Continuing to scroll down the pages of images, I stop at a photograph of him dressed in an immaculately-cut black suit and tie, his hair pushed back off his face and just the tiniest hint of stubble covering his perfect jaw line. He isn’t alone, in this photograph. He has his arm around the waist of a woman just as beautiful as he is, and he looks happy. So does she. And this photograph doesn’t look like it was taken all that long ago, judging by his appearance, those distinct lines I noticed at the corners of his eyes when he smiles are very much present in this image, this is a recent one. So, who is she? His wife? Girlfriend? Maybe she’s just a work colleague. A friend. Relative. Why do I care? Is he married? He doesn’t wear a ring, but that means nothing. He never said anything, but why would he? It’s difficult to believe anything he tells me, anyway. Truth and lies are so closely interwoven now.
I back out of the search and throw my phone into my bag, hugging my knees to my chest as I stare out at the sea. The dunes are shielding me from the breeze and it’s nice, just sitting here. But now I can’t get that image of Joe and that woman out of my head. It’s almost like it’s taunting me, making me miss him and want him, and I do, miss him. I do, want him, and I drop my head and wish I didn’t.
“It focuses the mind sometimes, doesn’t it? Sea air.”
My eyes snap open and my head spins around, my heart almost leaping up into my throat as his voice pierces the silence.
I try to get up, but he shakes his head, lowers himself down onto the sand beside me, mirroring my stance as he draws his legs to his chest, clasping his hands around his knees.
“You’re not surprised to see me, are you?”
He turns his head to look at me, and I realise he’s right. I’m not. I should be, because his actions seem like he’s stalking me, or having me followed, how else does he know exactly where I’ll be? He knew I was at the harbour, in Bergen. And now he’s found me here. That isn’t coincidence, and that should worry me, but it doesn’t. In fact, it feels oddly comforting, in a warped, twisted kind of way. He hasn’t let me go, even when I asked him to, because he knew I didn’t mean it …?
“You’re still in Norway, without Noah?”
“You seem to know a lot about me, and my situation, so I’m surprised that you feel the need to ask that.”
My heart’s beating hard and loud, I’m slightly scared yet strangely glad he’s here. But I should be angry. I’m leaving Norway soon, and him turning up like this … it was always going to happen. Always. And I feel my shoulders slump at that realisation. I can’t leave. It’s like he has me trapped, won’t let me go, no matter how hard I try to run.
Have I tried to run?
Not very hard …
“I’m leaving. Soon.”
I have to stay strong. I have to stick to my guns and do what I planned to do, I need to leave. I need to run. I need to try harder …
“It doesn’t matter where you go, Kari, I’ll still be there. You won’t get rid of me.”
I look at him, even though he’s still staring out ahead, he isn’t looking at me. “You scare me, so much,” I whisper, because he does. What he said just there, that scares me. He won’t leave me alone, and he means that. I really think he means that.
He turns his head slowly to face me, and I feel every part of my already fragile world shift a little more, become a little more unstable.
“I don’t want you to be scared, Kari. I told you, remember? I’m the one who should be scared.”
“You’re the one in control, not me, you have no reason to be scared.”
He briefly drops his gaze, but I don’t shift mine. I keep my eyes on him, and I remember Noah’s words: “Fuck him out of your system …”
I can’t.
I can’t do it …
… but I’m going to. I know I am.
I might be scared, but the fear means nothing, because I believe he won’t hurt me. He scares me, yes, but I know he won’t hurt me.
“I’m only doing what I have to do, Kari.” He looks at me, and I feel a silent scream start to rise from the pit of my stomach, because I know.
I know …
“And all of this, what I’m doing, it might seem weird, and it might seem crazy, and you might think I’m this dangerous mad man who’s stalking you from country to country, but all I’m doing is what I have to do. Because I want you.”
“It’s all a bit extreme.”
“It is. You’re right. But what I’m feeling …” He drops his head again, shakes it slightly, and I watch as his fingers clasp together that little bit tighter, a reflex action I don’t think he realises is happening. And I wait for him to finish that sentence, but he doesn’t. He leaves it hanging, and I shift my focus back out to sea. It’s a quiet day, a calm day, the light breeze isn’t enough to whip up any significant waves but even though it’s warm and sunny, the beach remains almost deserted. And sitting here, amongst the dunes, it feels like we’re the only two people around, or is that just how I’m seeing this? How I want this to be?
“Noah told me to go to you.”
I’m not looking at him, but I know he’s looking at me. I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my neck.
“He told me to fuck you out of my system.”
I finally meet his gaze, but his expression is almost impassive.
“He told me to do that, he gave me permission to sleep with you. Can you believe that? My own husband told me to sleep with you. Because he thinks you’re a phase, something I need to purge myself of before I can move forward. Before we can finally start fixing our marriage …”
“You’re still planning on going back to him?”
“He’s my husband, Joe. I love him.”
He leaves a beat or two before he speaks again. “Do you need to fuck me out of your system?”
I wish I didn’t. Maybe I don’t. But he’s sitting this close to me and all I know is my heart’s beating faster and my stomach’s leaping about, I feel like a lovesick teenager, and when I look at him I’m a mess.
“I don’t know.”
“Am I just a phase?”
“I don’t know what you are. I just know that this – what Noah wants me to do, it’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong.”
“Everything we’ve done is wrong. Why change things now?”
I pull my phone back out of my bag and search for the image of him with that woman, the one I’d found just a few minutes earlier.
“Who’s she?” I ask him, showing him the screen.
He takes the phone from me, and for a brief second his expression changes, just the tiniest flicker, but I saw it. “A friend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“A friend,” he repeats, handing the phone back to me. “I have lots of friends, Kari. Many of them are women.”
“That night, in the bar. The night before the party … the woman you were with, was she just a friend, too?”
“She was.”
I look back down at my phone.
“You look happy, in this photo. You both do.”
“It was a good night.”
I narrow my eyes, I’m trying to read his face but he’s giving me nothing, and maybe there’s nothing to give, I don’t know. I guess I’m still a little wary of him. “How many of your female friends do you sleep with?”
That just came out, I really hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it’s none of my business anyway, who he sleeps with.
Isn’t it?
No. It isn’t.
He doesn’t answer my question, he just smiles slightly, and I look away, breaking the stare, I’m so confused by all the shit we’ve caused, my head’s all over the place. I’m overthinking things that don’t even matter, and those that do, I’m not thinking them through enough.
“My marriage could be over, Joe. Because you happened.”
“Then walk away. Go back home, try and make it work with Noah, if that’s what you really want.”
Is it, what I really want?
“You are
n’t giving me that option. You aren’t giving me that choice, you said you won’t leave me alone …”
“If you walk away now I won’t follow you. I won’t look for you, I’ll let you go, this time. I promise.”
“How can I believe you?”
“You have my word.”
“That means nothing. I still don’t trust you.”
He looks out to sea again, and for a few moments silence surrounds us.
“You’re telling me you’ve suddenly changed your mind? Just like that? After everything you’ve just said to me?”
His head snaps back around, his expression darker, as though he’s angry with me. “Just like that, Kari. If you choose to walk away, this time, I’ll let you go.”
I look at him, and I think he means it. “Okay,” I whisper, and I’m not sure what I’m feeling now. But I know what I need to do.
I pull myself to my feet, he does the same, and we look at each other. He slides his hands into his pockets, and he nods. He’s letting me go, and I turn around and start walking away, I can be free again. Free to go back to Noah and tell him we’re going to be fine. Eventually. I still think I need that time in Germany first.
I feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face as I walk further and further away from him, and I should be feeling good, right? Joe’s let me go. He’s ended whatever the hell that was, he promised me – he’s letting me go … And I want to say that it isn’t me, who’s making this decision, the one I’m making right now, in this split second. I want to scream out that my brain’s been taken over by some other worldly force that’s making me do this, but I’d be lying. It would be nothing more than an excuse because, when I turn around and run back to him, that’s all on me. I’m running like my life depends on it, like I’ll die if he doesn’t catch me, but he catches me. He scoops me up in his arms and we kiss like the world’s about to end. I wrap my legs around him, feel his body next to mine and I know this is wrong, this is wrong …
We fall to the ground and I close my eyes. The sand’s warm beneath my exposed skin and I sink my fingers into it as he leans over me; as he slowly pushes my dress up over my thighs, his lips brushing the base of my throat.
This is wrong … it’s wrong …
I arch my back as he touches me; as he kisses me, I’m lost all over again. I want him, every piece of him, I was never going to walk away. But this has nothing to do with love, this is all about sex; the way he makes me feel, and maybe I am still punishing Noah, in some way, but I can’t leave this alone. Joe’s forced me to this point, made me unable to turn my back on him, on this, until I’ve taken what I need. Given him what he wants.
I spread my legs wider, try to moan a little quieter, it might seem like we’re alone, but there’s no guarantee of that. Even with the sand dunes shielding us we still have to be careful. But the deeper he touches me, the harder his kisses become; the more of his body I feel against mine, I’m ceasing to care. I just want this. Him.
As he pulls his hand away from me I let out a small cry of frustration, and he leans into me, he smiles, he’s teasing me. Playing with me. He wants me to want him so badly that I’ll beg him to do whatever he has to do to make me come, he knows that. He’s just waiting for my permission, and I stare into his eyes, and I give it to him.
He’s inside me in a heartbeat, pushing his way in so deep and so hard it feels like he’s tearing me in two, the pain rips through my body like a lightning bolt, and I bite down on my lip to stop myself from crying out. But almost as quickly as it appeared the pain subsides, and we fall into a rhythm, bodies moving as one, this is sex. This is desperate, necessary sex but I don’t want that, I need him to fuck me. I need there to be a reason why I’ve put my entire marriage in jeopardy and sex isn’t enough. He promised to take me places I didn’t know existed, do things I’d never dreamed of doing, and I need him to keep those promises. I need him to fuck me until I can take no more, until I want no more, until I tire of him. I think Noah’s right, I do need to fuck this man out of my system. Walking away was never going to work, forgetting him wasn’t an option. This needs to happen.
His arm slides around my waist, pulling me up, he’s still inside me as I straddle him. He winds his fingers in my hair and I open my eyes, I look right into his, and the intensity is overwhelming, it’s like we’re cocooned in our own private bubble, nothing and no one can get to us here.
I want him to kiss me, it’s not enough to know he’s a part of me, I need him to kiss me, and when he does it’s like he lit a spark, started that fire burning all over again, one that can’t be extinguished, not yet, not without this. What this man is doing to me, I didn’t want it, I don’t welcome it, but it’s happening, it’s real, and I have to face up to that. And I know I’m just trying to justify this whole, sordid scenario, but what other choice do I have?
There’s always a choice …
I should go back to Noah, that’s what I should do. I should run from this so fast my breath scorches my throat.
I should run.
Run …
His eyes still burn into mine, his hand resting firmly on the back of my neck, making sure I don’t shift my gaze, don’t look away, he’s making my stomach somersault over and over again, my head’s spinning, my heart’s beating so fast I can barely breathe. His hand presses harder against my neck, he whispers to me to keep my eyes open, he wants to watch me come, and just hearing him say that … the rush of white-hot pain spreads through me with an unexpected force, every inch of my skin tingles as he explodes inside of me, and then I’m coming, too. I’m coming, and it’s beautiful, even though it feels as if every last bit of my fucked-up world is shattering around me.
He’s the first to lower his gaze, lessening the pressure of his hand on my neck as his head drops, and I close my eyes. I try to breathe.
“Come and live in my world, Kari.”
I open my eyes and I look at him, and I know I’m so far over that line now.
“See why we’d be so fucking good together, because I think you want that just as much as I do.”
He doesn’t know what I want, not really, but then again, do I?
“Come and live in my world. You want to fuck me out of your system? Do it. Take me, use me, I’m telling you it’s okay to do that.”
I drop my hands, slide them up under his shirt. His skin is warm, his muscles taut beneath it, and I feel a shiver race up my spine as he kisses me again.
“Come and live in my world,” he whispers, and I nod. Because I think I want to. I think I have to. The world I know – the world I was used to, it doesn’t feel like one I know anymore. His world might be different.
It might be.
I have nothing left to lose …
Twenty-Two
I want her, so much I fucking ache for her, and I never thought I’d feel that way, about anyone. I didn’t want to feel that way, I liked feeling numb. Emotionless. Feeling that way got me where I am today, it’s what made me successful. Powerful. Focused. But Kari, she’s altered everything, fucked it all up, and I’m not sorry that she did that. She’s made the pain go away, I’m much more at ease now. I’m calmer. I’m okay about everything that happened because I have her. And she might think she’s fucking me out of her system, that a couple of weeks in my world will make her realise how much she still loves Noah, but she’s going to find out that she’s wrong. Those feelings will die, the longer she’s with me.
She’ll never fuck me out of her system, I won’t let her.
I can’t, let her.
She’s a prize I’m not willing to give back now.
Kari Ostberg ...
She wants me, just as much as I want her, she just thinks it’s a temporary feeling.
She’s wrong on that score, too.
She isn’t going back to him, I won’t let her.
I can’t, let her …
*
He isn’t staying with me, I don’t want to stay with him. I don’t want things to be that personal,
I don’t want to get too close, this is just sex. An attraction so strong I can’t leave it alone. Yet. And it might be something that, in the end, destroys everything around me, but if I don’t do this I’m forever going to think, what if …? He’d be there, on my mind, all of the time, so, in reality, the risk that he is going to destroy my world was never going to go away. Never lessen. I’m stuck between right and wrong and I know I’m not dealing with it the way I should, I’m not proud of what I’m doing. But I can’t walk away, because I don’t want to.
God help me …
The taxi pulls up outside a large, glass-fronted wooden cabin in what feels like the middle of nowhere. It’s situated close to a lake, right on the edge now I look more closely, but the location – it’s beautifully secluded. For a reason.
I get out, pay the driver, and for a minute or two I just stand there, looking up at this spectacular building. I can hear music, and as I glance at the expanse of glass that makes up most of the exterior of the cabin, it appears to be dimly lit inside, too dim to see clearly what’s going on in there, but there are people dancing, drinking, at first sight it seems just like any other party, from out here. But it isn’t, like any other party.
Wicked Game Page 17
