Willing Captive (12 page)

My heart aches.

He’s a dick. A huge
dick. But I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. I want to say something
but the words just don’t come. What can you possibly say to someone
who has been tortured?

Chapter
Nine
Ch-
ch- changes

Lily

A few hours after
our close encounter, we remain silent, communicating with nothing
but nods or one word questions and equally short answers. The
waitress from the diner brought up our sandwich platter, along with
a complimentary cherry pie for us newlyweds, while I was in the
shower. We ate slowly, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Unable to stand the
awkwardness any longer, I jump up and turn on the old-ass TV.
Nothing but static. I mentally sigh. Of course there’s nothing but
static. No one accused me of being lucky. Luck of the Irish, you
ask? Nope. Not even that.

Flipping through
channels, I stop on the channel with the least amount of static and
manually try to tune it. A few minutes pass but nothing helps, so I
do what I do whenever something at home is broken.

I beat the crap out
of it.

Slapping the sides
of the TV, I urge, “C’mon, you piece of shit. Modern technology, my
ass!”

Nox chuckles and I
say sternly, “You know, you can help me at any time. Don’t be shy
now.”

Then I smack the
back of the TV. A little too hard.

It falls off the
stand and onto the floor. A loud bang resounds through the room.
Looking down in shock at the now broken TV, I lift my wide eyes to
Nox and shout, “Look at what you did!”

Then he does
something beautiful.

He
tips his head back and roars with laughter.

And all I can do is
watch in awe as his entire body shakes with hilarity while thoughts
rush through my brain.

How can a man who
has been through what he has, still be able to laugh? Maybe Nox
isn’t as damaged as I think he is. I’m an ass. I shouldn’t have
labelled him. Ask him about it.

Walking over to the
bed, I throw myself back onto it, next to his still shaking body.
Placing my arms behind my head, I sigh long and loud, “I’m so
bored.”

Nox nods but doesn’t
say a thing.

We lay next to each
other as night falls, neither of is willing to move, quite
comfortable in our finally broken silence. Feeling more confident,
I ask, “What happened?”

Obviously knowing
this was coming, he breathes in deeply and replies on an exhale,
“Got caught by the bad guy.”

This explanation is
not satisfactory. I’m nosey! I need more than that. “When?”

“
Few years back.”

I’m confused.
Turning my body to look at him, I say quietly, “But I thought you
were the best.”

Turning his head to
the side, his icy blues search my face before answering just as
softly, “It’s why I’m the best. I’ll never let that happen
again.”

Okay. I like that.
That’s a totally acceptable answer.

I nod to no one in
particular and fade into the depths of my mind.

Nox stands suddenly,
“Damn. I forgot.” Then he walks over to his pile of dirty clothes
and searches his cargo pants’ pockets. Pulling something small out,
he walks over to me, flops back onto the bed and hands me the small
silver device.

When I take a closer
look, I gasp, “No way! You had this the whole time?”

Placing his hands
back behind his head, he sighs, “Forgot. It’s Boo’s. Left it in my
office.”

Switching on the MP3
player, I place both of the earphones in and search the playlists
that Boo has. It’s a great selection. Old music, new music, punk,
rock n roll, pop, dance, metal, RnB. I reach a particular song and
burst into laughter. Nox turns his head and narrows his eyes at
me.

Taking out an
earphone, I shove it in his ear. “I think I found the song for
you.”

Pressing play,
Highway to Hell
by AC/DC plays and he smirks, nodding along to the beat of the
song. When it ends, I select the random option and
Clocks
by Coldplay
comes on.

Nox grunts, “Change
it.”

I frown. “I like
this song. It’s a nice song.”

He scoffs, “Uh,
yeah. No. Are you listening to the same song I am? Light going out,
not being able to be saved, cursing missed opportunities?”

Hmmm. I guess I
never listened closely to the lyrics before. It is kinda
depressing.

Looking over at my
crestfallen expression, he says, “See, I made my point. I’d rather
attempt to slit my throat with a rusty spoon than listen to this.
Change it.”

So
I do. The next song that comes on is
Royals
by Lorde. And I really like this song. Nox doesn’t
say a thing, but I see his foot tapping along so I guess he likes
it, too. But the subject of the song makes me uncomfortable.
Turning the sound down to a dim whisper, I speak up to the ceiling.
“We weren’t always rich, you know?”

Nox turns to his
side, supporting his head on his hand, acknowledging me and giving
me permission to continue.

I don’t dare look at
him but continue my story. “We were just like everyone else. Things
were different back then. Dad wasn’t so- so- obnoxiously
overprotective. I had friends and I had a life. Then dad started
working harder and bringing in more money, flipping companies like
they were used cars he was selling. Then one day-” I snap my
fingers. “It all changed. We bought that ugly monstrosity we call a
home. Security was upped and Dad stopped letting me hang out with
my friends. They got sick of asking me to parties ‘cause they knew
the answer would be no. So they let me go. And I don’t blame ‘em.
It’s hard dealing with my dad sometimes.”

Nox makes a small noise. A grunt. Turning to him, I see his
brows furrowed, lips pursed. He doesn’t look happy. Suddenly
feeling the need to defend my father, I quickly add, “I mean it
wasn’t
all
bad. Just lonely
sometimes. So I fell into books. And I love reading. For a few
hours, I can escape this world and fall into character. It’s a
beautiful thing. I just don’t get what happened, is
all.”

Nox’s sudden intake
of breath makes me focus on his face, which is suddenly
poker-faced. I blink a moment before I gasp and whisper, “You know
something.”

He replies a little
too firmly, “Lily, I know a lot of things.”

He forgot to add
‘doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you shit’ but it was implied.

The song flips over to Massive Attack’s
Teardrop
and we both listen in quiet while watching
each other. My eyes watch his face intently, his search mine
softly. My eyes beg, ‘please, tell me something’. His argue,
‘you’re not ready.’

Picking invisible
lint off the bed covers, I plead softly but urgently, “I’m ready.
Tell me. Please, Nox.”

Shaking his head softly, he says, “Won’t see anything the
same. Won’t see
me
the same.
Just got your trust. Don’t need to go losin’ it now.” There’s that
southern twang again.

Lying to myself, I
rush out, “It won’t change a thing. I trust you, Nox. I swear.”

Scoffing, he asks,
“What does ‘I swear’ mean to me? Nothin’.”

“
My word is my bond. If I swear to you, I’ll do what I can to
keep my promise. I know it doesn’t mean shit to you, but in my
family, it means something.” Desperate for answers, I reach over,
take his hand and link our fingers. “Please, Nox. You’re the only
one who can help me. My dad will never tell me.”

Nox squeezes my hand
but his face remains void. Such a tough nut to crack.

Anger surges through
me. “I’m almost twenty-three, Nox. I’m not a fucking child! Give me
back my life! I deserve that much, don’t you think?”

My anger must be
contagious because Nox sits up suddenly and shoots a glare at me.
My body jerks when without warning, he booms, “Having a life is
overrated. If I were your dad, I woulda done the same thing, Lily.
Is it fair on you? Fuck no, but you just don’t-”

Stopping suddenly,
he says sarcastically, “What do you want to know, princess?” He
says princess like it’s a nasty word. Seething, he continues, “You
wanna know how this isn’t the first kidnap attempt you’ve been
through? You wanna know that last time, they actually fuckin’ got
you? That your mom and dad almost lost you? What else? Oh, right!
You wanna know about how the day I came to get you was the day I
received a contract to kill you myself?”

My blood runs
cold.

What did he just
say?

Still processing the
information he just threw at me, he says softly, “Having a life is
overrated. Trust me. There’s no life to live if you’re cold and
dead. Your dad has his reasons. You gotta trust someone, Lily.” He
barks a humorless laugh and runs a hand through his short hair,
“Guess that’s not me anymore.”

Call me stupid but
what he just told me doesn’t affect me trusting him. In fact, I
think my trust in Nox just got stronger a notch. I never actually
expected him to reveal so much.

We stare at each
other a while before I whisper, “I was in trouble and you came to
get me?”

Nox looks down at
the brown shaggy carpet, nodding slowly.

Scooting across the
bed, closer to him. “Maybe just for one night we can pretend to
like each other and call a truce.” He watches me through furrowed
brows and I add a hushed, “Because I could really use a hug right
now.”

Not waiting for him
to answer, I lightly push him down on the motel bed. And Nox lets
me. His arms part a little and I fit my body between the crook of
his arm and his hard torso, rest my head on his shoulder, and let
out a relaxed sigh. Placing my hand on his chest, he pulls me
closer to him and runs his hand through my hair gently.

Thinking a million
things at once, I feel the need to let him in on one of those
thoughts. “I trust you, Nox. You won’t hurt me. I know it.” I
whisper, “I trust you.”

The hand at my hair
stills a moment before he sighs, “Maybe you shouldn’t, Lily.”

That falls on deaf
ears. I know what I feel and, after all, I’m taking his advice.

I’m going with my
gut.

***

Stretching into something firm, my eyes flutter open. I try to
turn, but it seems this bed has seatbelts.
Looking down, I see the seatbelt is actually a muscular arm
cinched around my waist. Now that I’m a little more awake, I
realize someone is breathing into my neck and wriggling closer to
me. Deeper into my butt.

When I hear Nox
whine in his sleep, my eyes widen. I ask my brain, “Is that what I
think it is?”

My drooling brain
replies, “It’s early, we have a hard-on pressed against our ass,
and a delicious man in our bed. I’m out.” Then it disconnects.

My heart races and I
swallow hard. The polite thing to do would be to get out of bed.
Now.

But I’m so darn
toasty that I just can’t find the will to do that. My brain quickly
reminds me of another great excuse to not leave his strong arms.
Nox hasn’t slept properly in an age. Not since I’ve known him. So,
scratch that. I guess the polite course of action would be to let
him sleep.

Pressed up against
me like I’m his giant teddy bear.

A smile spreads
across my face. I’ll never admit it to anyone, ever, but I like
Nox. I don’t know what it is about him. For all I know, I have
Stockholm syndrome.

My brain rolls its
eyes at me muttering, “Yeah. Whatever.”

Okay. No. I don’t
have Stockholm syndrome.

I know that part of
it is because he’s gruff, and honest, and downright mean. I suppose
you could say that I appreciate the ‘real’ in him. Lord knows my
life has been sheltered so much, it’s a wonder my skin isn’t so
pale it’s transparent.

My brain cheers
ecstatically when his arms tighten around me a moment. Then he
loosens his hold completely before standing quickly and making his
way to the bathroom.

Nuts.

The shower turns on
and I force myself out of bed. It’s no fun without him anyways.
Standing up, I stretch, wearing only a huge ass Nox tank and my
panties, which I cleaned in the bathroom sink, then rummage through
the black bag. Leaning forward, my head snaps up when the bathroom
door opens and Nox stands there wearing that tiny, skimpy towel
again. I fight the urge to sigh dreamily and ask as steadily as I
can, “Need somethin’?”

Flicking his chin
towards the black bag, he looks down at the tank I’m wearing a long
moment before he replies, “Boxers.”

Rolling up a black
pair, I throw them at him, and as soon as he catches them, he slams
the door shut.

Curious as to what
he was looking at, I turn my head to the side and look down at my
oversized makeshift pajamas.

Oh, for the love of-
Great. Just great.

Nox saw my
sideboob.

My cheeks flush. At
least he didn’t see nipple. Just pasty-white side-boob.

Side-boob won’t affect anything. What do I care? I’ve seen his
bare ass. His
mighty fine
bare ass. I wonder what it would feel like. It looks like you
could bounce a quarter off it.

As my mind wanders,
Nox opens the door and asks, “Want a shower before breakfast?”

Wanting to get out
of this confined space as quickly as possible, I spray myself with
his deodorant before throwing it to him. He sprays himself and
throws it back. I respond with, “Nah. Let’s go.”

Slipping on my now
clean workout pants, Nox stops me with the stink eye and an, “Uh,
no.”

“
Excuse me?”

Shaking his head, he
looks down at my ensemble through furrowed brows. “You’re not going
out like that, Lily. Put somethin’ else on.”