Chapter Four
A cell fit for a king
Lily
“What?” I shriek. Shaking, my chest heaves with every heavy breath I take.
Nox looks stunned by my outburst. He stands with his hands outstretched in front of him in a pacifying gesture. “Calm down. You asked, so I told, but you only heard one damn sentence. Let me finish, will ya?”
So many thoughts rush through my head but I can’t seem to voice any of them. I nod and he looks a little more relaxed. “Your father contacted us about a month ago. He asked for protection for your family after someone anonymously sent him a threat. The threat looked false to me so I declined the job, but something didn’t feel right. A few nights ago, I hacked into your father’s email and saw there were other things being sent there. Hate mail and more threats. I immediately saw a pattern regardless of the threats being sent from multiple email addresses. I declined the job because I thought there was nothing to it, but when I saw the other things he hadn’t told me about, I decided to make a snap decision and get y’all out of there quick.” There’s a twang to his voice I hadn’t heard before. “So that’s when we broke into your house, and as you like to call it, kidnapped you.”
I’m stunned speechless. After a few moments silence, I ask quietly, “Why didn’t I know about any of this?”
Nox shrugs. “I assume your dad didn’t want you to worry. I don’t blame him. Women tend to overreact.”
I blink a moment before I screech, “Someone is trying to kill me! I think I have the right to overreact!”
He runs his hands down his face and mutters, “There she goes again.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I ask, “What exactly were the threats?”
“One threat. Kidnapping and murder of Miss Delilah Flynn. Just one threat made multiple times.” He says this as if he’s reading out of a diner menu. No feeling. No emotion. Just cold.
I’m confused. “Why me? I don’t go out or anything. I’m at home ninety-nine percent of the time. It doesn’t make sense.”
Nox leans his hip against the kitchen counter. “Well, from the past few days surveillance I’ve had you under, it has shown me that your father is more protective of you than your sister. I think that has something to do with it. But I could be wrong.”
He’s right. My dad is a lot more protective of me than of Terah. I never really understood it. When I asked my parents if I could go to college, dad got angry. He said he expected that one of his girls would take over the business and Terah wasn’t interested. She was already at college. I was basically guilt-tripped into doing an internship at Flynn Logistics. I do all my studies externally in the warehouse office and send it off to a training institute to get signed off. It feels like I’m being home schooled.
I whisper, “Are you wrong a lot?” Holding my eyes, he shakes his head. I sigh, “I was afraid of that.” Then I remember something he said and glower at him. “You had me under surveillance?”
He nods. “Yup. Sure did, darlin’. And don’t look at me like that. You never would’ve known if I hadn’t just told you.”
He’s right again. Shit. Folding my arms in front of my chest, I ask, “How do I know I can trust you?”
A small smile lifts the corner of his lips. “You don’t.” My shoulders slump in defeat and he asks seriously, “Have I given you any indication that I mean to harm you? Any indication at all?”
Being my smartass self, my mouth opens before I can think about what I’m about to say. “Well, now, let me think. There was the time when I was minding my own damn business, and I got restrained and kidnapped. Then I was blindfolded and taken to a place I’m not even sure is on a map. Then I was thrown down to my knees while I was being…” I use my fingers to make slow quotation marks, “…protected. Now I’m here being told that I can’t see or talk to my family. Indefinitely. You have no idea of the harm you’ve already done, Nox.”
Although it felt good to get all that off my chest, as soon as I see Nox scowling down at me, I regret my decision to run my mouth. Too late to apologize now. He leans down until we’re almost nose to nose. “I have a mind to tell you exactly what you can do with your thoughts, Delilah.” He smirks when he says my name.
He smells good. My cheeks heat. I try one last plea for tonight. “If you’d just let me speak to my father-”
But he cuts me off. “No.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears and I hate myself for it. I don’t dare blink because they’d be sure to fall.
You’re so weak, woman. Walk it off.
Dipping my chin, I shift from foot to foot. I don’t look up when he says, “I like this situation about as much as you do, Lily. We just gotta make the best of it. I am not a babysitter.” I raise my head at this comment. I’m close to calling him some choice names when he adds, “Not that I’m calling you a baby. Because you’re not. I’ve never had a job like this before, so take it easy on me, okay? We’re both experiencing something new here and it would go much easier for all of us here if we got along. We’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.”
We’re gonna be spending a lot of time together? …Well shit.
His eyes bore into mine, his brow bunched in a way that I know he’s expecting me to say something nasty. If I were more myself, I probably would, too. But right now, I’m so damn tired that sarcasm evades me. That’s pretty damn tired, if you ask me. My eyes are suddenly heavy, too. I puff out a long breath. “Whatever, boss man. Can you please show me where my room is? I need a shower and sleep.”
He steps towards me and reaches for my arm. I flinch back and his brow furrows. I tell him, “Don’t do that. I’m not going to run and I’m sick of being manhandled. Just escort me, please.”
His arm still outstretched, he nods once, and drops it before walking ahead of me. “Follow me.”
Following him up the stairs, I can’t help but look around. All the rooms are open and immaculate. The beds are made, the bathrooms are sparkling, and the windows gleam. This place is beautiful and has such a homey feel to it. I suppose it really doesn’t matter. I’m not fooled. I know what this place is. You can dress a prison cell any way you like, but it’s still a prison cell. Speaking of cells, I need to get my hands on a cell phone and I know Nox has one. Being sly as I can, I ask innocently, “So where do you sleep?”
His eyebrows raise in question. Once I realize how that question could’ve been construed, I flush bright pink but don’t say a thing. His gaze falls to my cheeks and he grins. “I sleep in the west wing with the rest of the guys. You’ll be in the east wing with Boo since she’s the only other woman here. I should warn you, though, that you won’t get much privacy while you’re here. If I see your bedroom door closed, I don’t care if you’re half naked or not, I will open it. The only place you’ll get some consideration is in the bathroom and while you’re in there, you’ll be timed. You’ve been warned. I don’t like closed doors. Locked doors in this house get broken down.”
My heart skips at that statement. Oh, I really don’t like it.
What choice do you have?
I’d say none and then some. When I walk in front of one room in particular, I stop and stare with a gaping mouth. Nox walks ahead of me and up the hall where he announces, “This is your room.”
Obviously having noticed I’m not behind him anymore, it takes a few moments, but he clears his throat right at my back. I don’t look to him. I can’t. Literally. I’m a moth drawn to a flame. This room is…is beautiful. I’ve found my temporary happy place . I feel his curious gaze on me and answer his unasked question. “It’s beautiful.” This comes out strained.
Looking over my head and into the room, Nox sighs. Not an annoyed sigh but more of a relaxed sigh. “Yeah. I like it too.”
Books everywhere . The walls are lined with them. I’m not talking a couple of book cases, but wall-to-wall books. And it’s not like it’s a small room either; it could double as a ballroom. The walls are actually shelved and I can’t see any free space. I wonder aloud in awe, “How many books do you think there are?”
His voice carries a hint of amusement when he replies, “At least ten thousand.”
And my ovaries explode .
Slightly weak-kneed, I hold onto the doorframe and choke out, “Wow.”
I know it’s highly unusual for people to get this excited over books. But if you’re a reader, you get me . I don’t need movies. I don’t need TV. But books…I can’t live without books. To me, a book is better than any movie. All I need is a good book, my imagination, and I am set free. I’m in literature heaven. And thank God, this may be the only thing that keeps me sane while we’re here.
“You’ll have plenty of time to read while you’re here. C’mon.” With loose hands on my hips, he pushes me along. I look back in the doorway one last time and mouth ‘I love you.’
Oh, screw sleep. I have to explore that room once I’m unstinky.
He squeezes my hips to stop me from walking and pushes me left into a bedroom.
It’s beautiful.
I feel the concealed amusement coming off Nox in waves. And I get it. He thinks I’m going to hate this room. Well, screw you, buddy, because I so don’t. I know I may not look like a girly-girl but the truth is, I don’t really mind that stuff; I just can’t be bothered with it normally. I’m usually so busy with work, that all I want to do when I get home is curl up on the sofa with a good book.
Reading trumps anything.
On occasion, I like to listen to music of my mp3 player, but I don’t have it with me, so I guess reading is all I have. And I’ll take it. Gladly.
Walking forward, I face-plant on my bed with a huge sigh. Rolling over, I stare up at the top of the soft pink four-poster bed. The window has been left open, no doubt to try to get rid of the musty, unoccupied smell, and I watch as the wind moves the sheer draping.
I really do like this bed.
Sitting up, I look around at my new room. It’s simple. It’s tidy. It’s similar to my old room at what I like to call the ‘normal’ house, which is, of course, the house we lived in before dad moved us into the mansion formerly known as Alcatraz two-point-oh.
There is an open door that I can see leads to a sparkling bathroom with a shower. Next to the bed is a white wooden night stand; there’s a small walk-in closet and a smallish white dresser. Which suddenly reminds me, “I like the room. Thank you. But what am I going to do for clothes?”
Nox watches me through furrowed brows. His silence feels more like an interrogation. I hate that he has that effect on me, with nothing but a glance. Shit. I lower my gaze and hear him step into the room; the sound of drawer scraping open makes me look up.
The dresser is full of clothes. Knowing Nox for the short time I have, I’d say he’s efficient enough to have those clothes in the exact size I need them. Looking him in the eye, I blurt out, “How long have you known I’d be kept here?”
I wait for an answer, but of course, the answer to my question is yet another curious glance in my direction.
Man, this guy is giving me the creeps.
Clearing my throat, I stand. “Okay, well, I’m going to shower now, so if you wouldn’t mind-” I wait for him to get the hint and leave.
But he doesn’t.
I try again. “Showering will commence in approximately one minute, Nox.” And he still doesn’t move. I’m suddenly nervous. Wide-eyed, I lean closer and hiss, “You are not coming into the bathroom with me while I shower!”
Thankfully, I notice his lip twitch reaffirming that he is not a droid and indeed human. He steps forward a second before he stops himself and takes two steps back towards the door, watching me all the while. Once he’s out of my room, I breathe a sigh of relief. He booms from down the hall, “Ten minutes, darlin’.” My nose scrunches and I step toward the bathroom. Just as I shut the door, I hear him shout again, “Or I’m comin’ in after you.”
Turning on the hot water, I sigh.
I gotta get out of here.
***
Coming out of the shower, I wrap the towel around my body as tightly as I can. Walking out of the bathroom, I stare at the door and wonder just how long I would have to myself before the door was thrown open. I decide to do an experiment. I call this experiment Captive Throwdown.
Walking over to the door, I close it, taking my time so as to not make a sound. Once it’s shut, I open the dresser drawers, take out a pair of simple white underwear and a matching plain bra, remove the tags, then step into the panties.
As soon as I reach down to pull the panties up my legs, the door swings open. I see a scowling Nox, but when he sees the position I’m in, his scowl disappears to be replaced with a slightly gaping mouth.
I’m mortified. But the look on his face tells me he’s possibly just as mortified. Maybe more. And I certainly got the results of my experiment. Forcing down my flush to no avail, I clear my throat and check my watch. Nodding with pursed lips, I say clinically, “Forty seconds, give or take. Not bad, Nox.”
Wide-eyed with a furrowed brow, he turns on his heel and walks out of my room, the open door gaping. Not a second later, he returns and closes the door almost to the latch, leaving only an inch open. And I smirk. Pulling my panties all the way up from under the towel, I chuckle.
I guess I won that round.