Page 36 of Captive

I force a chuckle, although the blasted sound comes out flat and uninspired. AKA very clearly fake. “Everyone has bad dreams every now and then. I can’t control what I do when I’m in one. Really, I’m fine. You guys can go. I’m going to try to grab a few more winks.”

Royal doesn’t look like he wants to go, but he doesn’t argue with me. He’s the first to duck out of the room. Hawthorne is right behind him, although he tosses me a lingering look and an expression I can’t read before he goes. Ezra, on the other hand, remains right where he is, on the bed.

“Go,” I tell him.

“It wasn’t just a nightmare, was it?”

His blunt question makes me shake my head and shrug him off. “Yes, it was. You guys are acting like I’m the weird one, but seriously, everybody has nightmares, even you, I’m sure. It’s no big deal.” The more I say, the less certain I sound, probably because Ezra’s blue gaze currently stares holes through me.

“What was it about?”

Come on. Even he has to know I don’t plan on telling him, so I’m not sure why he bothered to ask. “Don’t worry about it.” This time, when I say it, I’m firm. Well, firm while also being borderline pissed off.

I need him to drop it.

Ezra doesn’t take the not so subtle hint. “Was it… about who you lost?”

“Jeez,” I say, tossing the sheets off me and getting up. I meander to the closet and throw open the door, picking out a new set of clothes for the day. “I don’t go probing about your past.” I technically share this closet with Hawthorne, although I have kind of taken it over. Whoops. I pull out a plain t-shirt and then move to the dresser to grab some jeans.

“Actually, you do.”

“So is this payback or something? Are you suddenly a shark smelling blood in the water?” I turn to face him, and, without warning, I strip out of my pajamas. Foolishly, I hope the action will cause him to leave me alone, but in the end, all he does is avoid looking at me.

Ugh.

“That’s not it,” he says, his stare now off to the side.

I slip on the shirt and then yank down my pajama shorts, and I’m slow in putting the jeans on. “We aren’t friends. We’re not even coworkers. You and I are barely acquaintances,” I tell him as I button the jeans. “I’m kind of stuck here. You and I—we don’t have to know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. We can live in the same house, eat the same food, use the same bathroom; but we don’t have to be anything more.” A frown tugs on my face. I can’t help it.

Okay, this might be me getting a taste of my own medicine. I now understand just how annoying it is. Lesson learned. I’ll leave the guys alone when it comes to their past. If they don’t want to talk about it, they don’t have to. That thing with Hawthorne when I was cutting his hair? A one-off.

“I don’t know your baggage, and you don’t know mine,” I say once his gaze is on me. You know, once he’s sure I’m clothed and not standing there in my bra and panties. “And that’s A-Okay, as I’m sure it’s A-Okay with you.”

His brows come together, and he says not a single word as he watches me walk to the door.

What could he say? There’s nothing he could possibly say that would make me share my past with him. Nothing.

Chapter Sixteen – Royal

Ezra comes to me during my daily workout, and based on the look he wears, I already know what’s on his mind. I know, because the same thing has been on my mind all morning. The same person, really.

Abby.

Fuck, she’s been on my mind ever since our last kill, for more reasons than one, but after hearing her screaming from a nightmare, I just can’t shake it. She’s really not the type who screams about anything, ever. That means…

That means there’s something there, something in her past. It’s not so shocking; we all have things we’d rather not think about. Me, Hawthorne, Ezra.

“Hey,” Ezra says, finding me sitting on the front edge of the bench, doing some curls. “Got a moment to talk?”

“Sure,” I say, and out of the corner of my eye, I watch as he closes the door. A private talk, one he doesn’t want Abby to overhear since she occasionally joins me for workouts.

It’s only after he approaches me on the bench that he says, “About this morning…”

“Yeah,” I harrumph. “I know.”

“Abby—”

“I know,” I say again, because I do know. We all do. None of us are stupid. Ezra and I might not be as smart as Hawthorne, but then again, is Hawthorne even really that smart? The dude almost got thrown into prison for what he did. Ezra and I never got that close to the law, although the Benefactor found Ezra before he could take matters into his own hands.