Willing Captive(33)
Thank you, God!
Nox expels a strained, noisy breath with every bounce as if I’m suffocating him, but I ignore it and ask my sister in a rush, “How are you? Are you safe? Do you know where you are?”
Terah chuckles, “Good to the first, yes to the second, and you know better than to ask me the third thing.”
I sigh, “I know, I know. I just thought-” Cutting myself off, I shake my head and mutter, “Doesn’t even matter anymore, I’m so damn happy to hear your voice! You have no idea!”
She teases in a baby voice, “Aww! Did you miss me?”
Without thinking, I tease back in my own baby voice, “Yeah. I miss you lots.” I say lots as wots.
Nox chuckles at our stupid conversation, but I don’t even care. In my elated state, I pull down my barriers and lean back into him. And I could almost swear that Nox inhales deeply, smelling my hair.
Right now, I don’t give a shit.
I’m so happy that if he asked, I’d take off my panties for him to sniff.
Terah spends the next few minutes filling me in on our time apart.
The person who took her from our house that day is a guy called Jonathon. And Jonathon is an absolute sweetheart. He and Terah are close. They’re good friends according to my sister. Which, in Terah speak, means she’s head over heels for the guy.
This should worry me because I don’t know this guy, but right now, I’m just so happy for her that the only advice I give her is to be careful. Terah tells me about Jonathon’s second, Takeshi, and his third, Sean. They’re also good guys. Good guys who are laid back and from what I hear, absolutely nothing like Nox. They let her pick out movies for movie nights, and they let her blast music if she’s in the mood; so basically, she feels like she’s on vacation.
Knowing Terah, an hour after she was taken, she would’ve made friends with everyone. We’re different like that. My dad’s constant paranoia has rubbed off on me.
After telling me all about her new home, she asks, “So, how’s your safe house? Are the people nice?” Suddenly serious, she adds, “They’re treating you okay, right?”
Filling her in on almost every detail, I tell her about being blindfolded and my lashing out, not trusting the people here, and about Nox being a hardass. I tell her about my foiled escape attempt, minus the hair pulling thing, and that the people here are really cool too; it just took me a while to notice. I mention that we had a small scare the other day to which she freaked out a little, but I reassure her I’m fine.
She asks quietly, “So, do you know why we’re here?”
Knowing I should tell her, I fight myself for only a second before I lie in perfect calm. “Not a clue.”
She sighs, “I miss you more than anything, Lil, but I know that dad wouldn’t do this unless there was a good reason.”
Oh, honey. You don’t know the half of it.
Agreeing with her, I mutter, “Yeah. I know. I love you, Rahrah.”
Chuckling, she whispers thickly, “Yeah, babe. Love you, more.”
Then she’s gone.
My smile melts into nothing. The void in my chest opens, sucking me into nothingness. Nox wraps an arm around my waist, holding me tight. Grounding me.
He continues to hold me while I cry through most of the night.
Chapter Eleven
Time flies when you’re having fun
One month later…
Lily
Holding the offending product in my hand, I storm down the hall muttering made up cuss words to myself. As soon as he hears me coming, he tries to shut the door on me, but I bolt and make it in the nick of time.
Nox sighs loudly before asking in that deep husky voice, “What is it, princess?”
I know he says this in a way that’s meant to be derogatory, but I don’t care. If I tell him how much I like that he calls me that, he’ll stop on principle.
And I can’t have that. The only thing that stops me from going crazy in this safe house is my daily argument with Nox.
His hair’s grown out in a way that looks so mouth-watering that I have to mentally remind myself that I mustn’t touch it whenever I’m near him. Because that would be weird, and I would then have to explain that I don’t have a hair fetish and…
Ugh, never mind.
Nox isn’t the best looking guy I’ve ever seen, so why does he have this stupid freakin’ hold on me?
You know why.
I mentally rip my hair out and shriek to high heaven.
I do know why, dammit.
He’s like a fairy-tale hero for Christ’s sakes. I know he’s ordered to protect me and all, but he does such a great job of it. He makes it look effortless. He’s all like ‘C’mon, pack your shit’ and I’m all like ‘No, I like it here’ and he’s all ‘Not safe here, princess’ and I’m all like ‘Sigh. Okay.’
That’s the basic conversation every freakin’ time.
All he has to do is princess me and I’m tripping over my own feet. I don’t know how he does it.
He’s old!
Okay, twenty-eight is not old, but he acts like a fifty year old!
Yeah, a fifty year old with ripped abs and arms that could crush a man’s skull, and those strong thighs… bet he’s hung like a hor-