Willing Captive(35)

He said the calls were to be five minutes and no longer.

Now, I don’t know much about negotiating, but I know you gotta start high.

“Half hour. Minimum.” I offered.

Nox shook his head and made a sound of disbelief. “Um. No. Five minutes.”

I tried harder, “Gimme somethin’ I can work with, Nox. Twenty minutes.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, but he said firmly, “Five minutes.”

My bravado failed slightly when my next offer sounded more like a question, “Eighteen minutes?”

His voice turned soft. “Lily.”

My heart pounded and my nose tingled, the stupid shake in my voice sounded as I asked quietly, “Fifteen minutes?”

More softness. Softer than soft. “Lily.” His voice pleading me to not push this.

Defeat evident, I dipped my chin to stop my quivering lips from showing as I whispered, “Okay. Five minutes.”

Moving closer to me, he caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it. My watery eyes met his icy blues. I was momentarily stunned when I saw something akin to sympathy there.

Using his free hand, he stroked my hair once, dropped his hand to his side and explained, “I’m not an unreasonable guy, Lily. I know you think I’m a dick and that’s cool. But I need you to know, I’m not unreasonable. Not ever.”

It took me a whole thirty seconds to get what he meant.

Meaning if there was leeway to give, he would consider what I was asking. But he can’t offer me leeway when there is none.

Breaking my thoughts, he offered, “Calls made once a week. Five minutes with your parents.” Holding my chin firm, his eyes bore into mine. “Fifteen minutes with your sister.”

When I flung myself at him and buried my face into his neck, he held me tightly. My stupid tears flowing freely.

He never rushed me.

He wouldn’t drop me.

He was my shield.

He would protect me.

Against almost anything.





***





So I guess you could say that things between Nox and I have both improved and declined. In the month that passed, I managed to pry some information out of him.

Regardless of how minimal the stupid facts are, I feel victorious.





Fact.

Nox loves iced tea. It reminds him of home.

Once, I made the mistake of asking him if he wanted sugar. He responded immediately, “Sweet tea’s for pussies,” then walked away.

Fact.

Nox is fluent in three languages and passable in six others.

He won’t tell me which ones.

Fact.

When Nox was sixteen, he was caught drunk as a skunk at a strip club. The owner called his mama and she dragged him home by his ear.

Fact.

Nox hasn’t been with a woman in close to two years.

According to Boo.

Fact.

Getting Nox to reveal pieces of himself is harder than pulling a tiger’s tooth.

Fact.

Delilah Flynn prefers to sleep with a strong arm around her waist.





A few weeks ago I woke in a cold sweat with my heart pounding out of my chest. When I opened my eyes, I looked to the doorway and for once, I wished I’d seen Nox sleeping there.

Since we came back from our first motel room adventure, Nox had left me alone. And although I was glad he put his trust in me, that first night back, I missed his presence and the comfort it brought.

Since that first adventure, there have been two more.

Both included shrieking siren alerts. Both included me being thrown into the back of a creepy black van. Both included me being blindfolded. Both included finding the most obscure, small motel to stay in, hours away.

Both times, it was just me and Nox.

Both times, Nox slept pressed into my back with an arm around my waist.

You wouldn’t hear me complaining.

In fact, my rigid body would turn soft at the contact.

I missed that.

So when I woke in a cold sweat, heart racing at almost four in the morning, it was clear what I needed. A shower, you say?

Hell no.

I needed a strong arm around me.

Slipping out of bed, I threw off my soaked nightie, replaced it with a tee and tiptoed out of my room. Creeping down the hall, I reached the door at the very end, wrapped my fingers around the door knob, and twisted.

Only to feel resistance.

Damn it to heck!

Nox locked his door at night.

My gut sank.

I stood there in the hall, dressed in a baggy white tee and underwear, contemplating what to do next, when something clicked and the door opened. Nox stood there in boxers, looking tired and just woken. Without a word, I pushed my way inside, walked across the room, climbed into his bed facing away from him, and covered myself with the covers.

Laying my head down with a sigh, I waited.

And waited.

Patiently, I waited some more until I finally felt it. The bed depressed, and Nox slid in beside me.

Turning to me, his arm wrapped around my hips, and he pulled me back into his body.

Not a single word was spoken.

And that was okay.

We didn’t need ‘em.





***





That was not the last night I’d spent in Nox’s bed.