“His hands are tied, Mom. And anyway…” I trail off before I can finish my sentence. Mom doesn’t need to know about the strawberry scarf or what that means to Rob. “Anyway, it’ll all work out. Trust me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I am.”
She sighs. “I have to admit, talking to you helps. You do sound like you’re doing well.”
“I am doing well.” As well as can be expected under the circumstances, at least.
“But what about your job?”
“He let me contact the agency yesterday. I spoke to Chadwick to let him know I’m taking a leave of absence, and I’ll contact him when I want to start work again.”
“Won’t that hurt your career? You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are.”
“I can’t concentrate on anything right now as it is, so it all works out fine,” I tell her. Mostly true, although Aleks’s walls would beg to differ.
“I suppose he wouldn’t let you work anyway.”
“I actually think he would. I’m the one who made the choice to stop.”
I frown, wondering why I feel the need to defend Aleks, even though he’s the reason I have to make all these hard choices in the first place.
“If you say so, dear.”
I decide to change the subject. “Have you been going to your book club meetings?”
“Not since… all of this,” she says rather vaguely.
It was the same way after Dad died. Mom still talks around it to this day. Well, when your dad… you know. As if it won’t be real if she doesn’t say the words aloud.
“You should go back.”
“I can’t just continue on with life as if nothing has happened.”
“That is exactly what you should do,” I fire back. “I told you, I’m living well here and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t do the same. Go to book club. Please. For me?”
She lets that sit for a moment. “I suppose I can think about it.”
“Good.”
“Are you still talking to her?” I smile when I hear Mia’s voice from the other side.
“Hold on, honey. Mia wants to talk.”
“Okay. Take care of yourself, Mom. And don’t worry about me.”
“I’m your mother, dear. I always worry about you.”
She passes the phone over. I can hear Mia panting slightly as she walks through the house. “Hey, you,” she says, between labored breaths. “How ya holding up?”
“Good enough, I guess. A little better.”
“Forced isolation has left you with plenty of time. I hear people in jail get really good at push-ups.”
“So we’re onto jokes now?” I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t say I’m totally isolated. I see people.”
“Like who?” she scoffs.
“Um, well, the maids. Some of his men. And, uh…”
“Him?”
“Not often,” I say quickly. “Not if I can help it.”
“What’s it like?” she asks curiously. “Being around him?”
“It’s fine,” I say, careful to choose my words so she doesn’t revert to Big Sister Who Knows Best mode. “I mean, I really don’t see him much.”
“And he hasn’t tried to slip into your bed at night?”
“Mia!”
“What? It’s a valid question.”
“It’s a repetitive one. He’s not that type.”
“For someone who claims not to spend a lot of time with the man, you seem to have a pretty good handle of his character.”
“It’s just a feeling.”
“Mhmm.”
“Don’t do that,” I snap. “I’m not—”
“Stockholm Syndrome is a thing, you know?” she cuts in. “Especially when the guy who kidnaps you looks like Paris.”
“Paris?”
“You know, Paris, from Troy? Orlando Bloom?”
I snort. “I think you mean from The Iliad, you uncultured swine. And no, not like Paris. Aleks is more of an Achilles if anything.”
“Wasn’t Achilles gay?”
“Not in the movie, he wasn’t.”
“But that was the Brad Pitt one, right?”
“Yeah.”
I’ve watched that dumb movie like a thousand times. And it wasn’t for Paris.
“Well, obviously because they cast the wrong man. Orlando Bloom is not my type. Paris was supposed to be beautiful.”
“So you think Aleks is beautiful?” I tease, turning it around on her.
“Objectively speaking, yes,” she says. “But he kind of ruined the effect when he took me and my family hostage.”
I cringe. “Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then she says, “Liv,” in a tone I don’t like.
“Yeah?”
“I feel like you’re not telling me something.”
I frown. “Not true. I’ve told you everything.”
“Really? Because whenever we start talking about Aleks, you sound… different.”
“Different how?”
“Like you’re guilty about something.”
Jesus. Talking to my siblings is dangerous. They know me way too well. Mia can’t even see my face and she still picked up on my guilt.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“C’mon, honey. You’re running with the big dogs now. You’ve got to learn to lie better.”
I move towards the window and look past the garden towards the lake. I learned only yesterday that the lake is situated inside the compound, which means I can walk down there if I want.
“Tell me what it is,” she urges.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Olivia May.”
Uh-oh. She pulled out the middle name. Now, I know she means business.
I bite my lip, thinking about how to answer, but I get distracted when I see Aleks’s broad silhouette moving down the paved pathway that cuts through the garden. Demyan is right next to him.
Even from this distance I can’t help but admire the physical perfection of his body. The easy, arrogant walk. You can spot his confidence from space.
They bypass the garden and head down to the lake.
“… Hello? Earth to Liv. Where’d you go?”
“Uh, nowhere.”
Like I could tell her the truth. She’d skin me alive.
“Hey, munchkin,” Mia says, her tone growing softer. “You remember who I am, right? I’m not some random friend or colleague. I’m your big sister. You used to be able to tell me everything.”
I sigh. “Guilting me is usually Mom’s job.”
“Mom retired early. Now, it’s my turn.”
It’d be so easy to tell her. I’m feeling something and it terrifies me. But for whatever reason, I can’t bring myself to admit it. Maybe I’m more like Mom than I’m willing to admit: too afraid of the truth to say it out loud.
“You need to get out of the house more,” I tell her instead. “You need to meet someone.”
“Men my age are so damn boring. They don’t interest me.”