Willing Captive (4 page)

With the windows still covered, I’m suddenly grateful for the
dark. My eyes sting and my chest aches. I just want to know they’re
okay. That’s all. I shut them tight but tears leak out of the sides
of my eyes. I steady my breathing as much as possible, but out of
nowhere, my breath hitches loudly and I know he knows I’m crying.
And that sucks. I don’t want to be
that
girl. You know, the whiney, pissy cry-baby. That’s
not normally me. Okay, these are extenuating circumstances, but I
still don’t feel good about it.

This Nox guy isn’t
doing a thing to make me believe that he’s protecting me, and I was
so hoping it was true. When you face bad circumstances, you want to
believe you’re going to get the best possible outcome. And that’s
what I was wishing for. But I can’t trust this guy. Why else would
he keep something as simple as my family’s safety a secret?

Maybe the guy’s just
an asshole?

He
is
an asshole! No maybes
about it. This is all too bizarre.

After my breath hitches a second time, Nox sighs. Shuffling
closer to me, he tilts his head to the side, closer to mine and
whispers, “Your mom and dad are fine. Your sister is fine. We’ve
separated you for a good reason. They’re safe, okay?”

Unable to look at
him, I nod into the covered window. It’s funny how a few simple
words can alter your mindset. I’m feeling unexpectedly stronger all
of a sudden. I read a lot, so I know that words hold power. They
can bring you from the lowest low to an ultimate high in a matter
of moments, and just the opposite, too. I’m thankful for Nox’s
reassuring words. I force my tears down and remind myself that
everything will be okay if I just go along with what they want. I
mentally chastise myself. No more tears. I’m tougher than that.

I
wonder how much longer it’ll take to get
home
.

***

The van stops
abruptly. No one speaks. They move around without a word and it’s
starting to freak me out. Feeling uneasy, I break the silence. “Are
we there yet?”

Without answering,
Nox releases my arm and slips the blindfold back over my head.

Son of a bitc-

Nuh uh. I don’t like
it. The blindfold has got to go. Sighing loudly, I reach up and
yank the blindfold above my eyes. “I think you know I’m not going
to run. Where the hell would I run to?”

Nox’s glare is harsh and his lip curls. “For fuck sake,
Delilah! When I put a blindfold on you, there’s a goddamn reason.”
He leans closer to me and whispers, “Don’t push me, little girl.
You don’t wanna see my bad side.”

I
blink a second before my eyes widen and I lean back from him as I
whisper hiss, “
This
is your
good side?”

He says nothing but
his cheek tics again. I’m thinking that might have something to do
with me. I haven’t confirmed this yet.

Holding up my hands
in surrender, I concede, “Okay, okay. Sheesh. I’ll wear the
freakin’ blindfold. Don’t get your panties in a twist, oh captain,
my captain. And don’t call me Delilah.” I see his jaw clench
tighter and I bite my cheek to stop myself from smirking. Pulling
the blindfold down, I hold out my arm which he grips tightly and
leads me out of the van.

We
start walking, and after a while, I do
not
like the silence. Just as I open my mouth to say
something, no doubt crass and sarcastic, I trip over a jagged stone
and stumble to my knees. Nox hauls me up not a second after I fall.
“You ‘kay?” He says this in a way that could have been interpreted
as ‘You are a burden in my life and I don’t like you’.

Currently blind, I
push my arms out towards the sound of his voice and they luckily
connect with his chest, pushing him back about a hairs breadth. My
face flushes more from embarrassment than rage. “Goddamn it! Watch
where the hell you’re going! This is why I don’t like the
blindfold. Blindfolds are used in trust exercises, you moron, and I
think it’s clear that I. Don’t. Trust. You!”

I’m shocked when he
apologizes. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

This doesn’t placate me. Not one teeny bit. “And you’re meant
to be
protecting
me? What the hell? Jeez, just feed me to the sharks, why don’t
you!”

My
knees sting like hell but I don’t utter a word of complaint,
because let’s face it, Nox doesn’t seem like a giver of
fucks
. What I
have
noticed
is that his grip on my arm is marginally lighter and he’s walking a
lot slower, too. We stop and I hear footsteps, but no one says a
word. Some loud mechanical whirring sounds start up and I jump back
in fright. Nox squeezes my arm in what I’m sure was meant to be
reassurance. It feels more like a threat, though. We walk another
short while, then I hear a door creak open, and suddenly, I can see
again.

Whoa! Where the hell
are we?

This house is
fab-u-lous. My mouth gapes and Boo appears by my side. “It’s the
shit, huh?”

Eyes wide, I simply
nod. I shake my head to clear it. My voice is low and shallow as I
ask, “Where are we?”

Boo opens her mouth,
but Nox cuts her off. “Safe house.”

More like safe mansion! I scan the room I’m in. It’s not as
big as my house but it’s
big
.
And nice. And open. At a glance, I can see a modern kitchen
complete with marble countertops, a six-burner stove, and an oven
big enough to fit to three Thanksgiving turkeys in it. The dining
room has a
sixteen
-seater mahogany table with matching chairs.

Who the hell
entertains for sixteen people? That’s not a dinner party, that’s a
freakin’ fiesta.

The sparkling white walls confirm the owners of this house
plan to have no children. The chandeliers in the main hall and
dining area are large and gleaming. The ceilings are as high as
high can be. The furniture is all mahogany and stunning. This place
is timeless. This may very well be my dream house. It’s so homey
and warm. I love it.
But this place is huge. Spinning around, I
risk a question that I’m not sure I’ll like the answer to. “Is my
family coming here?”

Boo’s face falls and
I know the answer before Nox says it. “No, Lily. You’re to remain
separated. You won’t have contact with them until the threat we’re
protecting you against is gone.”

My heart
lurches.

How long will that
be?

I don’t risk asking
another question I may not like the answer to. Reaching up, I rub
my temples with my fingertips. “Can you please tell me what the
hell is going on? Why am I here?” Even to me my voice sounds tired
and strained.

Silence. I open my
tired eyes and look up at Nox. He searches my face. “Eat
first.”

Too tired to argue,
I nod, and drag my feet after him.

***

Nox

This is bullshit.
This is not what I signed up for.

I
sneak a glance at Delilah Flynn and I know
,
I just fucking
know
that she’s gonna be trouble. As soon as she smashed that vase
on Ricky’s head, I knew I was fucked. When you look at her, you
think the word
pushover
.

You see this pretty
girl stuck in the body of a tomboy. She 5’8” and wears a pair of
black loose athletic shorts that come just above her knees, a
yellow football style tee that’s two sizes too big that comes just
above her stomach showing her bellybutton and a pair of white
sneakers.

Her choice of
clothing doesn’t suit her face.

She’s pretty. And when I say pretty, I mean
pretty
. And she doesn’t even know it. Which
doesn’t help me in the slightest. Her long, dark-reddish hair has
half come out of its ponytail. It’s thick and has a wave to it. Her
face is clear and her skin has a peaches-and-cream thing going on.
She’s pale. Almost like she’s never seen the sun, but it suits her.
Her bright-green eyes are encased by long dark lashes. She doesn’t
wear a stitch of makeup. She’s naturally pretty. But that
hair…that
fucking
hair.
I haven’t seen anything like it. It’s thick and shiny. She’s got
nice hair.

And that blows.

When you have a job like mine, you expect to come across
contracts that you don’t like from time to time. Solution? Get it
done quickly and forget about it. I’m being paid a lot, and I mean
a
lot
, to
babysit Miss Delilah Flynn for as long as it takes, so
unfortunately, the quick and forget thing might not be
happening.

I’m sorely
regretting the decision I’ve made. I should’ve passed this job
on.

Without a word, I
place my hands under her arms and lift Delilah up onto the kitchen
counter top. She yelps then growls, “Would you stop picking me up
like I’m a freakin’ sack of potatoes!”

Leaving her, I open
the cabinet above the pantry, take out the first-aid kit, and bring
it over to her. She looks down at the kit with obvious confusion
but doesn’t say a thing. I lift her leg and place her foot to rest
on my thigh. It’s then she sees her scraped and bloody knees and
mutters, “Of course. Great. Just great.”

Dear god, please give me strength to make sure that
I
don’t become the threat against the
girl I’m trying to protect.

This little woman is
grating my nerves something fierce. With her smartass comments and
talking back, I’m gonna go nuts locked up here with her. Especially
when I’m technically not allowed to let her out of my sight for as
long as this thing takes. And I don’t know how long that’ll be. As
far as I know, the threat hasn’t actually been confirmed just
yet.

I tear open an
antiseptic wipe, and as soon as I press it to her knee, she squeals
then bursts into laughter while trying to kick me away. “No!” She
quells her laughter and scowls, “No. Give it here. I don’t like
people touching my knees.”

Shaking my head, I
wonder why she didn’t just tell me she’s ticklish. I hand her the
cloth and she carefully wipes her knees until they’re clean. I take
out two square bandages and hand them to her. She places them on
her knees and jumps down from the counter.

Shit. Now she actually looks like a kid. Skinned knees and
all. And I feel like a prick for checking her out earlier. I know
she’s not underage or anything, but firstly, it’s not professional,
and secondly, I am
not
going
there, so I shouldn’t even be thinking about her like that. I never
get involved with anyone I protect. I distance myself as much as
possible. It maintains a clear mind.

Boo carries over a
plate full of sandwiches then excuses herself. She’s on watch until
midnight, so we won’t see her again until then. As soon as Boo
walks out, Rock walks in and jumps up on the counter, semi-glaring
at Delilah. “You tried to knock me out, woman.”

Her eyes widen in
acknowledgment. She swallows her mouthful of sandwich before she
speaks. “I knew that was you in my room! What the hell was with the
freaky-slow head shake? Of course I tried to knock you out,
bonehead, you kidnapped me!”

“
Hey now, we did that for your protection. And by the way, you
might’ve connected with my face, but you’ve got a weak hook. All
you did was piss me off, babe.” He grins.

“
I
am
not
weak. I’m badass.” She
scowls at him. Her lips pout a little. It’s pretty damn cute. “And
don’t call me babe.”

Fuck.

Rock lifts her hands
high into a boxing stance. She watches wide-eyed with complete
interest as he shapes her fists the way he wants ‘em. She stands
taller and mimics his pose. “What you wanna do is hold ‘em high,
but not right in front of your face, just high enough so you can
deflect any incoming blows. You might not deflect ‘em all, but you
will stop some of ‘em. So what you gotta do is…” Rock looks up at
me smiling. His smile fades when he catches the look of disbelief
on my face. Clearing his throat, he leans down to Delilah and says,
“We’ll continue this lesson later.” And then he’s gone.

Delilah looks up at
me while finishing her sandwich; she speaks around her mouthful.
“Will you please stop fart-assing around and just tell me what’s
going on?”

Picking up another
sandwich, I bite into it and watch her. She rolls her eyes at me
and nibbles at the rest of her sandwich. I have to show this girl
that she can’t demand things of me. There are reasons I do things
the way I do them. I do not explain myself to anyone apart from my
superior, Mitch. A question sits upon the tip of my tongue, and I
just can’t seem to stop myself from asking. “Why don’t you like to
be called Delilah? It’s a nice name.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, right.” She swallows the last of her
sandwich before picking up another. “Okay. So you know the Bible,
right?” I nod. “Well, whenever we were in church and there would be
reference to the story of Delilah and Samson, everyone would stare
at me. And I mean
everyone
.
Even the freakin’ priest. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like
it now. I prefer Lily.”

“
What’s the big deal about that story?” I ask confused. I’m
not religious but my mom is. She’d box my ears for not knowing. We
were a church going family.

Picking at her
sandwich and avoiding my gaze, she answers, “Delilah betrayed
Samson. She was basically a nark. She used her sex appeal to her
advantage and deceived Samson. She watched while they humiliated
him, and that sucks because Samson was a good man. His only crime
was falling in love. And she fucked him over…fucked him right up
the ass.” She looks up at me, eyes blazing. “Delilah was a
gold-digging whore.”