Page 52 of Captive

“It’s okay to be happy every now and then,” Abby tells me. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about it. Just promise me, if I ever make you feel uncomfortable, or if I ever say something that upsets you, or I do anything that upsets you—”

She stops rambling when I lift a hand and gently run my fingers down the side of her face. I don’t know what makes me do it, or why it ends up being such a drawn-out action on my part. It’s like she’s a light in the middle of the darkness and I am nothing but a moth, helplessly drawn to its luminosity.

“Nothing you could do or say would ever upset me,” I say, slow in dropping my hand from her face. Her skin is softer than I imagined. That information isn’t something the old me would’ve wanted to know, but I’d be lying if I say this talk didn’t help me. It did. It helped, and it made things so much clearer.

She doesn’t pull away after that. She stays right where she is, giving me the softest smile known to mankind. A smile like that should be illegal with the way it makes me feel. “Good,” she whispers. “I guess I’ll let you be.”

“You don’t have to.” The words are out of me before I can stop them. “I mean, I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to go.”

She still wears that smile, though it grows somewhat when she asks me, “If I stay, what would we do? I don’t see any TVs in here, and unless you have some board games hidden in that closet…”

A weird sound escapes me. I think it’s a chuckle? A soft one, to be sure, one that only lasts two seconds at the most, but definitely a chuckle. “You a board game fanatic?”

“Oh, I play a mean game of Monopoly. UNO is another favorite, but it’s been years since I’ve played anything. Obviously, you can’t play any of those games by yourself, so the past few years, my life has been pretty board game-less.”

“I’m surprised someone like you even knows what Monopoly is. I didn’t know the wealthy played board games.”

Her gentle smile breaks into a full-blown grin as she stares up at me. “Ezra,” she practically purrs out my name. “Are you teasing me? I don’t know how to respond. I don’t think you’ve ever teased me before.” In a more hushed whisper, she adds, “I kind of like it.”

Another chuckle leaves me, but this one is a bit louder, more firm. More of an actual laugh. “You would like it, wouldn’t you?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that it’s not surprising.” It’s crazy how quickly things changed, just like that. Regardless of how heavy that talk was, how serious the topic was, I do feel better. I feel… lighter. I wouldn’t necessarily say I feel freer, but these shoulders of mine definitely don’t weigh as much as they did twenty minutes ago.

Seriously, it’s crazy how easy Abby makes things. I think it’s why I was having such a hard time with it, with her, before. I’m not used to it.

Abby flashes me her pearly whites. “Have I ever told you I dig a man with tattoos?”

“Oh, yeah?” I glance down at the sleeves on my arms. “Got any yourself?”

“Oh, no. Nope. The thought of a needle quickly poking holes through the top layer of skin gives me the heebie-jeebies, but I do like the way they look on a muscled man like yourself. The tattoos, the blue eyes, the blond hair—you’re a good-looking man, you know.”

“Am I? Please, go on.”

That gets her to laugh, and her laugh fills me with contentment. I want to hear her laugh again and again. Such an easy, light sound; it’s effortless for me to focus on it. For that matter, it’s easy for me to focus on everything that is her.

How she stands. How she looks up at me. The way her pink and blue hair frame her heart-shaped face. The almost metallic silver stare she has. And that’s not to mention the fact that I now know how soft her skin truly is.

“Tell you what,” she says with a grin, “anytime your ego needs some stroking, come to me and I’ll stroke it until it explodes.” Though she’s talking about my ego, the double entendre is crystal clear.

“Better not tell that to Royal. I’m sure he’ll take you up on that constantly.”

“He does, but I don’t mind. I like it, actually.” She reaches up and twirls some of her hair around her finger, looking mighty cute in the process. “I’m learning what each of you likes. I haven’t quite figured you out yet, but I think I have Royal down—and Hawthorne. Did you know that man likes being told what to do? For someone who’s in charge of this household, he’s a sub at heart.”

“I want to say that’s news to me, but I may have heard some things coming from your room the other night.”

I was shocked, don’t get me wrong. With how adamant Hawthorne was in the beginning, with how serious he took it when I told him that she and Royal got down and dirty at our last kill, I would have assumed he would have the most willpower out of the three of us. Apparently I was wrong.

She shrugs and apologizes, although it’s evident she’s not really sorry at all: “Sorry. I guess that’s what happens when the walls are thin and your room is right across the hall. Next time, we can try to be quiet, but I make no promises. I like being loud, and I like ‘em loud, too.”

Maybe some of the guilt I’ve been feeling lately was also due to the fact that I laid in bed after overhearing some of those sounds and wondered what exactly was going on in that room… and wishing I was there myself. The shame and guilt stopped me from getting up and joining them.

“There’s going to be a next time?” I ask. Now that tightening isn’t just in my heart. It traveled a bit lower now. Again, talking to her really did make things clearer. I feel better than I have in so long.

“Why so curious? Planning on joining us?” She rakes her eyes up and down my figure, and you’d have to be blind to not see the desire in their depths. “Is that something you’d be into?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”