Page 11 of Captive

The smile she wears slowly fades as she starts asking more questions. I don’t give her any answers, though. Just grunts and frowns. She doesn’t seem to take the hint, though, because she keeps talking.

Her voice… is kind of nice.

It’s a few hours until Ezra comes to relieve me of my babysitting duties, and by that time, dawn is streaming through the windows. I leave Abby to him and head upstairs, where I hit the sack after pulling on the blackout curtains.

Funny thing is, normally I sleep like a baby after a kill. Something about it, after the adrenaline leaves my system, just makes me pass out. Today, though, everything is different. I can’t shake the image of the beanie-wearing stranger who fell out of the closet, nor can I shake off the way her smile made me feel so warm.

Fuck.

One thing about being D.D.K.? We aren’t supposed to have distractions. We’re supposed to be ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice, drop everything and go do a kill. We are not supposed to have girlfriends or even hook up with strangers. No one night stands. Nothing like that. It would only invite mistakes, or real feelings to develop.

People like us? People like Ezra, Hawthorne, and me, we don’t get happy endings. We’re basically vigilantes. Life isn’t a movie. The antiheroes don’t get everything they’ve always wanted.

But with Abby here? With Abby, I have the feeling things are going to change.

Chapter Five – Abby

When Ezra swaps places with Royal, I can’t help but say, “So, about Royal. Two things. First: what’s with him? He’s not a very talkative guy, is he? And second: what’s with his name? Is Royal his real name, or is it some code name? Is your real name Ezra?”

Ezra seems to be in a better mood than Royal. He meets my rapid-fire questions with a dimpled grin of his own, his blue eyes twinkling. Now that he’s not wearing the D.D.K. ensemble, I can see the tattoos lining his arms, both of them. Sleeves made of all different designs.

He’s hot. They all are, really.

“Royal is his real name, yes,” Ezra says. He sits a bit closer to me on the couch, only a single cushion away, not putting as much distance between us as Royal did. “And you have to forgive him. It’s been a long night. Or, morning, I guess.”

Crap, yeah. It’s technically morning. I stayed up all night. Well, if you don’t count when I was chloroformed. That’s a gray area I’m not too well-versed in, I’ll admit. My head does feel a little better now than it did when I first woke up, so there’s that. Small victories.

“None of us were expecting you to fall out of the closet while we were, uh—”

“Killing a guy?” I offer. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to have company, either. To be fair, though, there was a huge spider. Otherwise I would’ve stayed in the closet and let you guys do your thing.”

Their thing being killing and cutting a guy up like his corpse was meant to be a puzzle. Still a weird thing to think about, but with what I do, what I was hoping to accomplish last night, well… it’s like looking in a mirror. A big, masculine mirror.

“Royal said you guys don’t kill women. Is that true?”

The look Ezra gives me tells me Royal wasn’t lying, and his words back him up: “It’s true. Not to change the subject, but did you ever make that list? When Royal gets up in a few hours, one of us can run out for whatever you need.”

“You guys don’t have, like, day jobs or something? Or are you three here all the time?” If they don’t have day jobs, either they come from money or… or they have to get their money elsewhere. Being that they’re a team, I do have to wonder if there’s more to the team than just Ezra, Royal, and Hawthorne.

“Plotting your escape?”

I shrug. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

The way Ezra looks at me with those bright blue eyes makes me squirm a bit, almost like he knows I’m full of it. Trying to run would be stupid, and I might be many things, but I’m not stupid. If these guys are this successful as D.D.K., they’ll be able to track me down and find me no problem, and next time they might not be so nice about it.

I mean, the chloroform wasn’t so nice, but who can blame them for being careful? I get it. I ain’t mad about it.

So why would I try to run? I’m willing to see where this goes. Hey, maybe they could teach me a thing or two about killing. They clearly know a lot more about it than I do, and I am always willing to learn.

“Sorry,” Ezra says with a grin. “We’re here all the time, unless we’re out and about. Hawthorne rarely leaves the house, though.”

“So he’s the brains behind this whole operation?”

“In a way, yes. He’s good at computers. He helps us get to know our targets before we strike. He’s…” Ezra trails off, almost as if he’s unsure of how to go on. “…he can be a little awkward at times, but he’s a good guy. You don’t have to worry about him, or any of us. You don’t seem too worried about it, but I want you to know we won’t hurt you.”

He sounds so earnest about it, it’s kind of sweet—in a weird way, of course. This whole situation is messed up, but I don’t feel like screaming and running away, so there’s that. Then again, even if the situation was a million times worse, screaming would be the last thing I’d do.

The men I go after like it when you scream. I’d never give anyone the satisfaction.