Torn Read online

He turns to me. “He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? He didn’t say anything to me.”

  Gregory shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe he didn’t want to bust into the romantic mood of your evening.”

  I feel myself blush. Did he hear us? See us? He’s watched before.

  One corner of his mouth curves upward and he gives a short exhale as if to say it’s so easy to fuck with me.

  “I’ve got some work to do today so you’re on your own,” he says, before heading up the stairs and disappearing into, I guess, his room.

  I glance once more at the closed study door and go upstairs to my own room, sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I’ve got some work to do today so you’re on your own.”

  What did he think? I’d want to hang out with him?

  It takes me just a few minutes to change into a bikini, the most modest one I can find out of the dozen Sebastian ordered for me. I grab a towel and head back down.

  I’ll swim a few laps, clear my head. I haven’t exercised since I got here and it’ll be good for me.

  Before heading outside, I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator in the kitchen. I set my towel on one of the lounge chairs and twist my hair into a bun, securing it tightly so it doesn’t get in my way. Then I dive in.

  That first moment when I fully submerge is always my favorite, when my head goes under and the water is cool and refreshing and the only sound I hear is that gurgling of water.

  I take long strides, staying beneath the surface as long as possible, reaching the other side before I come up for air and dive back in.

  This, to me, is my escape. It was the same at home, going into town to the rec center with its pool, indoors in winter and to the lake in the summer months. I wonder if I can swim in the sea here.

  After too many laps to count, I break the surface, out of breath, and grab hold of the wall at the deep end. I lean my chin on my forearms and look out at the sea.

  I know not to swim in the canals of Venice proper, but I must be able to swim out here. We’re far enough away.

  I lift myself out of the pool, water gliding off me as I swing one leg out, then the other. I stand and I turn to find my towel and freeze.

  Gregory is straddling the chair next to the one where my things are, elbows on his thighs, fingers intertwined, chin resting there.

  He’s watching me. His hair’s wet and he’s changed his clothes, so I assume he’s had a shower.

  “You’re a strong swimmer.”

  I have to walk by him to pick up my towel and I do, quickly, but he grabs the towel and pulls it back before I reach it.

  “Can I have my towel, please?”

  He lets his gaze openly run over me and I look down too. The suit is a pretty shade of deep coral and even though it’s the most modest one, it’s still like wearing my underwear in front of him.

  He holds out the towel.

  I take it, let it fall open and wrap it around me.

  “Why are you here? I thought you had work to do.”

  He leans back, looks up at me.

  “I like watching you.”

  I don’t expect that, and I turn to go because I don’t know what to do or say. But he grabs my wrist.

  “Sit.”

  “No.”

  He tugs. “Sit with me.”

  “Let me go,” I say, looking down to where he’s got hold of me.

  “I don’t bite, Helena.”

  I meet his eyes. Dark, not as dark as Sebastian’s though. His have specks of turquoise in them.

  “Just for a minute,” he says.

  He must feel my resolve slip away.

  I sit on the edge of the chair beside his and hug my towel close. I look stiffly ahead.

  He relaxes back, puts his hands behind his head and even with my back to him, I can feel him watching me.

  “I was there when he found you, you know.”

  I glance back at him. “I know.”

  “You were pretty out of it.”

  “I saw you there.” I remember that clearly. I don’t know why. “Where was it?” I ask, realizing I don’t know. I never asked.

  “In our building, the one where you met Joseph Gallo, the prick.” His face hardens a little at the mention of the attorney’s name and it makes me curious.

  “But I was there. It’s beautiful.”

  “Above ground, yes. The room where she kept you has been flooded too many times and can’t even be used for storage anymore. You’re lucky, actually.”

  “Lucky? I don’t think I’m lucky.”

  “When it rains heavily, that room becomes a swimming pool.”

  I meet his eyes, which are serious. “She knew that?”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Could I have drowned?” I shudder at the thought of being trapped as the water fills up.

  “It’s only flooded that badly twice.”

  Still. Once is all I’d need.

  “I don’t understand your relationships. I mean, she’s your mother.”

  He looks off in the distance momentarily. When he turns back to me, he’s still unreadable.

  “Motherhood wasn’t ever anything but an obligation to Lucinda. She gave my father sons, as was required of her. That’s all.”

  “But Ethan, she loves him.”

  “Don’t mistake control with love,” he says, looking at me again. “Ethan is easily manipulated.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “That’s a story for Sebastian to tell.”

  I remember how afraid of Sebastian Ethan was. How he wouldn’t touch me even at the risk of his mother’s wrath.

  “Did Sebastian hurt him?” I ask.

  Gregory studies me. “You’re a curious thing, Willow Girl,” he says, rising to his feet.

  “Did he?” I rise too. “Or is this some game, Gregory?”

  He stops, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever said his name.

  “A manipulation?” I add.

  He turns back to me, takes a step toward me. I lean away, look down, work on wrapping the towel around me.

  “A manipulation?” he asks.

  When I finally shift my gaze back to his, his head is cocked to the side, eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

  I shrug a shoulder, clear my throat and step around him, but when I do, he captures my arm.

  “Answer me, Willow Girl.”

  “I’m not your Willow Girl. I don’t have to do as you say.”

  I wonder if that burns.

  I want to hurt him. I don’t know why, but I do.

  He squeezes.

  I guess he wants to hurt me too. I try to hide the fact that he does, but he sees it and smirks.

  “Answer me, Willow Girl.”

  “You’re your mother’s son.”

  “I am that,” he says casually. “But you don’t know me. And you don’t know my brother. Not like you think.”

  He releases me then and it’s not me who walks away but him while a cold chill runs along my spine.

  Gregory stays out of sight for the rest of the afternoon. I have a shower and get dressed, make my way downstairs—because I refuse to hide in my room—and walk around the island, keeping to the parts I’m allowed, until I get hungry.

  I go to the kitchen to find some food and again, find it empty. For the first time since I’ve been here, I make my own sandwich, and eat at the small table in the kitchen. When I’m finished, I wash my dish and am going up to my room when I notice Sebastian’s study door is ajar.

  I smile, relieved not to have to be here alone with his brother any longer, and head to it, but when I push it open, it’s empty.

  Was he here? Is he back? He would have looked for me, I’m sure of it. Besides, Gregory said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Even if I don’t like him, he has no reason to lie about that.

  I go inside and close the door behind me. I can smell Sebastian in here, his aftershave just lingering on the leather and wood.

&
nbsp; There isn’t a phone on top of his desk and I wonder if there’s a land line here at all or if they only use their cell phones. His desk is cleaned off apart from a laptop and a stack of papers held in place by a creepy, skull-shaped paperweight on the corner.

  After glancing at the door, I open the lid of the laptop. I know it’s stupid, I’m sure I’ll need a password to access it, and I do. I don’t bother trying to guess it, but close it instead, leaning back in the seat, stretching my legs, trying not to look at the hollowed-out eyes of the skull that seem to watch me.

  My knee bumps against something rough and I pull it back. I reach under the desk, leaning down to see what it is.

  Although it’s dark, I can see a makeshift shelf. There’s something on it and I reach in, my fingers touching cool, smooth metal. It takes me a minute to realize what it is, takes me until my hand is wrapped around the barrel of it to know.

  With a gasp, I pull away, rolling the seat backward a little. I look up at the door again, take a calming breath in.

  Why does he have a gun? Why does he need a gun?

  I reach under again, and force myself to take hold of it, to pull it out. I set it on my lap. I’ve only ever seen guns on TV. It’s strange to see it like this, to feel the weight of it on my lap. To know the damage it can do.

  I put it back in its hiding place, unnerved by my discovery, and get up. I don’t want to be in here anymore. I walk back out and close the door behind me, and I head back to my room and stay there until nine at night, when hunger and boredom draw me out.

  The scent of wood burning comes from the patio and I see the back of Gregory’s head. He’s sitting alone watching the fire crackle as he sips his drink. There’s an empty chair beside his.

  I walk quietly into the kitchen and make myself my second sandwich of the day. I plan to take it back up to my room but when I go into the living room, he calls my name.

  “Helena.”

  He doesn’t turn around, but he must have heard me, as quiet as I was trying to be.

  I consider ignoring him and rushing back upstairs, but I can’t spend the next few years of my life in my room. I’ll have to learn how to be with him. And so, I go outside and take the seat beside his. I put my plate on my lap and pick up my sandwich of cheese and lettuce, boring but what I like, and take a crunchy bite. I chew while studying the fire.

  Gregory gets up, gets a second glass and pours me a whiskey.

  I take another bite.

  “Just you and me on the island, Helena,” he says.

  I glance over at him, swallow my mouthful.

  “Does that scare you?” he asks.

  “Should it?”

  He shrugs a shoulder, takes a sip from his whiskey and turns back to the fire. “Everyone gets off the island today.”

  “Why? What’s today? And why are you here?”

  “Well, I’m here because you’re here, and because today is Sebastian’s birthday.”

  “His birthday?” I don’t even know what month it is, my time is broken into days, mornings, afternoons, evenings and nights.

  Gregory nods, turns to me, looks at my sandwich. “Looks delicious,” he says sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

  “It is.” I take a huge bite and crunch the lettuce and process what it is about this day that’s so important.

  It’s the day his mother committed suicide.

  I wonder if she chose the day on purpose. I can’t imagine it was to hurt Sebastian. My guess is she was mourning her lost son.

  “Why don’t you eat meat?” Gregory asks.

  “Had a pet lamb once.”

  “Ah.” He smiles, and it’s a genuine one. “Mommy dearest make you eat her?”

  My smile vanishes, and I think I might choke on the bite in my mouth.

  “Huh. I’m right,” he says.

  The fire crackles and a log rolls off the carefully stacked triangle. He reaches for the poker and shoves it back into the flames.

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “Just a guess, considering.”

  “Considering what?”

  “Considering it’s up to the women of the Willow family to give up their own daughters. It’s a matriarchal line.”

  He’s right.

  “I never thought about it.” I put the rest of my sandwich down and pick up the whiskey. I take a sip. It burns but I like the feeling of it going down. “We both have a mommy dearest I guess.”

  He turns to me. “If it’s you, will you do it? Put your daughters on those blocks?”

  I study him and I think this is the first time I’m seeing the genuine man behind the arrogant, asshole façade.

  “If it were you, would you have done it? Taken one of us?” I counter his question.

  He glances away, takes a minute before turning back to me to answer. “I don’t know. Yes. Probably.”

  “No. I wouldn’t,” I say without a single doubt.

  “Not even if it came down to that or losing everything? Your family would be wiped out.”

  “Financially. Wiped out financially.”

  “For sure, but think about it. Say it were Ethan. Say he were first born. If your mother refused, do you think Lucinda would stand back and let it be? Not make the payment, take back the Willow house and que sera sera?” He leans in toward me. “Or do you think she’d be more vicious than that?”

  I shudder at the thought.

  “I won’t do it to my daughters.”

  If I even have any.

  I shove that thought away.

  “I guess we’ll see when the time comes,” he says, leaning back in his chair and shifting his gaze back to the fire.

  “Why do you stay here? I mean, here you’re in the shadow of your brothers. You’re young, educated I think?”

  He nods, eyes still on the fire.

  “You have money. Why don’t you leave. Do something. Anything. Do what you want.”

  He turns to me. “How do you know this isn’t what I want?”

  “You mean taking your turn with an unwilling Willow Girl?”

  “I’m not sure she’s so unwilling.”

  I swallow, feel something in my belly, something unsettling.

  And when he next speaks, his voice carries a tone of triumph.

  “There’s something heady about owning a person, Helena. Someone like you.”

  I search his eyes, try to understand him. He’s more straightforward than I expect. But I know he likes to fuck with me too and I know it’s easy for him.

  “I watch you,” he continues. “Watch you with him. Watch your face. I see how you look at my brother even as he is your jailer. I watch how he keeps you, too,” he pauses, takes a breath in, eyes never leaving mine. “And you know what? I want it too.”

  I shudder at his words and I don’t know what to say. Don’t know if I should get up and run and lock myself in Sebastian’s room. Don’t know if I should tell him he’s sick. Because I don’t think he’s just fucking with me, not right now.

  “Are you jealous of your brother?”

  He shakes his head. “Not jealous. I don’t begrudge him. I just want a piece of it.”

  My mind wanders to Alexa 2.0 and Sebastian’s birthday cake analogy.

  “Like birthday cake?” I don’t know why I say it.

  Gregory smiles wide. “If only it were as simple as birthday cake, Helena.”

  He finishes his drink and gets up.

  “The fire will die out on its own. Sit as long as you like. I’m going upstairs.”

  He doesn’t wait for me to say anything and I’m not sure what I would say. What I want to say. Not many people are honest like that. And I’m surprised at myself when I’m left wanting more.

  8

  Helena

  Ever since those days in that dark room, when I sleep alone, I sleep with the lights on. And I don’t sleep well. It’s like I wake up every hour or so to make sure I’m not back in that place.

  When I’m in Sebastian’s bed, it’s a little e
asier, but not the same as being in his arms.

  “Helena.”

  I stir.

  “Helena, wake up.”

  Someone’s shaking me.

  “Wake up.”

  I blink my eyes open, squint against the light.

  It’s Gregory.

  He’s standing over the bed.

  “What is it?” I sit up, look down to pull the blanket up over the T-shirt I’m wearing. Sebastian’s shirt. “What time is it?”

  “Four A.M.”

  I rub my face, look past him to the windows but the curtains are drawn, and I can’t see out.

  “We need to go.”

  “What? Where?”

  “It’s Sebastian.”

  I’m suddenly alert. “What’s happened?”

  “He’s in bad shape. I don’t want to leave you alone on the island. I promised I wouldn’t.”

  “Promised?”

  “Promised my brother. Get dressed. Hurry.”

  He pushes the covers off, eyes falling to the shirt I’m wearing, to my bare legs.

  I remember when he put his shirt on me that time. I remember what Sebastian said. That he didn’t want his brother’s scent on me.

  I get to my feet, stumble to my room and put on a pair of jeans and sweater that are still slung over the arm of the chaise. I brush my teeth quickly and pull a brush through my hair and when I’m done, Gregory is waiting for me impatiently at the door.

  He lets me exit first and we head down the stairs. Once we’re outside, I practically have to jog to keep up with his long, urgent strides.

  When he leads me to the boat, I stop, remembering the last time.

  I look up at him and he must see what I’m thinking.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Helena. The alternative is staying here alone. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “One of the casinos. He takes a room there, gambles, drinks. Gallo happened to be there. He just called me, thinks it’s a good idea to go get him.

  “Joseph Gallo?”

  He nods. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you more on the way. I don’t want to leave my brother there like that.”

  I let him help me on the boat and a moment later, we’re speeding ahead and I’m hugging my arms around myself. At our speed, the air is icy on the water.