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Shit that was close. I didn’t hear him come in. I hope he didn’t realise I had my bikini strap undone. I fumble with the string, struggling to tie a knot as Slater swims. I manage to loosely fix it and then wriggle onto my back just in time, as he surfaces. I take a deep a breath and try to look casual.
He sweeps his wet hair off his face and wipes away the water. Beads glisten on the curve of his biceps and butterflies gather in my stomach. I want to reach for my T-shirt. Sitting here in a bikini in front of Slater makes me self-conscious. I’m glad Maria isn’t home, I’m sure she wouldn’t approve either. Part of me does find it kind of exciting, though, dangerous even, being so close to him in so few clothes.
He stops to take a breath at the shallow end and rests his elbows on the edge of the pool.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ he says.
‘What?’
‘You didn’t tell me what book you’re reading. Anything I’ll have heard of?’
‘Oh, probably not.’ I look at the cover. ‘It’s Anna Karenina. It’s Russian.’
It’s one of my favourites, I’ve probably read it ten times, but I’m sure he won’t have heard of it. I put it down.
‘Where were you before?’ I ask him.
‘I had a business meeting.’
‘At your gym?’
‘Nearby.’
‘What sort of meeting was it?’
He lifts himself effortlessly out of the water and sits on the edge.
‘Do you discuss business with your father?’
‘No.’
He smiles. ‘Well then.’
‘You’re not my father.’
‘No, but we won’t discuss my business either.’
‘Is it illegal?’ I examine my nails. The thought that he might be doing something illegal disappoints me, although it doesn’t surprise me. I know Papa’s got his hand in all sorts of stuff. His club is just a front for drugs. Ever since I was small, Papa was rarely around. He was always at that club. Mama looked after me, until she was killed. I know her death was something to do with my father. Someone he’d upset, trying to get even. I don’t know exactly, but I know I hated him for a long time after. I hated him and everything about him. I hated that I depend on him and his dirty money to live, that he had allowed crime to infiltrate and ruin my life.
Everything changed the day Mama died. I was fifteen. That was when Papa stopped me going to school. He got me a tutor and started my home schooling. I wasn’t allowed to see my friends or teachers any more or to go anywhere. I became full of hate those first years. I hated that Mama was dead and mostly I hated Papa. But he was all I had so, in spite of my hate, I loved him. I know that sounds weird, that I hated and loved him at the same time. He’s my papa, but he was to blame for the death of Mama. My head was truly messed up.
It got easier when we moved from the coast to Rotterdam, to this house. I had my space, the pool, and there weren’t the reminders of my mother everywhere I looked. I still wasn’t allowed to go out. It was only when I started university that I was allowed out to lectures, although never alone. I am driven there and back by Juan Carlos, who waits for me outside the university.
Things with Papa got easier, then, too. Until he told me about his plans for me to marry Joaquin Gonzales. Papa says he will look after me, take care of me. I just think Papa wants to get rid of me. I told him there was no way I was marrying Joaquin, but he says I don’t have a choice.
Joaquin is Papa’s friend Salvador’s son. Papa and Salvador left Spain together to work in the Netherlands, but Salvador died of a heart attack years ago when I was small. The wedding would have happened after my twenty-first birthday, that was his plan, but he finally backed down and agreed to delay it until I graduated. So, I’m on the clock. I’ve got until I graduate to get far away from here.
Slater answers my question.
‘I told you, I run fight clubs. We help kids like you learn how to defend themselves.’ He gets up, takes a towel and rubs the water off his body.
‘I’m not a kid.’
He pulls the spare sunlounger next to mine and sits down beside me.
‘Tell that to your old man.’
Anger boils inside me. ‘I’m an adult. I’m twenty-two. He’s not going to keep me locked up here all my life and there’s no way I’m marrying Joaquin Gonzales. I’m going to get away from here as soon as I can.’
‘It’s not exactly safe for you to go running around on your own, Dale. Your dad is well known, he has enemies. There are people out there much worse than that would-be rapist from last night.’
‘I’ll learn to take care of myself. You said you’d teach me how to fight, right?’
He looks at me, eyes covered by dark sunglasses, and for a moment doesn’t speak. I wonder if I’ve told him too much. What if he tells my father what I’m planning?
‘I can’t teach you how to stop a bullet,’ he says, eventually.
‘I’ll get a gun myself. You can teach me how to use it.’
He snorts a laugh. ‘I’m sure your father will thank me for giving you shooting lessons.’
‘Why not? If it keeps me safe.’
‘Dale, guns are dangerous.’
‘I know that. I’m not stupid.’
‘You don’t want to be messing with that sort of thing.’
‘I want to be able to look after myself. I don’t want a bodyguard following me my whole life.’
‘I’m not a bodyguard.’ He lies back on the sunlounger, folding his arms behind his head, the hard ropes of his muscles contracting and exposing soft hairs in his armpits. My gaze is drawn to the tattoos decorating his skin. I long to trace my fingers over them, study them and... I force myself to look away.
‘No, and you won’t be following me my whole life, either,’ I mutter.
He looks up at me and grins. ‘Not unless you want me to.’
Butterflies dance in my stomach. His gaze holds mine; his eyes are so enticing, so dangerous.
‘I’m sure Papa would be over the moon about that,’ I whisper, and I actually wonder what Papa would say if something did happen between us. Slater doesn’t look like the sort of man who could be stopped from doing what he wanted, and if that was something he wanted...
‘Yeah, so, it’s not going to happen. Last thing I need is a battle with your ol’ man. I’ve enough on my plate, right now.’ He rolls onto his stomach and turns his head, indicating the conversation is over.