It seemed like we both had questions the other couldn’t answer. Call me stupid for questioning this man but as absurd as it sounded, I was beginning to like him, to like his company. Even as we stared at each other, comfortable in the silence just like when we played pool, I wondered if we could be friends. Yeah, call me insane.
Without a word, he turned and walked away. At the door, he half-turned and watched me through eyes I couldn’t read, his expression guarded, shielding what he was thinking. Weirdly, I wanted to know what he was thinking when he looked at me, what he felt. I waited for him to say something, maybe answer my question but he merely checked his watch and walked out. The distinct click of the door closing, an abrupt reminder that I was just his prisoner, I held no privileges to answers or friendship it seemed. Yeah, definitely insane.
Chapter 12
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RAYDEN (18YRS)
The next morning, I looked up as the door opened and Maria smiled at me. “Come.” She motioned for me to follow her.
Pulling the drawstring tighter on the sweatpants she’d given me the previous night, I followed her through the house to the covered patio that overlooked a large sparkling pool. My steps slowed as I took in the sight next to it. On thick, green grass, the setup looked like something out of a martial arts movie. A couple of contraptions carved out of wood laid scattered around. That’s what I thought, until I saw Lorenzo. Dressed only in black sweatpants, he hung by just one hand gripped around a rod suspended over two wooden columns. I stared mesmerized as he pulled himself up until the underneath of his chin touched the top of the rod. He repeated the exercise for a couple of counts before switching to the other hand.
Fuck.
Judging by those hard pecs and biceps glistening with sweat in the sunlight, the man had some serious upper body strength. I could only imagine what pressure his fingers would unleash on an unsuspecting victim’s neck. It took me a couple of seconds to realize I was clutching my neck, remembering his grip. I grinned. He could’ve done some fucked-up damage to my vocal cords if he wanted to shut me up.
Lorenzo moved between the contraptions in a well-coordinated routine that I assumed was just a haphazard set-up. His speed and agility were fucking incredible and left me feeling embarrassed that at my age, I doubted I’d go one round whereas he’d done three in under a few minutes.
I was still watching when Zena arrived at my side. “Wow,” she gaped at him.
I couldn’t blame her for the unchecked admiration. Fuck, even I was in awe of the man. I assumed that mafia dudes went around killing people and lived off dirty money. Lorenzo’s rigid workout told me there was so much more to him than met the eye.
“Why don’t you give it a try?” Zena shoulder-bumped me.
“Yeah right. I already embarrassed myself enough around you,” I scoffed.
“Hey.” She rubbed my arm lightly. “You didn’t embarrass yourself, we just got caught up in an unsuspecting circumstance.”
“Which I could’ve prevented.”
“Quit beating yourself up about it. We’re stuck here and we’re going to have to make the most of it or get ourselves killed.” She shrugged. “And if it’s any consolation, you’re already well-defined enough for me.”
Squeezing my arm lightly, she gave me a breath-taking smile then slipped her arms around me. Her lips slid in a slow dance over mine. The kiss was soft and gentle, nothing like the heated warmth from last night. Regardless, my cock reacted, hardening, and pushing against the soft material of the sweatpants. Zena ground herself against me, her hold tightening on my waist, nails digging into my skin through the t-shirt. Every nerve in me tensed, waiting for that moment we could take this further.
A sudden cough had us breaking apart and when I looked up, my eyes met Lorenzo’s over Zena’s head. His brow shot up, his smirk unmissable before he turned his back on me and strolled into what I assumed to be an outdoor bathroom. Was he making fun of me? It was the second time he’d broken our kiss. He hadn’t laid down any rules apart from me not attempting to escape again so what was the big deal with us kissing. After the shooting range last night, I was under the impression we’d moved to another level in our so-called captor and victim relationship. It seemed like I was wrong.
