Page 75 of You Can't Hurt Me

He grabs my arm roughly and I let him guide me outside, back again down the path. I think of the last time I saw Amira, the state she was in thanks to my brother. It’s safer to conserve my energy, pick my battle carefully. He punches Eva’s date of birth into the keypad, the same one as the front door, the depth of his familiarity with Algos House slowly dawning on me.

Inside, the air is cold and musty. Floor-to-ceiling windows stare out across the river. Dusty ghost lines frame the walls where pictures hung and there are dents in the floor where a sofa used to be.

I think of Nate discovering her body here. Was it near the sofa, perhaps, or the kitchen area in the far corner? The only reminders of Eva are a few of her last remaining sculptures in the center of the room, bathed in a silvery glow.

“They’re part of her final series,” I say out loud to Tony, desperately trying to stall until Nate gets here. “Eva’s alter ego cast in glass, personifying the goddess Hedone, who embodied pleasure and delight,” I muse to myself more than him. Clearly he’s in no mood for an art lesson. I slide my fingers over the curves, imagine her hands molding the hips, the sinuous edge of the thighs.

He looks at me for a moment, his features tense, volatile. Disconcertingly I can still see my mother’s expressions play across his face, in the way he frowns, the faint raise at one edge of his mouth, his weak chin when he smiles. You can never quite predict how your parents will come back to haunt you.

Tony’s eyes cast around the empty space, a lost look in his gaze. For a moment I sense his weakness. “You know this place, don’t you, Tony? You’ve been here before? You were her patient. More than her patient by the end.”

Moments pass before he finally nods, his eyes faraway. I open my mouth to tell him about Eva’s journal but decide against it. Knowing I have that evidence to hold against him will only make him more dangerous.

He pulls out his phone. “That iPhone I gave you, the one I bought you from New York?” He flashes his screen up at me. “It’s on my iCloud, linked to my account. I can read every text, every WhatsApp. The locator app was inspired.” He grins at me, head tilted. My stomach twists, incandescent with rage but I don’t react. I can’t afford to, not yet.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I’m listening now. Tell me. What happened?”

“I loved her,” he says, simply. “I really did.”

A sentimental lilt creeps into his voice. His eyes soften and he looks at me like a small boy seeking absolution.

“At first, she told me there were rules. Transference. Countertransference. Meaningless terms really. She was desperate to leave Nate but when she found out she was pregnant, everything changed. She wanted to cool the whole thing down...get rid of it, keep it all a secret. She was really scared of how Nate would react if he found out, how furious he’d be that she didn’t want to have it.”

And then I see it, the blade of a knife in his hand, his knuckles white as he grips it. With a sickening lurch I realize he must have spotted it waiting to be packed away.

“We need to show him, Anna. Treating you like trash, Eva too. If it weren’t for him, if it weren’t for how badly he treated her, Eva would still be alive. We’d be together.”

I have to let Nate know he’s here, I need to warn him, tell him to call the police.

“Tony, please. We’ll both leave now. I’ll come with you. I’ll do anything—” Slowly I reach for my phone in my jacket pocket. There’s a thrum of alarm in my chest. Too late. Everything happens so quickly. He’s behind me and I register a bolt of white-hot pain as he twists my arm up and behind my back.

My phone skitters to the floor. I shriek and his grip tightens. I twist my head to one side, see the gleam of metal still there. My body slackens in pain. He pushes me hard against the wall as I gasp for breath. I feel him stroke the knife down the side of my neck.

“How do you always manage to do this?” He sighs theatrically. “I’m not sure you really fully appreciate what I’ve done for you down the years. Keeping your secret for so long. Cleaning up your messes for you.”

“No, Tony. Please,” I stammer through tears. He leans in closer to me, resting the blade on my cheek.

“You think I wasn’t good enough for Eva, don’t you?”

“Tony, that’s not what I think. You two were in love. I believe you.”

I glance toward the open door, the path back to the house. But Tony stands in front of me, blocking any hope of escape.

“You still think he’s coming! One fuck and it’s true love,” he sneers into my ear. I watch him, trying to gauge the volatile cocktail of emotions passing across his face—anger, jealousy, desperation—to protect himself. To survive at all costs. That’s all he cares about right now.

He catches me glance at the phone on the floor and as he does, swipes the knife at my cheek. I wince, feel a wetness on my skin.

“You’re right,” I pant. “I was gullible, stupid, arrogant, probably, to assume it would work out. I wish I’d listened to you. I’m on your side, Tony. We can show him. You and me together?”

For the longest moment he looks at me, wavering. A muscle in his eye flickers like a small bug trapped under his skin.

“Tell me more about you and Eva,” I say, softly, hoping to stall him. “Why was she so special?”

He reflects for a moment. “She was the only person who never judged me. She was genuinely moved by my pain, my story. Maybe it took someone as amoral as Eva to understand me. In the end I told her everything about my life, about what really happened that night.”

I look away.

“She was scared of him, Anna, that’s why she ended it with me. She told me he was capable of anything. You know why he wanted a baby, don’t you?”

---