I was not ready to be this close again.
The way he towered over me.
His cologne saturating my senses.
My knees weakened.
It was too much.
My flesh ignited as he closed the gap between us.
“Want a cookie?” I responded, my words making him look down at the plate in my hands. I continued to watch him, waiting for a smile, but instead, I was met with a look of disgust on his face.
“Trying to poison me?” he grunted.
A clever retort sat heavily on my tongue, but instead of saying it, I shut myself up by lifting the warm cookie and stuffing a giant bite in my mouth, dissolving into a hot mess of bliss. Chocolate chips played havoc with my tastebuds. I shuddered, my brain sending a silent message that the pleasure of this was probably nothing to the pleasure of him.
A long-drawn-out moan escaped my lips.
Flushing, as though he’d guessed my silent musing, I peered up at him.
He merely studied me, seemingly mesmerized by the way I licked the chocolate off my lips, sticky and thick. .
“I don’t recall you asking for permission to cook,” he said.
I took another bite and talked despite it. “If it wasn’t so good, I would spit it on you, but I’d hate to waste a perfectly good cookie,” I mumbled, mouth full. My mother would be disappointed with my poor manners.
“Unless you plan on eating all of them, they’re going to waste. No one in this house will eat something you made.”
His words stung, but regardless, I refused to let them bother me. Instead, I placed the plate of cookies down and took one of them with me before turning to look at him over my shoulder. “Your loss.” I shrugged and stormed away—stopping in my tracks suddenly when I’d made it just outside the door.
I wanted milk.
Turning back, I was about to reenter the kitchen when my step halted.
There he was.
Cassius.
A cookie in hand. And a smile on his face. He was taking another bite, and as he did, he groaned as he chewed with an expression of pure unadulterated bliss. Looking wickedly seductive.
A smile crossed my face as I stepped back into the kitchen.
“Busted!” I said, smirking.
He set the cookie on the plate and walked away from it. “Checking for poison.”
Watching him walk by me, I smiled at his boyish swagger and at the lowering of that wall of his, and the fact he had a chocolate chip on his very kissable lip.
Anya
Two days passed before I decided to brave the house in search of my captor. I had felt many different things after I’d found him eating the cookies I’d made.
One was confusion. How could he hide his enjoyment of it from me, and most of all, why?
What was the point?
Other than to torture me. Make me feel less. Not let me in.
I should be angry with him, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the sight of him standing there, looking like a normal man, eating what I’d baked. With nothing of the monster in him I’d believed him to be. That moment had humanized him. I’d witnessed him taking pleasure in something—as though I’d triggered a good memory. The boy glimpsing through the stark demeanor of a hurting man.
Cassius affected me in a way I didn’t want to think about.
I tried to avoid him as much as possible. Borrowing books from his collection in his library and taking them back to my room. It was killing me to do this, but I wasn’t ready to see him, and my conflicting feelings were getting the better of me.
I found myself creeping around the house.
Quietly taking the stairs down to the main floor, carefully treading the marble floor. I wanted to go unnoticed, not announce my approach.
I scanned the foyer. Maybe it was how big the house was, or maybe it was that no one was here, but it always felt empty.
There was something very creepy about this place. Almost like something sinister lurked around the corner. Secrets from what had made Cassius the man he was.
I couldn’t put my finger on why, but the foreboding lingered.
When my foot hit the final step landing me on the main floor, I looked around again to see if anyone was here.
Like always, the foyer was empty.
I went in search of something. Someone. But I knew in my heart I was searching for him. Because as much as I knew I shouldn’t speak with him, I couldn’t help it.
A moth to a flame.
The great hall was empty. Heading out, I stopped in my tracks. Halfway down the hallway, Cassius’s voice trailed from a room. His hushed tone proved he was talking low. Wanting to hear what he was saying but not wanting him to hear me, I removed my shoes and tiptoed toward the room the sound wafted out of.
Cassius wasn’t alone.
Another voice carried with his, proving another man was with him. Moving closer, until I was right outside the door, which stood ajar, I tried to listen to the voices echoing from within.
I remained perfectly still, ears straining to listen.
I heard my name.
My heart leaping like it might explode. I didn’t know why my body was having such a reaction; he was talking about me, and it threw me into a tailspin. Taking a deep inhale, forcing it in through my mouth, and willing the steadying breath to calm my body. Shaking, jaw tightening. Unsure of what I was so afraid of, but sensing it wasn’t good. Whatever it was, my very survival might even depend on it.
That familiar southern drawl that belonged to Ridley.
I held my breath, bracing to hear Cassius talk with his lawyer.
Ridley’s drawl was hushed. “Any contact with them?”
“You mean have they reached out?”
“Yes.”
“No, they’ve gone radio silent. And they know where she is now.”
“Well, that kind of fucks up your plan, right?” Ridley’s tone cut through the quiet. “I can’t believe her parents know she’s here. Have known this whole time and have done nothing to get her back.”
Unsteady, vision blurring as though trying to see through what they were saying, as though the words themselves formed images I couldn’t comprehend because they made no sense.
Mom and Dad knew I was here. They knew. All this time.
And they’d done nothing to get me out of here. They had no way of knowing that Cassius wasn’t torturing me. Or harming me in some way.
How can that be?
It was one thing not to come themselves but not to send help? It was impossible to comprehend. Impossible to believe.
“What do you think Glassman’s game plan is?” asked the slick lawyer, seemingly amused from that rumble of a laugh.
My body stiffened.
Cassius’s voice lowered. “If they haven’t come yet, I don’t think they will.”
“How does this affect things?”
“It doesn’t.”
I imagined Cassius shrugging after saying it—as though my life was being reduced to an annoyance to be dealt with.
I couldn’t hear anymore.
I needed to get away.
There was a plan in place, and as much as I wanted to know it, I couldn’t bring myself to stay here one more second. The voices in my head screamed to run. Run as fast as I could. But where? How could I find a place where I could be alone?
I ran toward the back door, needing air to breathe. On the way through the dining room, something caught my eye.
A bar.