The hatchet?
He points to another black box, but this one has a red D on the edge, which must stand for defense. It’s right next to the box with the parachute inside.
He gives me a long stare. “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the weapon.”
I shake my head.
“Thought not,” he says.
He then shows me a staircase tucked between the living room and the corridor. I missed it because of a half-full bookcase that partially blocks the view.
“What’s upstairs?” I ask.
“Two rooms and the pool. Let me show you.” We walk up the stairs together. He points to the farthest door. “That room is off-limits.”
“Another office-slash-armory?” I ask, although the door doesn’t have a fancy super-lock like the one downstairs.
“No. It’s Lyosha’s room. He complains when people go into it.”
“Who’s Lyosha?” I haven’t seen any sign of another person living here. Tolyan also hasn’t invited this person to dinner or breakfast. Hopefully, Lyosha isn’t a hostage who’s held inside naked.
“My son.”
“Your son?” I suppose it isn’t totally unrealistic that he has a kid, but there isn’t a photo or anything anywhere in this home. My parents had my photos and soccer trophies and so on in their home. Nobody would have assumed they were childless if they visited.
Tolyan nods, his expression flat.
“So…where is he?” Shouldn’t the child be with him? Or is he having a sleepover? Or maybe staying with his mom?
“Berkeley. He’s a freshman.”
“Your son’s in college?” I stare at Tolyan, studying his face closely. There are a few faint lines in the corners of his eyes and some across his forehead, but nothing that makes him look old enough to have a kid in college.
“How old are you?” I blurt out, then slap my hands over my mouth at the rude question. Why and when did my filter quit on me?
Tolyan’s eyebrows pinch together slightly. Oh shit, he’s annoyed. And for a good reason, too.
“Sorry.” The words are muffled against my hands. I drop them. “Sorry,” I say again. “You don’t have to answer. Actually, you shouldn’t answer. That was a rude que—”
“Forty,” he says.
I lower my hands a little. “Forty? Really?” The second the words leave, I know my filter’s still malfunctioning. I should just keep my mouth shut.
The frown on his face grows more serious. “Do I look that old?”
“No! No, no, no. I just didn’t realize you were that old.”
He raises an eyebrow.
Oh crap. “I mean, you look really young!”
The eyebrow stays elevated.
My whole body’s flaming, and my brain is working hard to find something to say to make the situation better. I blurt out the first thing that sounds okay in my head. “Young, like you’re in your late twenties.”
The eyebrow rises higher.
Okay, now that I said it out loud, it does sound a bit much. There’s no way he can pass for twenty-something, even if it’s a late twenty-something. “Or, you know, in your early thirties or, uh, something like that.”
A corner of his mouth twitches.
Is that an “I’m so mad my muscles are twitching” thing? If so, I’m totally screwed. More things I could say to fix the situation pop into my head, but I clench my teeth together. You’ve hit the bottom already. No need to bring out the jackhammer!
Finally, Tolyan lets out a soft laugh. “You’re a funny little fawn.”
Funny is good, I’m pretty sure. His gray-blue eyes glimmer with humor.
The knots inside me relax. I exhale softly. “Well, uh, I’m glad. Do you want to know how old I am?”
“No. It would be rude for me to say yes, and frankly, I’m not interested.”
He’s being a gentleman, but a small part of me is unhappy that he isn’t showing any curiosity, not even a little. It’s like he has no desire to get to know me.
Come on, Angelika. This isn’t really a “get to know you” situation.
Maybe he’s one of those people who likes to discover stuff about others organically, without the other person vomiting everything about themselves out in one shot.
Tolyan opens the door next to Lyosha’s room. “This is the home gym.”
We step inside. It’s equipped with a treadmill, weights and a large, empty area for stretching and other activities. The floor-to-ceiling window faces a deck outside, which has a pool.
“Use it anytime you want,” Tolyan says. “Actually, it might be safer for you to run here than outside, at least until I can sort Roy out.” His tone makes it sound like Roy isn’t a person, but a problem that requires expedient handling. Which is true, since he is the biggest issue in my life.
“Okay,” I say, since jogging is about keeping fit enough to make my escape if Roy ever comes after me. It doesn’t matter where I get my exercise. And there won’t be any flasher pervs here, which is a definite plus.
Tolyan takes me out onto the deck. The pool is sizable, almost like one for the Olympics. The deck is wood and has a few sunbeds for lounging, plus there’s a large area covered with Astroturf. The farthest corner has a sandbox, which reminds me of a giant cat litter box.
“Do you have a cat?” I ask, looking around. Although I haven’t seen any signs, Tolyan or his son might have one, one that the Dobermans were trained to get along with.
He shoots me an unreadable look. “If I wanted an untrainable, disdainful animal with an attitude problem, I would’ve gotten myself another teenager.”
I laugh. Okay, no cat for Tolyan. “So what’s the sandbox for?”
“The dogs. They’ve been trained to take care of their bodily functions there only. I can’t have them dirtying the entire area at will. It’s unsanitary, and I’m not hiring someone to enter my home regularly to pick up after them.”
Makes sense. Given how paranoid he is about security, he wouldn’t want somebody having a regular access to his home. I look around the deck, then squint at the sky.
“You know… Somebody could skydive into this area and then break in. Which means they’re bypassing all the fancy security you showed me earlier,” I say, half teasing. I don’t really think anybody would be crazy enough to parachute in just to break and enter his home, but it’s interesting he isn’t talking about some super-duper security feature up here.
Tolyan nods, his expression too serious. “Don’t worry. This area’s booby-trapped also.”
Should’ve expected that. He’s exacting about safety—which, given my situation, is great. “But your dogs come up here. What if they get hurt?”
“Obviously, the security measures are only for intruders. It isn’t that difficult to rig something for uninvited guests.” He gestures behind himself at the small, circular decorative patterns on the edge of the built-in shades and walls. “Don’t worry about your safety. Besides, your stepbrother doesn’t have the balls to land here.”
Tolyan’s tone says he’d love nothing more than to have Roy show up, but my mouth still dries a little. The idea of Roy getting close always makes me clench up. But my heart isn’t pounding ten thousand beats a minute like it normally would. It’s like some instinct knows that Tolyan isn’t someone Roy can easily go through to get to me.