by Julia Sykes
“Bradley!” Sean’s voice was sharp, jabbing at the tension between us but not quite penetrating it.
When Bradley spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. “Apologize,” he said, a threat in his tone.
I hesitated, still disoriented by the pain in my head. But he shook me ruthlessly, doubling my discomfort as the sudden movement made the fast-growing lump at the back of my head throb.
“Apologize!” He said again, more harshly this time.
“I…” I gasped for air, struggling against the sudden tightness in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Bradley, that’s enough,” this time it was Sean’s voice that held a dangerous edge. I tore my gaze from my tormenter, and I was shocked to find the same furious expression that had been focused on me only moments before now turned against his best friend.
Although Bradley’s back was to Sean, he still seemed to sense his ire. With a scowl, he released me and rounded on him. I had to focus to keep my footing.
Sean was still glaring at Bradley. “What is wrong with you? Stop fucking doing that. She’s not hurting me. We just had a little disagreement, that’s all. I can fight my own battles. And I won’t allow you to abuse her. Not after she saved my life.”
Bradley’s mouth was hardened into a grim line, but after a moment he nodded jerkily. “Fine,” he said curtly. “She’s your responsibility then. You’re the one who wants to keep her here, so you’re going to have to keep her in line.”
“I’m pretty sure I can handle her,” Sean said coldly.
They stared at one another for a long moment, neither backing down. Then the tense moment was broken suddenly when Sean’s stomach growled loudly. Bradley’s hard expression melted instantly. “You should eat something. I’ll get you some food.”
But Sean’s face was still twisted down in a frown. “Get something for Claudia too,” he demanded.
Bradley’s glare returned. “I thought I just said she was your responsibility.”
“Well,” Sean began, his tone tight with suppressed frustration, “I can’t exactly take care of myself right now, so I’d appreciate it if you could help me out.”
Bradley’s scowl deepened, but he gave another short nod before turning on his heel and leaving the room. For the first time, he left the door open. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he truly had given up on “being responsible” for me. I knew that I would face much better treatment at Sean’s hands. And maybe this meant that I might be able to explore the apartment on my own, perhaps get to the fire escape?
I knew that I would have to bide my time, earn Sean’s trust. And make sure that Bradley was out of the apartment.
I could hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, and my own stomach growled as I suddenly realized how hungry I was. I had been running on adrenaline, but now that I was slightly more relaxed with my situation I became acutely aware of my physical needs again. And right now I could really use some food and water.
So I waited for my jailor to bring me a meal, like I was in prison. I grimaced at the thought that I was now completely dependent on these two men to survive. How long would I be at their mercy? How long until I could escape?
A few minutes later, Bradley appeared in the doorway, carrying two sandwiches and two glasses of water on a tray. Sean sat up in bed, wincing at the movement but otherwise making no sound of discomfort.
“You should take some more pain killers after you eat,” I told him.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Yes, doc,” he said, but his voice was mocking rather than meekly compliant. His disrespectful tone and insistence on using the diminutive nickname when Bradley was around pissed me off to no end. But I bit my tongue.
Be nice. Build trust.
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to thank Bradley as he proffered me my sandwich. I noticed that Sean’s looked much more appetizing than mine. His was piled high with ham, while mine had one slice of cheese between two cold slices of bread.
Prison food is probably better, I thought darkly. But it turned out that it tasted fairly good; I was that hungry. I gulped down the water, thirstier than I had ever been in my life.
We ate in silence, the tension between Sean and his friend still lingering in the air as Bradley leaned back against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he watched me disdainfully. I pretended not to notice, schooling my face to nonchalance as I forced myself not to wolf down my food. Even so, I was finished in all of three minutes.
Once my hunger and thirst were sated, I again became aware of how uncomfortable I was physically; I hadn’t had a shower since the day I had been taken.
“Ummm…” I began, worried about making another request of Bradley. So instead I turned my gaze on Sean as I spoke. “Can I take a shower?” I hated myself a little bit for asking permission. Like a child.
Sean’s face softened as he met my eye. “Of course. Sorry, I should have thought of that.” He looked me up and down, again taking in the fact that I wore his clothes. The corner of his mouth quirked upward, as though he couldn’t help it. I felt myself blush under his scrutiny. “I guess you’ll be needing new clothes, too,” he said after a moment.
Sure, I wanted to say snidely. I would love an orange jumpsuit. Or maybe some old-school black and white stripes. Orange isn’t really my color.
But I held it back. I really did want some fresh clothes, and the way that Sean looked at me while I was wearing his made me distinctly uncomfortable.
“Yeah,” I replied instead, “that would be nice.” But it didn’t feel nice. My stomach twisted as I realized that getting a new wardrobe meant that I was definitely staying here for a while. I felt like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. I wouldn’t be surprised if the chest of drawers turned anthropomorphic, bursting into song as it proffered me eighteenth-century French dresses, telling me, “You’ll look ravishing in this one!”
I couldn’t suppress a small sigh, although I knew I should try to look grateful in order to ingratiate myself with Sean, my own personal Beast. Only he was far, far sexier. I frowned at myself, resenting him for making me feel this way. Why did he have to be so goddamn hot?
Sean was studying me quizzically, clearly trying to read my thoughts through my expression. So I shot him a small, sweet smile. His brow only furrowed deeper, as though he could tell that it was a deception. But I held the expression firmly in place, and after a moment he gave a little shrug, turning his attention back to Bradley.
“You think you could do me another favor, buddy?” Sean asked. Bradley glowered, knowing what was coming.
“I am not going shopping for her,” he said staunchly.
Something in Sean’s eyes darkened slightly, but his voice was light and joking when he spoke. “I know that your sense of style is equivalent to a blind old schoolteacher’s who shops at the Family Dollar, but it’s not like I’m asking you to go on a reality show to be America’s Next Top Stylist.”
But Bradley didn’t seem to find his words remotely funny. Sean rolled his eyes. “I’ll pay for it. And I’ll owe you one.”
There was a moment’s pause, and then an evil smile spread over Bradley’s face as a thought came to him. “If I do this, you’re coming to Jolly Lolly’s with me as soon as you get better.”
Sean groaned. “Aw, man, you know I hate that place. The only thing more disease-ridden than the girls in there is the carpeting. And the only thing more desperate is the décor’s serious need of an overhaul. I feel like I need a shower just thinking about it.” He gave a dramatic shudder.
Bradley was still grinning. “I know you hate it. So that’s why it’s part of the deal. You torture me, I get to torture you.”
Sean looked at him levelly. “Going to pick up a few women’s clothes is not torture,” he said flatly.
“No,” Bradley agreed easily, “But it’s my own personal version of hell.”
“I would say that Jolly Lolly’s is hell, but even the Devil wouldn’t dare venture in there.” Sean looked as though he had a bad taste in h
is mouth, but a slight curling of his lips and his dancing eyes gave away the fact that he was enjoying bantering with his friend. Seeing them like this, I could understand why Sean cared about Bradley. Up until now, I had only seen the man as my captor and would-be murderer, but now he seemed almost human as he joked with his friend.
“Fine,” Sean assented with a long-suffering look. “I’ll go once. One night only. You got that?”
“Well,” Bradley said lightly, “that all depends on how many more favors you ask me to do.”
“I’ll do everything I can to avoid it,” Sean promised. Then he flicked his fingers at Bradley, dismissing him imperiously. “Now run along, errand boy, the lady needs something to wear.”
Bradley gave a derisive snort, but he turned with a little wave. “I’ll be back as soon as humanly possible,” he said over his shoulder before shutting the bedroom door behind him.
“There’s no need to rush,” Sean replied loudly.
“Oh, believe me, there is,” he called back as he slid the lock home. “I’m getting this over with as quickly as possible.”
With that, he was gone. I had thought that the tightness I held in my chest would disappear with him, but if anything my lungs only contracted further now that I was utterly alone with Sean. Awkward silence stretched between us as I wracked my brain for something to say, anything to ease the odd tension that was building between us. Unlike the furious, taut tension that had filled the room as Sean and Bradley faced off, this one had a different quality to it, as though the air around us was electrically charged, little sparks of it pinging across my skin.
“Soooo,” Sean drew out the word pointedly, only drawing further attention to whatever it was that had sprung up between us. My eyes snapped to his. There was a mocking laughter in their green depths, as though he knew something that I didn’t. “It’s going to be a long-ass day if we sit here in silence. Care to try having a civil conversation? You know, one where you don’t snap at me every second sentence. It’s a cute habit, but it does make talking a bit difficult.” He gave a dramatic sigh. “And I honestly don’t know if I could handle your onslaught in my fragile condition. You might just be the first woman to break me.” A cocky, lopsided grin that said I would do nothing of the sort spread across his face.
A cute habit?! The man was infuriating, and I had half a mind to snap at him again. But looking into his dancing eyes, I decided not to rise to his bait. If only I could break him, I thought resentfully. But I knew full well by now that Sean wasn’t a man to even bend, much less break. He had demonstrated that through his harsh refusal to release me. And through his imperviousness to my barbed comments. It was my turn to sigh, resignedly.
“Fine,” I said shortly. “The weather really is lovely today. Not that I can really tell while cooped up in here, but the view through the window is nice.”
“Hey,” Sean said easily, likewise refusing to rise to my bait, “beats solitary confinement. You get a room with a view and an excellent conversationalist as a cell mate. What more could you ask for?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “That has yet to be determined. So far all I see is a cocky, horny asshole. I wouldn’t exactly call our verbal volleys ‘great conversation.’”
Sean gave a low, rumbling chuckle. “You are a regular little spitfire, aren’t you? Well, I don’t mind. Keeps things interesting.” His expression suddenly turned deadly serious. “Enough about the weather. I have a very important question for you. Consider carefully, as your response will determine whether you’re cool or not. Claudia,” he said my name solemnly. “What is your favorite TV show?”
I flushed. Great. Seemed like I was about to be deemed “uncool.” And that idea bothered me more than it should.
“Ummm… I don’t really watch TV,” I admitted after a moment.
Sean’s eyes went wide, astounded. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “How about your favorite book?”
My cheeks only flamed hotter. “I don’t really read for pleasure either.”
He was looking at me as though I were an alien.
I made an exasperated noise, feeling defensive. “Maybe Grey’s Anatomy, then.”
He looked even more thunderstruck. “That’s not exactly a ‘fun’ book,” he said. “What are you, a robot?”
“I’m a doctor,” I snapped. “I don’t exactly have time for things like TV and books that don’t pertain to my work. Funnily enough, I value being good at what I do over allowing insipid dramas to take up space in my brain.”
His expression shifted, considering me. “Definitely not a robot,” he nodded after a moment. “You’re far too easy to get a rise out of for that. But not entirely human either. Do you have any life outside of your job?”
Okay, that hit a nerve. Some part of me knew that he was joking, that he didn’t mean anything by it, but it was too close to the truth. A truth that had been made painfully clear to me since my abduction: no one cared that I was missing.
“I was right,” I said with venom. “Turns out you are a shit conversationalist.” I folded my arms across my chest and turned my back on him, unwilling to let him see the hurt in my eyes.
“Claudia,” he said my name gently. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“You never do seem to say what you mean,” I snapped. “We’re done talking.”
I knew that this was a dangerous move; it went against my plan to ingratiate myself with Sean. But I would just have to behave myself to earn his trust. Being compliant didn’t mean that I had to pretend to be his friend.
I seethed in silence, the time passing interminably slowly as that tension grew between us again. But this time there was an uncomfortable edge to it, like the unpleasant tang of sulfur burning. Whatever there had been between us earlier was tainted now. And it was almost easier this way; it was certainly far less disconcerting.
As much as I didn’t ever want to see Bradley’s face again, it was almost a relief when he unlocked the bedroom door.
“Here,” he said, not even looking at me as he tossed a bag of clothes in my general direction. I peeked inside: some dresses from a charity shop and a pack of underwear that looked like they actually had come from the dollar store. I wasn’t sure if he was just being an ass or if he really did have a “sense of style equivalent to a blind old schoolteacher’s who shops at the Family Dollar.”
What got my hackles up more than anything was the complete absence of slacks or jeans. I never wore dresses; they feminized me too much, would make people take me less seriously at work. But I wasn’t at work, might never go again. Was I doomed to a future of being cast in the role of “fragile woman”? Okay, I might not be the strongest person physically, but I had worked hard to build an image as a tough-minded, competent modern woman. Even so, I pursed my lips, worried that Bradley would take the clothes away if I complained. But I wasn’t about to say “thank you.” So I settled for a glare.
“Can I have that shower now?” I asked Bradley coldly.
My only response was a grunt and a jerk of his head. I took it as a yes. Gathering up the bag, I marched past him to the bathroom, refusing to let him prod me along now that I knew the way. I closed the door firmly behind me, although he still stationed himself outside. What did he think I was going to do, escape by melting down through the drain like Alex Mack?
Okay, so maybe I had watched some TV when I was younger. Still, I got the feeling that my sadly outdated pop-culture references would only make Sean mock me more.
I shook myself, angrily shoving his hurtful words from my mind. I am not letting him get to me, I thought determinedly.
I let out a little relieved sigh as I peeled off my dirty clothes and started the water running. My nose wrinkled as I took in the state of the shower, which looked like it could use a good bleaching. This was clearly a “boy apartment.” The neat freak in me felt the urge to clean it, but damn it if I was going to play housekeeper for them. I was their captive, not their mother. I stepped tentatively into the porcel
ain tub, but I soon forgot my discomfort with the men’s dubious cleaning habits as the warm spray hit my body. I reveled in it, letting the heat of it bleed into my tense muscles until they fully relaxed for the first time in days.
Reaching for the shampoo, I found myself frowning again. It was a generic supermarket-brand man product that had a salty tang to it. No more Herbal Essences for me, it seemed.
Unless I ask like a good girl, I thought, my mouth twisting down in distaste.
Nope, I wasn’t going to ask for anything else that made my situation seem more permanent.
So I rubbed some equally man-scented shower gel between my hands and began furiously scrubbing at every inch of my skin, as though I could wash away the memories of what had happened to me. But there was no point in trying to forget; it wouldn’t change my situation. I could only move forward, bide my time and formulate a plan to get to that fire escape.
There was a pounding at the door, jerking me out of my dark thoughts.
“Time’s up,” Bradley called harshly. “I’m not going to let you run up the water bill, princess.”
Princess?! God, how could the man possibly make me hate him any more than I already did?
Reluctantly, I sluiced off the last of the soap and shut off the water. The towel that Bradley had left out for me was thin and ratty. Of course. Still, I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of complaining about it; I wasn’t going to let him know that he was getting to me.
There wasn’t a hair dryer in sight. No hope of taming my wavy hair to its usual orderly appearance, then. Whatever. Who was I trying to impress? And no makeup either. But that didn’t really bother me; I never wasted time on it anyway.
Grimacing, I blindly pulled one of the dresses out of the bag of clothes and jerked it down over my head. I gazed at myself in the mirror, shocked to find that I looked so much like myself and yet unlike myself. There were my same grey eyes, the same little dimple in my cheek that I secretly liked. But my alabaster skin seemed impossibly paler than usual, and my usually carefully-styled hair fell around my face in a damp, untamed mass of dark waves.
