Chapter 5 Marfil #2
He didn’t say a word or even so much as glance back in my direction. Instead, he resumed pounding his knuckles against the boxing bag, the sound echoing through the silent room and immediately reawakening my frustration.
Once in my dance studio, I tried to forget that he was right outside.
It wouldn’t do any good to keep brooding over it; Sebastian was there to protect me, nothing more.
I turned on the waltz from Masquerade Suite by Aram Khachaturian, a Soviet composer who always made me feel better on days when I needed to forget about the world and let myself be transported far away.
I warmed up for twenty minutes, and even though I hadn’t done quite enough stretches on the barre, I didn’t care—I needed to dance.
I began to move around the room, the tips of my toes totally perpendicular to the floor, my pirouettes and arabesques almost perfect.
I longed to dance with another person… to jump up and be lifted through the air in the arms of my dance partner before an audience that valued my effort and dedication the way I’d always dreamed.
My mother had been a prima ballerina with the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, one of the best dance companies in the world, if not the best. The fact that my mother had been a star in the ballet world gave me a sense of infinite pride.
Ballet was something we both shared, something I had inherited from her and that no one, not my father or my uncle, had been able to take away from me.
Dancing was my one true passion, and I would do it forever, even if that meant finding the courage to defy the people who wanted me to quit.
Exhausted, I flopped onto the floor and was trying to catch my breath when my cell phone started to ring. I sat up, relieved to see that it was one of the people I loved most in the world: Gabriella. I turned off the music and answered the call.
“You were kidnapped, Marfil?” she shouted after I’d explained the reason for my message the night before.
“Don’t worry, Dad is taking care of it. But you can’t leave school; they might try to do the same thing to you, although I’m sure you’re safe there in London.”
“I want to see you,” she said, and I could picture her already packing her suitcase and begging our dad to let her miss a few days of school.
“I’m fine, Gabi, really. They’ve assigned me a bodyguard.”
There was a momentary silence on the other end of the line, followed by “Poor guy.”
I laughed, knowing that she was relaxed enough to make fun of me again.
“But for real, I want to see you. Can’t you talk to Dad? Even just for the weekend; it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, Mar.”
“I know… but it’s not a good idea for you to come back right now. You’ll be safer there, at least until we know who was behind the kidnapping.”
My sister, like me, was very stubborn, but I was finally able to make her understand that it wasn’t the best time to ask our father for favors.
We couldn’t talk much longer, since her school limited phone calls to fifteen minutes, so we said goodbye and promised to talk again soon.
Even though Gabriella seemed worried, I felt relieved knowing that she was going to put an end to her escapades beyond the confines of the school grounds.
When I walked out of my studio, I saw that Sebastian’s room was empty. I found him in front of the stove, cooking. His hair was still wet, and he was no longer wearing his shorts or sleeveless shirt. Instead, he now donned a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain black tee.
“What are you making?” I asked, walking over and taking a look at the vegetables simmering in the pan, filling my apartment with an unfamiliar yet welcoming aroma.
“Sauteed mushrooms with vegetables and shrimp.”
Was he going to invite me to eat any of that delicious dinner? Or would he serve himself a dish, take it to his room, and leave me to my greasy noodles from the Chinese restaurant on the corner?
“I’ll make you a plate, if you want.”
Oh, well, he did have some manners, at least.
“I’d love that, thanks.”
I went to my room. I couldn’t stand to be so close to him, nor his coldness.
After showering, I put on my pajamas and went back out to find the living room was once again empty.
On the table sat a plate of food, a glass, and a perfectly aligned knife and fork, waiting there for me so that I could have dinner… alone.
The next afternoon, I let Sebastian know I was going out for a run.
He didn’t seem thrilled with the idea, or with anything I did for that matter, but I set out, with him behind me, toward Central Park.
I wasn’t sure why, but I felt a need to return to the spot where the kidnapping had occurred.
I needed to confront my fear in order to return to some sense of normalcy.
It made me furious that someone had converted my favorite place in New York into something I had to fear.
I was even more furious that I hadn’t even been able to defend myself; I didn’t stand a chance in a situation like that one due to a total lack of self-defense training.
We reached the water fountain at almost the same time of day as when I’d been kidnapped a week prior.
I stopped and looked around. It was the ideal spot for an attack, with trees and an outcropping of rocks that hid the fountain from view of the path.
I noticed that, a short distance away, the road that looped around the park could be seen through a wrought iron gate.
I stepped toward it, heading deeper into the trees, until a hand caught my arm, stopping me.
“Marfil, don’t try so hard to tempt fate.”
Sebastian seemed more annoyed than nervous.
I knew perfectly well that if I were in any real danger, he wouldn’t have let me get that far.
No, he had some other reason for stopping me.
And while I was curious about what truly concerned him, I was more interested in understanding how somebody had managed to carry me out of the park without anyone noticing.
“You just do your job; that’s what you’re here for.” My words came out ruder than expected, but he was curt with me all the time. I pulled loose from his grip and walked through the trees until I reached the gate.
“It’s locked…” I said, more to myself than to him.
I tugged at the padlock, attached to an iron chain. On the other side of the gate, cars sped along the road boardering the park.
“Whoever did it must’ve had access to this key…”
“You don’t know that. They could’ve just broken the lock,” he argued.
The chain and lock were both rusted.
“If they had broken it, the replacement lock would be new, not one that looks like it’s been here for years.” I turned to Sebastian, an uneasy feeling in my stomach. “There’s something strange about this whole fucking thing… It doesn’t add up.”
Sebastian barely blinked. “Do you remember anything?”
I shook my head. “Maybe if I saw the people again… I might be able to identify them. I have a dream every night about someone chasing me. I hope that whoever did that to me ends up behind bars.”
I moved away from the gate and started jogging back home. For some reason, I was suddenly anxious to be back within the confines of my apartment. I didn’t feel like talking about the kidnapping or who’d done it, much less my dreams, with someone who, at the end of the day, was a stranger to me.
I sped up, letting my mind clear and forgetting about the man trailing behind me.
When I reached the entrance to my building, I realized that Sebastian was nowhere in sight. My heart started pounding even harder as I looked around, confirming that I was alone. But someone was watching me; I could feel it.
Was I being too trusting of Sebastian’s presence as protection?
“Fuck!” I heard someone say behind me. Sebastian, furious, the veins in his neck standing out from anger as much as from exertion, finally appeared.
“I thought you were right behind me.”
“Just go inside.”
I did as he said, but he stayed behind, carefully observing my street for a moment before following me into the elevator.
We were both panting, trying to catch our breath. I could tell by the tension in his body that I had managed to piss him off. Well, it was about time.
We entered the apartment, and he closed the door harder than necessary. “You can’t run away from me. Do you not understand how much danger you’re in?”
“You’re here to protect me, aren’t you? Well, then do it! And do it in a way that doesn’t interfere with my life and my exercise routine.”
“No fucking idea…” he said under his breath. He headed to his room, where he’d probably lock himself away for the rest of the night.
I rushed to beat him to his door and stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking his path. “I’m not going to let you talk to me like that.”
Sebastian exhaled through his nose and looked down at me. He was so tall that his chin almost touched his chest in his attempt to return my stare. “I regret to inform you that the word tolerance is going to have to begin to form part of your vocabulary, beautiful.”
I blinked. Sebastian Moore had lost his cool! I almost enjoyed seeing him strip off his mask of infinite self-control.
“You work for me,” I reminded him.
As he moved me aside to pass, he cupped my chin and pulled at my lower lip with his thumb. The movement was so fleeting that I might’ve even imagined it.
“I work for your father,” he clarified.
Then he walked around me and disappeared into his room.