Phil’s loud curse comes from a distance behind me. When I look over my shoulder, I see the neighbors peeling out of their doors. Their interest is enough to make Phil turn around and limp back to his house.
I stop running. What if he calls Damian? I feel like hitting myself on the head. It was a stupid move. Now I’m stuck alone, outside, in the dark, without my bag and purse.
Looking up and down the road, I consider my options. I have to find a way of getting to Reyno. I can bribe him for money. He doesn’t have to know I left my phone with the incriminating recording behind. I’m going to have to hitchhike.
Setting off in the direction of the main road, I glance behind me again. The neighbors have gone back to their dinners and televisions. Phil’s door is firmly closed.
As I blow out a sigh of relief, something hard hits me over the head. My mind cries no as I fall to the pavement on my hands and knees. Before I have time to look at the face of my attacker, he hits me a second time.
Pain explodes in my skull. Stars follow, and then darkness.
Damian
My first stop is at Reyno’s. He opens the door wearing slippers and a robe with a Holiday Inn logo.
“It’s after nine,” he says even as he opens the door wider.
For the fee I pay him, he’ll open his door at two in the morning if I say so. I follow him to the lounge and let him pour me a drink while I weigh my words.
He hands me a whisky. “What happened?”
“Lina’s gone.”
He turns as white as his stolen hotel robe. “Gone how?”
Twirling the glass, I stare at the liquor. “She ran.”
He flops into an armchair and downs his drink as if the shock is personal, as if Lina ran from him.
“Any idea where she might’ve gone?”
He looks at me accusingly. “No.”
“She’s not safe out in Johannesburg alone.”
He slams his glass down on the side table. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You’re her shrink. You must have an inkling of what her thought process will be.”
Agitation filters into his tone. “She had nowhere else but you.”
My pulse thuds in my temples. “Say what you mean.”
“Why did she run?”
I take a sip of the alcohol, welcoming the burn in my throat. “I punished her.”
“How?”
“Cane.”
He scoffs. “And you wonder why she ran?”
“I don’t wonder why. I wonder where.”
“For her sake, I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”
“Is there anything I need to know?”
“You’re asking me to break my patient confidentiality clause.”
It’s my turn to scoff. “Don’t pretend to be ethical, all of a sudden.”
“No,” he says angrily. “There’s nothing else you need to know.”
“Call me if you hear from her.”
“I’m sure she’s just hiding out somewhere, licking her wounds. Lina is proud. She’s not the kind of woman who’ll enjoy being punished.”
“Does anyone?”
“Some women crave the pain. I don’t know the history of her self-mutilation, but I don’t think Lina is a masochist. If that’s what you need, you have the wrong partner.”
“I didn’t ask for psychological advice.” I leave the glass on the table and turn for the door.
“Damian.”
I turn and wait.
“She’s not crazy. I don’t think she’s ever been.”
I continue to wait, feeling there’s more to come.
“You should let me declare her mentally competent,” he says carefully, measuring my reaction.
“No.”
Perplexed, he stares at me. “Why not?”
It’s easier to keep someone against their will when their legal decisions are in your hands. Holding all power over Lina is warped. I’m not beyond admitting it. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s mine or that I’ll never let her go. I’ll use whatever means I must to keep her.
“Call me.” I slam the door behind me as I go.
It starts to rain, again. Running my hands over my head, I look up at the dark sky. In no time, my jacket and shirt are soaked, but I don’t feel wetness or cold. All I feel is the ice in my heart. A piece of me is missing. Without her, my heart may as well be hacked out. She’s been a part of me for so long, I don’t know how to exist without her. She’s been a part of me from the day I first saw her, even when she belonged to another man. I won’t rest until she’s back where she belongs.
Lina
The pain in my head is horrific. The hammering won’t stop. I’m aching everywhere from my waist down. Opening my eyes slowly, I take in my surroundings. I’m sitting on a chair in the darkest corner of a room with a single lamplight. I try to swallow the dryness of my mouth away, but my tongue is too thick. I try to move, but my arms and legs are tied. Panic flushes through me, intensifying the throbbing in my skull. My memory returns with sharp shards of fear. Forcing calm, I try to breathe and not alarm whoever has taken me to the fact that I’m awake.