpets are worn, and the furniture has seen better days. Business must be slow. Or maybe not. On the table, there are several bags filled with white powder. Coke or maybe cat.
His eyes follow mine. A thin layer of perspiration shines on his forehead. “What can I do you for?” he asks with humorless slang. “Want a beer?” He shifts his weight.
He’s hospitable enough, but he wants me gone.
“Remember Marvin Haynes?”
Cocking his neck, he blinks twice. “Yeah. Who doesn’t?”
“You must’ve known him well, seeing that you were supposed to marry his daughter.”
His puffy eyes narrow, and he utters a forced chuckle. “He lived down the road, but we weren’t thick with each other. Saw his missus from time to time in the pharmacy. Why do you ask?”
“If Valentina Haynes was promised to you, why didn’t your family take her and her brother in after her mother died?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “With her daddy gone, the deal was off.”
“You didn’t want to honor the agreement?”
“She’s not my type.”
Bull fucking shit. “She’s a very pretty woman, isn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t like pretty? Or you don’t like women?”
“Look, she didn’t do it for me.”
“You backed out because she didn’t do it for you?”
“Yeah.”
He’s lying through his crooked, yellow teeth.
“Why do you want know?” he asks, trying to look nonchalant, but his voice breaks on the last word.
I shrug. “Curiosity.”
With a nod, I go back to my car. Before I’m inside, the idiot has his cellphone in his hand, looking at me through the tattered lace curtains as he makes a call. I should’ve tapped his phone before my visit. It doesn’t matter. I’ll find out. I text Anton with Lambert’s name and address, as well as the date and time, instructing him to get a recording of the conversation and send it as an encrypted message to my private email account.
* * *
Valentina
When I step outside Kris’ house on late Sunday afternoon, Rhett is waiting across the road next to the Mercedes. He opens the backdoor in silent instruction for me to get in. Not a word passes between us during the drive to Parktown. My heart is sad to leave Charlie. I feel guilty for not being able to take care of him, but more than that, I miss his presence. His joy is innocent and genuine. He’s the only piece of uncomplicated truthfulness in the twisted emotions of my life.
Despite my sadness, my body starts humming when we get nearer to the house. Like a conditioned animal, my body becomes aroused at the knowledge that it will soon be with my captor, while my brain condemns the reaction. I hate this division between my thoughts and physical reactions. I’m at constant war with myself.
Gabriel himself waits on the porch. My heart gives an unwelcome lurch at the sight of his muscular shape. He gets the door and my parcels, the new clothes still unpacked and the price tags intact. Rhett disappears to wherever. The minute he’s gone, Gabriel brushes his lips over the shell of my ear.
“Welcome home.”
The words grate on me. This isn’t my home. My home is with Charlie. What Gabriel is doing to us as a family is wrong. I hurry inside and make my way to my room. A minute later, Gabriel steps inside, standing like a menacing, dark energy at the foot of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Aren’t you happy you got to spend time with your brother?”
I give him a hard look. “Of course I am.”
I start unpacking the clothes, taking my time to fold each item meticulously.
He lets me carry on like this for a while before taking the pile from my hands and leaving it on the bed. “Let’s go for a swim.”
My jaw drops. He’s inviting a house servant for a dip in his pool?
“What do you say, Valentina?”
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“You don’t need one.”
Without waiting for a response, he takes my wrist, pulls me through the kitchen and out the backdoor. On the deck, he starts stripping his clothes.
I glance around to make sure we’re alone. “What are you doing?”
“Swimming naked with you.”
“Are you crazy?”
“We’re alone. Magda’s out, and Carly won’t be back before tomorrow.”
