the Devil and the Sea

45| Power struggle

Vincent's question puts me in a stupor.

I feel bad for Ricky because I don't love him because otherwise I wouldn't do this to him. There's just one "but" that gets in the way of everything - I don't want to hurt Ricky. Panic sets in my heart when I imagine Ricky's face, when I him we're done. I want to save him from the consequences. I want to break up with him, but I want to keep the damage to a minimum. I don't want him to suffer because of my actions, he doesn't deserve it.

Vincent looks down, I see that he has clenched his fists.

"Good. So be it." I notice a change in his eyes, and this change does not bode well. "I'll go call my girlfriend: I'd rather be with someone who cares about me than with someone who plays stupid mind tricks on me." Am I hearing a lame attempt to cause jealousy?

"Oh, yes? Now you're going to tell me she's beautiful, but are you here with me instead? Come on, tell me more!" I'm trying to hold back the fake laughter that's provoked by a defensive reaction to the pain he caused.

"Vic: open your fucking eyes. I'm with you because I'm stuck here this damn summer and I can't be with her in London, that's all. But I talk to her on the phone for hours every day and can't wait to get home." I hear his beautiful voice and swallow a good bunch of sharp nails.

Vincent is acting weird. This afternoon he called me to London with him saying he didn't have a girlfriend. And now he's setting up a scene like this. This is ridiculous. He looks more like me than I thought. He is the same as me. Complete son of a bitch.

"Then why wait? Call her, come on, call her now. I want to hear your passion." I emphasize the last word, mocking him. But deep down, these words taste like poison. I can't accept the fact that Vincent is with me and deep down he thinks about her. When we kiss. When we touch each other.

She owns Vincent's mind and I don't?

Can't be.

It's not.

It's just impossible.

He is playing with me again.

I wave my hand dismissively, as if I don't care, and I feel light rain on my skin.

Holding my breath, I watch Vincent walk towards his sportbike. And as he moves closer, I watch excitedly, not believing that he can really leave. But turning around and leaning his ass against the sportbike, Vincent crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me.

I feel relieved and take a step towards him.

"And what are you waiting for?" I can't hide my cheeky grin.

"I like it when she has phone sex with me. Yes, that's what I'll do when I get home. Would you like to come and listen? Her voice is so passionate... She could teach you a thing or two." His British English sounds derisive. His smile betrays a sense of cruelty: Vincent now looks like a wild wolf, holding his prey tightly with sharp fangs. And he doesn't want to let her go.

This prey is me. Damn it, how could he turn things around like that?

My smile vanishes: his voice, which usually caresses my ears, now stings more painfully than the bite of the most poisonous creature. My legs are shaking. This is a low blow. I really hate him. Everything he says now is completely inconsistent with what he said in our first meeting.

When does he lie? When does he play? When is he serious? Damn it, I never figured it out. It was like I was facing myself.

Lightning splits the sky so brightly that it blinds my eyes, and four seconds later I am deafened by a clap of thunder.