There was deathly silence in the car. Only Theron's hand, clasping mine, reminded me that there were people here.
Running away from him turned out not to be so simple. I knew that. But deep down I still clung to the hope that he would simply leave me alone.
He did not take out his phone—as he usually did in the car. We were stuck in traffic. He placed my palm on his thigh and covered it with his own, never stopping the slow motion of his thumb.
He was looking out the window and did not turn toward me.
A painfully comfortable silence between us. As always.
I tilted my head back and closed my eyes.
Thinking now made no sense. In the near future, he would have complete control over me.
Lately my head had been buzzing. Now it was possible to relax.
"We've arrived," his quiet voice pulled me out of my drowsiness.
We got out and headed toward my building. Several of his bodyguards were already standing there.
And next to them—Brittany.
She stepped toward us, and the guards shifted after her.
"Is Derek not with you?" Brittany looked around.
"He'll be back soon," Theron clarified briefly.
"And is this your lover or what?" she swept him with a contemptuous glance. "Another liar? Again?"
I let her questions pass by and headed for the door.
"They called me from school," she began.
I turned around, not understanding where she was leading this.
"They told me my father was found dead," her voice trembled. "Is it true?"
"Yes. He's dead," I answered dryly.
I didn't yet know the details. What had happened to his body didn't matter. The fact remained: that bastard was dead. Finally.
Brittany began to cry, covering her face with her hand.
I didn't know what to say to her or how to explain it. So I left everything as it was.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
And then I noticed how Theron looked at me in surprise. Everything that was happening with me really did look strange.
"Yes," Brittany answered, wiping away her tears and coming closer. "And you, mister, do you also want to rob her? Like the previous guys?" She cast an appraising look at him. "Sis, are you still just as naïve? Has life taught you nothing?"
"Stop it. He's my boss, not my lover," I said and went inside, heading for the elevator.
Theron walked beside me in silence. Most likely not understanding my relationship with my sister.
"Oh, so you're that very boss who made her rich," Brittany caught up with us, the security moving behind her. "Maybe then you'll buy me a new phone? Because my sister's stingy."
Theron looked at her questioningly.
"You were just crying over your father's death, and now you're talking about a phone."
It was almost pleasant to watch his surprise.
"Don't get me wrong," she sniffed and stepped into the elevator with us. "Those were happy tears. I don't know how it happened, but it's what I've been dreaming of for a long time. And my sister too. I'm sure of it."
I didn't answer. I didn't even look in her direction.
Theron merely ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head—either from weariness with Brittany or from awkwardness, perfectly aware that he himself had killed him.
After that confession, we went up in complete silence.
I opened the door, and Brittany went in first.
Theron stopped me at the entrance. Pulled me to him.
"I'm going to pick up Derek," he said quietly, and fell silent.
"Okay," apparently he had been expecting a different answer from me.
"Don't run," he said even more quietly, making sure my sister wouldn't hear.
I lifted my head and looked at him. Was it a threat or a warning? He was looking calm.
When he was that calm, I couldn't understand what he meant. I didn't know how to read him in that state.
I didn't answer anything. He left.
The guards remained on the floor.
I went inside and closed the door. Brittany had already turned on the television.
After rummaging through the refrigerator, I found nothing.
I needed to order food. I turned on my phone, which I had almost forgotten about, and placed an order for pizza.
There were many missed calls from Theron. The messages about the meeting were deleted.
Had she covered her tracks?
"Do you know what happened to Father?" she asked coldly, not taking her eyes off the television.
"No," I lied. I needed to hide this from her. If the police did decide to question her, I didn't know whether she would be able to lie.
"It's just strange that you disappeared at the same time this happened," Brittany turned and stared piercingly at me.
"I didn't disappear because of him," I continued building a wall of lies. "But because of Theron. My boss."
"He brings you home, leaves security here. You disappear because of him for almost two weeks, and then—he's just a boss?" she laughed and turned away. "Tell those fairy tales to children. I'm not a child anymore."
That ended the conversation. She didn't ask anything else.
I wouldn't have said anything more anyway.
Dragging her into this was pointless. The less she knew, the easier it was for me.
Half an hour later, the pizza was delivered. As soon as Brittany had eaten half of it, there was a knock at the door.
I looked through the peephole, saw Derek, and opened immediately.
He was standing there with a sarcastic smile and a crutch under his arm.
"What happened?" Brittany immediately began examining him.
"Oh, nothing much, an accident," he demonstratively walked in, leaning on the crutch.
"Is that necessary?" I asked.
"No," he put the crutch aside, went to the table, only slightly limping, and stared at the remains of the pizza. "Who ordered with pineapple again? That's perversion," he took a slice and began chewing.
"I like it, and that's what matters," Brittany snorted, returning to the couch.
I nodded at his leg—a silent question. He, continuing to chew, gave a thumbs-up.
The situation was absurd, but we accepted it too calmly. We weren't normal.
Derek settled next to Brittany and pretended as if nothing serious had happened. Just a scratch—to ward off unnecessary questions.
Closer to midnight he left. My sister began getting ready for bed. I was unpacking my bag again.
There was another knock at the door.
I cautiously looked through the peephole. Theron.
Hesitantly, but still, I opened.
"May I come in?" he asked.
Since when did he need my permission?
I let him in. At that moment Brittany came out into the living room.
"Oh, isn't it a bit late for a 'just' boss to visit an employee?" she asked mockingly.
"And isn't it a bit late for a teenager to still be awake?" Theron replied just as sarcastically.
"I don't know what you're doing here when I'm not around, but I sleep on the bed. So make yourself comfortable on the couch," she threw arrogantly and disappeared into the bedroom.
She had no idea whom she was talking to like that. I only shook my head in disappointment.
Theron walked through in silence, took off his shoes, his jacket, loosened his tie, and settled on the couch.
"Seriously?" my hands dropped at this mess.
"Your sister gave her approval," he said and turned on the television without sound.
I silently went to the bedroom, took a blanket and a pillow, and brought them to him.
He settled in as if he had always slept here, and lay down.
I looked at him and caught myself wanting to stay nearby, but fatigue took its toll. I just wanted to fall into bed and shut down.
The mattress in the motel had been damn hard.
I returned to the bedroom and lay down next to my sister.
"Did he really stay?" she asked.
"Yes."
"What an obedient one," Brittany smirked.
"Sleep," I cut her off. I had neither the desire nor the strength to listen to her teenage jabs at Theron.
My body was heavy and tired. My head—tense. Sleep was out of the question.
"I can't fall asleep," she suddenly said. "As soon as I close my eyes, I hear Father laughing with satisfaction and beating you. And you only moan in pain, not allowing yourself to scream." She fell silent. "How do you even live with this? How do you fall asleep?"
I didn't know the answer. At first I, too, had been tormented by nightmares.
I was probably abnormal if I could close my eyes and not go back there.
She didn't wait for an answer and turned away.
All this time I hadn't even thought about the fact that my stepfather had died. Or that Theron had killed a man.
There was pain only from one thing—he had let her become my greatest fear.
I quietly got out of bed and went into the living room. Theron was sleeping under the softly playing television.
I stopped nearby, studying his calm facial features.
What is wrong with me?
Looking at him, I felt calm. All the evenings we had spent here together had been crossed out by his sister-in-law.
"Do you want me to leave?" he whispered without opening his eyes.
"Yes and no," I answered, not looking away.
He opened his eyes and looked straight at me.
"What does that mean?"
"You won't sleep properly on the couch. But if that's your choice—I don't care," I said honestly.
He smiled slightly and continued looking at me.
"Why do you keep going if it was just a game?" I asked, hoping that in this silence he would either understand or explain.
It was hard for me to believe that he could want me as a person, while still not letting Amy go.
"I already told you. Do you want me to repeat it?"
"You shouldn't believe it and you shouldn't trust," he repeated what he had said earlier. "It doesn't matter to me, honestly. One day you'll see everything yourself."
He closed his eyes.
"Good night," he added, as if cutting off the conversation.
I looked at him for a few more seconds, then returned to the bed.
The night was long.
There was a war in my head—between meaning, thought, and reason.
Theron Vescari
The light in Mirey's window was still on.
It was dark at Derek's. So he was still with her.
The waiting pressed down on me. I hated waiting.
"I've moved all the meetings. Tomorrow you have a free day," Ostin was reporting beside me. "Only the evening auction remains."
"Good," I confirmed.
"Are you also planning to go with Amy?" Ostin asked.
"Yes. And notify Mirey. She must be there." It was important.
"You didn't explain the situation to her?" Ostin asked again.
"No."
"You should have explained that you didn't know about the stepfather," he insisted.
"Shut up," I ordered.
All these explanations were excuses. She wouldn't even listen, knowing that it had all been a convenient game. Even if I hadn't known about the stepfather, I could have stopped Amy.
I acted like an idiot, deciding that Mirey was strong enough and would put her in her place herself.
For that negligence, I would have to pay.
"You can go home," I gave the order.
He immediately got out of the car.
I looked up again and waited for the light to turn on in Derek's window.