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Christmas comes and goes. My family and Colin’s spend a quiet New Year’s evening in Great Brak River. I go to the beach and swim every day, but the cave brings back memories, so I return to my comfortable villa in Cape Town before the year is one week old.
Mom wanted me to stay until after my birthday. She suggested organizing a cocktail party. Disappointment was etched on her features when I declined. I made up an excuse of going out with my university friends in the city. The truth is that I’m scared. I’m scared Angelo will return. If he does, it’s best I don’t lure him to my family.
The closer the day of my nineteenth birthday gets, the more anxious I grow. Healing takes time, but I haven’t healed much since my dad’s murder. I started getting nightmares. As my birthday draws nearer, those horrific dreams become more frequent.
Guilt eats me alive. The lies and secrets are killing me. Keeping up a front is becoming more difficult with each passing day. The acting is exhausting.
For the world, I’m happy and carefree. For anyone looking in from the outside, I’m just another spoiled rich girl who lives in a fancy villa in Camps Bay and who drives a brand-new electric car every year. They’re not sports cars. However, the brands are reliable and on the upper end of the scale. Ryan insists it’s for my safety. He won’t let me buy a smaller, second-hand car, and I’m too worn-out to fight him on this.
I don’t want for anything. Ryan makes sure of that. He covers all my expenses, including my grocery and clothing bills. The allowance he gives me for entertainment goes straight into a savings account. Next year, my lecture hours will decrease. Having more time available will allow me to get a part-time job. There are many restaurants in Camps Bay, and the staff turnover is high. They’re always looking for waitresses. I’ll save every penny until I can afford plastic surgery to remove the brand on my skin.
Colin calls and offers to take me out for my birthday, knowing how much I dread the day, but I don’t have the energy to sit through a dinner in a fancy restaurant and pretend to be okay. I don’t want to cry on his shoulder either. I’d rather be alone. It takes a lot of convincing before he backs down, but he buys my lie of needing some pampering me-time and going out for a girls’ night on the town.
When the day finally dawns, I get up early and go for a long jog on the beach followed by a strenuous swim far out to sea. The exercise leaves me exhausted, which is exactly what I aimed for. If I’m too tired to think, the thoughts surrounding my birthday can’t harass me.
I climb up the path to the villa, pressing a hand over the stitch in my side while catching my breath. It’s a glorious day with not a cloud in the sky. The sun hangs big and yellow overhead, warming my wet skin.
After a rinse-down in the outdoor shower, I relax in the Jacuzzi while sipping coconut water to replenish my energy. I’m a healthy eater, but today I need comfort food. I have peanut butter and banana toast with pancakes and cream, enjoying my meal on the veranda. I even indulge in a brunch cocktail of champagne and orange juice. The air is clean, smelling like salt and sea. The lap of the waves on the shore is the best music. If not for my nerves, this would’ve been the perfect birthday.
When the temperature gets too hot, I go inside and switch on the AC. To help me relax, I opt for a bath instead of a shower and add my favorite lavender bath salt. While the tub is filling, I double-check the wall panel to ensure the security gate and the doors are locked and that the alarm is on. I’m always vigilant and on the lookout for people following me or hanging around the villa. Although I never notice anyone, I always get a creepy feeling that someone is watching me. To be on the safe side, I lower the window shutters before I strip and get into the bath.
The warm water soothes my muscles, and the lavender helps to relieve the ache after the physical exertion. The tub is built into a corner of the bathroom on the lower level of the house where the shrubs on the side of the rocky garden provide privacy. Without any neighbors in front of me, I can enjoy the view of the waves crashing on the beach from the large window that walls in one side of the tub, but I feel safer with the shutter down. It’s dark inside with the sun blocked out. I feel as if I’m tucked into a cocoon where no one and nothing can reach me.
I wash my hair and rinse the shampoo and conditioner with clean water, using the hand-held nozzle. Before the water has cooled completely, I pull the plug and take a towel from the hook on the wall. I step onto the bath rug and wrap the towel around me, and then I take a smaller towel to twist around my hair. Stripes of light fall through the grooves in the metal shutter onto the floor and fan over the mirror. I flip on the light switch and brush my teeth.
Despite the sinister significance of the date, I’m floating in a comfortable space after the endorphins of the exercise and the relaxing effect of the bath. As long as I stay inside, I feel safe. I make a mental note to thank Ryan for that. He went out of his way to find a place with every possible security precaution, and I’ve never been more grateful than today.
Since I have nothing planned and I’m not in a mindset to study, I’ll make popcorn and binge-watch television. I haven’t had time to do that in ages. It will be my birthday treat.
The idea perks me up as I saunter into the bedroom, heading for the closet. As soon as I enter the somber darkness, the hair stands up in my nape. A shiver crawls through me, contracting my skin.
I’m not alone.
I know it in an instant.
My heart starts pounding, every thud reverberating in my ears. My palms turn clammy where I grip the edges of the towel between my breasts. I look for a weapon even as I scan the dark corners of the room. And then I jerk to a standstill.
A man sits in the armchair in front of the sliding doors. With the shutters in front of the doors down, I can’t make out more than the black outline of his shape, but I already know who broke into my house. I know from the tension emanating from his relaxed pose and the bulkiness of his frame. I know from the smell of citrus and cedar that hangs faintly in the air.
I stop breathing. I stop looking for a weapon and focus on escaping, because I can’t beat the man who sits in my chair in strength.
His deep, disturbing voice washes over my senses. “Hallo, Sabella.”
His accent is fainter than I remember. Or maybe he got more practice in speaking English.
I back up a step, choosing anger as my armor. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“Don’t I get a hello? A,how was your flight?” His voice drops an octave. “A kiss?” When I don’t reply, he chuckles. “I guess not.”
I hate that I can’t press the panic button or call the police. I don’t want to endanger my family by phoning Ryan. I hate how helpless I am. The only weapon I have is pretending not to be scared. Men like Angelo feed on people’s fear. All I can do is act as if I have the situation under control.
“Get out of my house,” I say, keeping my voice as calm as I can. “You’re trespassing.”
“It’s been a long time,” he drawls. “Let me have a look at you.”
A click sounds. The lamp on the table goes on. The light spills around him, bringing the features etched into my mind to life. He’s broader. Stronger. I can see it even with him sitting. More dangerous than ever. Ominous energy rolls off him in waves. The light doesn’t dispel the darkness coming from within him. His hair is longer and messier. The scruff on his jaw must be two days old. He’s wearing a white shirt, smart black slacks, and dress shoes, but he looks less polished. Rougher.
The last few months haven’t been good to him.
