Forty-Four #2
“Yes,” I say simply. “It’s your choice.”
“Am I meeting Vicky or my sister?”
“Your sister, I believe.”
“Good, because I don’t want to see that woman again.”
Her vehemence surprises me. I thought she liked Victoria—Vicky. They got along well enough at the dance, didn’t they? But then, Victoria was the last person to see her before she took the pills.
What was said? Why did I never ask? Now seems too late.
“If you don’t want to, you’ll never have to.”
She looks to the windows and the ocean view beyond, her hands clenched in her lap. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“Yes. The flight will be private; the meeting public, but discreet. Quite safe.”
“And you can’t come?”
“You heard him. You alone.”
She bites at her lip. “It would be nice to see Lucy again.”
“Give her my best.” I try to keep it light, while my stomach twists.
She looks at me playfully. “Aren’t you worried I won’t come back?”
More than you could ever know.
“Aren’t you worried I’ll hunt you down if you don’t?”
“Sounds fun,” she says, leaning in and kissing me. “But you’re not strong enough yet, old man.”
I stare at her. “What did you just call me?”
She pulls back. “Uh…”
I flick the phone off mute without taking my eyes off her. “Bastien, it’s a yes. Send the details.”
“Sure. Thank you both.”
“Goodbye.” I kill the call, and fix my wife with a look. “Old?” I repeat.
“So very old,” she says with a mock sigh.
“Definitely past your peak. I think you’re weak and frail, and you haven’t got the strength to pin me down, let alone spank me.
” She lifts the corner of my bedding, peering beneath.
“I’m not even sure you could get it up. Injuries like this…
you know… nothing to be ashamed of, but impotence is quite common, especially in men your age… ”
I make a grab for her, but she dances out of my reach.
“Slow, as well,” she comments, sitting back down in her chair. “Alas, woe is me, married to such a feeble old man.”
“Keep going,” I say. “I’m making a list.”
“You have a list already.”
“This isn’t a date list, it’s a punishment list. Just you wait until I’m well enough to get my hands on you.”
“Promises, promises,” she murmurs, picking up her book. “Never any payoff.”
I grind my teeth, staring at her while she pretends to ignore me.
But secretly, I’ve never been happier. She’s playing, she’s content, she’s mine.
And she knows it.
Amelia leaves two days later, flying from Portland on Bastien’s jet.
I lie in my bed, suffering the daily checks that the nurse undertakes, and unable to do more than that. I’m curt; I’m terse. I hate my body’s weakness, and I’m in a foul mood. But it’s not the nurse’s fault.
I’m missing my Little Stray.
This is the first time she’s gone off by herself in… months. The other times, Tony or Jorge were with her. Now, they’re somewhere around the house and grounds, keeping guard on me.
We don’t need guards. The Volkovs were apologetic and made swift justice for their latest transgression, and I don’t believe they’ll try something again.
That’s not what concerns me.
But what if Lucy persuades her to leave because our relationship isn’t healthy? That’s the far greater risk.
And she’d be right. Because it’s not.
That’s the truth, and I’m not blind to it. I’m not a normal man, but Amelia isn’t a normal woman. I can’t do a nine-to-five and court her with poorly cooked meals and dull sex in an apartment somewhere on the Upper East Side. It’s not who I am, it’s not who I’ve ever been.
She understands that—when she’s here. Now that she’s free, will she even want to come back? It should never, ever be a concern. So why does that thought worry me so much?
I lie in my bed, working through my exercises and ignoring the pain, doing what I can to get stronger. I need my strength, either to hunt down my Little Stray, or pin her down and fuck her like she’s never been fucked before.
Old? I’ll show her old.
The day crawls by, each passing hour deepening my fears. Has something happened to her? Was I wrong about how safe we are? Was her sister persuasive?
I want her happy, above all else. But if she thinks that’s best achieved without me, she’s wrong.
My shoulder twinges hard, the ache deep and sharp. I press my hand to it, but it’s not my injury, it’s my chest. My heart. A place under my ribs where the pain of loss has settled already, like I know she’s not coming back.
But that’s not true. She’s mine… isn’t she?
When will she be back? A lunch, a return trip to the airport, the flight, a car from Portland to here. Five o’clock at the earliest.
But five passes. So does six. Seven comes and goes without news, and by eight I’m reaching for my phone to call Bastien. I pause with my finger on the button, staring at his name on the screen.
What would Amelia think if I can’t trust her?
But what if something has happened, and I delay?
I drop my phone onto the bed and curse, clenching my fists. A day apart from her, and I’m a mess. She spent three months without me. No wonder she hated it so much.
Twenty after nine, a car pulls up outside. I strain my ears. The front door opens and closes, and she says something to the nurse. There’s no alarm in her tone; she’s fine.
I close my eyes, exhaling like I’ve been holding my breath for hours, my neck and shoulders finally unknotting.
Her footsteps sound on the stairs.
My door opens and she pokes her head around without coming fully in, a playful smile on her beautiful face. “Did you miss me?”
“Back already? I didn’t know you’d left.” I don’t know why I say it. Such a dick move.
Her eyes narrow and the smile fades. “You’re a bastard, Van Wyk.”
She withdraws her head, pulling the door behind her, and I can’t bear to see her leave.
“Amelia!” I call out, my voice breaking.
The door pauses. “What?”
“Every second without you was agony.” I tell her the truth, speaking to the gap between door and wall, not even able to see her. “I worried something would happen to you. I worried your sister would say something to upset you. And… I worried you…”
The door opens again, and she walks in. “Worried I what?”
I take a breath, letting it out. “Worried you wouldn’t want to come back.”
Her head tilts as she regards me for a long moment. “Did think about it,” she says at last. “But you’d hunt me down, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I growl. I wouldn’t accept any other option. I’m fucked up; fine, I accept it. Doesn’t change a thing.
“Anywhere I go?” she asks, the playful tone back.
I swallow hard, staring at her. She knows. She knows who I am, and she accepts it.
That’s what love is, even if she’s never said it. Except she just did.
“Nowhere you can hide,” I say, voice husky, my heart aching and tears pricking my eyes. She’s so beautiful, standing there, teasing me.
She takes a step closer. “You’d bring me back, wouldn’t you?”
“You know I would.”
“And you’d pin me down…” Her hand finds my knee beneath the bed covers, her fingers running up along my inner thigh.
“By the scruff of your neck, Little Stray.”
She leans in, brushing her lips over mine. “Better get stronger before I get bored waiting.”
I reach for her, but she dances back with a laugh.
“Don’t get stronger too fast,” she says. “Teasing you is so much fun.”
I let my hand fall. “You’ve always pushed.”
“True,” she says thoughtfully, and twists back and forth, the picture of innocence. “Maybe I like it when you lose control.”
“I’ve never lost control.”
“Maybe I hope you will, one day.”
I chuckle, then let out a breath. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for. “Dangerous games,” I mutter.
She reaches down and pats my cheek. “Put it on your list.”