My Billionaire Captor

by Shae Black

  What’s he going to do to prove to me that nothing can be done for him? I’m in the medical field, I know better than to give up hope. I’ve seen miracles, people who had zero chance pull through and live a long life. It’s not like Marcus to give up, he always gets what he wants, all the time, so what’s holding him back from scouring the earth for someone to cure him? Unless…maybe he’s already done that? Well I don’t care if he has, we will look harder. I also imagine he believes he deserves this as his punishment but no way, I’m not accepting that. I believe there is a God and I can’t imagine he would be intentionally cruel, everyone deserves forgiveness.

  Dr. Bava parks in a spot assigned to him that is conveniently close to the doors of the E.R. It’s late and the hospital doesn’t seem to be busy. I suspect even if it were we would be whisked into a room after one terrifying look from Marcus, and being accompanied by a physician on staff helps too. It suddenly occurs to me that we are going to have to have some sort of story so Marcus doesn’t get fucking arrested for assault or worse attempted murder! For what feels like the hundredth time I make a writing gesture asking for my paper, but this time I’m a little frantic so he gives it to me right away.

  What are we going to say? I don’t want you to get reported to the police! I hand it over, he reads and I wait for some panic, anxiety, something. But no, he relaxes back into the uncomfortable chair beside my equally uncomfortable gurney. I reach out and tap his shoulder rapidly conveying my urgency. “Don’t worry Imani, remember? That’s my job. Let me take care of it, everything is fine, nobody is going to accuse me of anything.” Well what the fuck? How does he know that? And what am I supposed to say happened?

  No time to work on a story the E.R. doctor enters the tiny stall and they begin to speak in Italian, great, I can’t talk and now I can’t understand what the hell they are saying either! This is exactly why I didn’t want to be treated in a foreign hospital. In an environment where things are usually very familiar I feel vulnerable and helpless. It’s a hospital with, clinical surroundings, the smell of bleach, the soft buzz of the lights overhead but I’m just as much an outsider as any patient, being a nurse gives me no advantage when I can’t communicate. “He’s going to get a CT scan…like you said.” Marcus informs me after a few minutes of back and forth with the doctor whose name I still don’t know.

  He approaches me without speaking and performs an examination, occasionally asking Marcus questions, don’t these people believe in translators? I know in general what he’s looking for and what he’s doing, maybe Marcus has told him I’m a nurse, who knows? I wonder what kind of story he’s telling this man. It must be something really good because there are no signs of suspicion from doctor no name. We are left alone, I wonder where Elena and Enrique have gone. “They went for coffee.” he says out of the blue without looking at me.

  How he knows what I’m thinking all the time I don’t know but it’s getting a little bizarre. “I know what you’re thinking, they aren’t formal about translators here and I know what’s wrong with you so I explained the problem, he orders the tests and if it’s all good we go home.” Well isn’t that neat and tidy? This shit wouldn’t fly in the states, no way.

  I’m tired though and actually feeling a little better, my throat isn’t as swollen and my headache was wiped out the second Marcus slid into the bed naked behind me a couple hours ago. Going home sounds like an excellent idea, where ever “home” is. A young woman comes to the room with a wheelchair and we load up and head out for the test. I want to say something to Marcus about his end of this deal, my proof, but I don’t know where the hell my paper has gone off to.

  We enter a small room with lockers and the nurse says something to Marcus, I assume she is telling him he can wait outside while I change into a gown. He’s not having any of it and after a few rather stern words to the poor woman she leaves us and he helps me change. Really? I am capable of doing this myself but I chalk it up to guilt and let him do his thing. “I like to help you.” he says as if he were commenting on my last thought. I sigh with exasperation, my mind reading babysitter is at it again.

  The next few moments are complete deja vu in reverse. Not that long ago I was changing Marcus into a hospital gown for a CT of his brain. “You don’t have a bra or panties, why is that?” I turn to face him after he ties the back of my gown rather tightly closed and he presents me with the paper and pencil that he’s been hoarding. I write. Where is my phone? And I was in a hurry. He reads. “You were in such a hurry you couldn’t put on panties and a bra?” Interesting that he ignored the part about my phone. I write. It’s a long story. Phone? “I have your phone, why do you want it? And what kind of long story could there be about no panties or bra?”

  He's kind of irritating me now, what is he the underwear police? I write. I could text you much easier than this fucking paper and pencil. And YES long story! He's frustrated now too, good! He reaches into the pocket of his coat and hands me his phone. “Use mine, I want to know the long story.” Good grief…I text him a message as if I were sending it to myself. Dr. Bava and Elena were taking care of me I knew they wouldn’t allow me to leave the house in my condition, I had to grab whatever clothes were available and run into the bathroom to dress and then I demanded they take me to you? Happy now? I hand him the phone and after reading my message he actually looks relieved, does he really think some sort of infidelity occurred between the time he nearly strangled me to death and when I found him in that closet?

  When he looks up at me I roll my eyes and the nurse returns as if on cue and whisks me away for my scan, Marcus right on her heels. He can’t possibly think he needs to be in the room with me for this, can he? Yes he can. I’m surprised when he doesn’t follow us into the cold room occupied by only the big CT scanner. The nurse assists me to the chilly table top, I lay down and place my head in the half circle piece of foam. I think she wants to tell me to hold still but isn’t sure how so I try to convey that I will with my eyes. She must be satisfied because she's leaving me alone. Next I hear a voice through the intercom. “Are you comfortable?” a voice with a thick Italian accent asks and I nod yes. “Please try to be still during the scan.” the voice says and I refrain from nodding to prove I understand.

  The table begins to slide through the doughnut hole slowly, clicking and whirring, and I close my eyes and try to relax and stay still. When it’s over my nurse returns and is helping me off the table. I glance over through the glass window where the operator of the massive machine sits, and next to him relaxed and leaning back in his chair as if he belongs there is Marcus, I’m not even surprised. I hope this guilt thing or whatever it is, is over soon. I’m feeling a little smothered and overwhelmed.

  Back in the locker room I hustle to dress myself before he can make it back and thankfully I succeed. I jump at the click of the door when he returns a few minutes later. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” There is so much more meaning behind those words than just a casual apology for startling me. Our eyes lock, he stands in the door and I sit in a completely unnecessary wheelchair, in my opinion.

  He holds me captive in those green eyes for a moment and I mouth to him the words “I know.” I wish I had a way to tell him I know it wasn’t him, that he needs no forgiveness because he hasn’t done anything wrong. But even with my voice I wouldn’t be able to make him see. He’s going to welcome any pain, guilt or misery related to this incident forever. That is, in fact, my biggest fear right now…that he’s going to try to end this because of today. That he’s giving up, lost hope.

  I’ll have to summon the strength to fight for both of us then, giving up isn’t an option in my book…giving up would be a double suicide. We can’t live without each other, there’s no going back, only forward.

  Chapter 11

  Back in our little corner of the E.R., doctor no name tells Marcus that my CT scan is within normal limits. Elena and Dr. Bava have joined us and I’ve never felt like such an outsider as they all discuss my condition amon
gst themselves in Italian. Finally, I poke Marcus hard in the arm, which hurts me much more than my intended effect on him, and I motion for his phone.

  He hands if over and the others quiet down as I text. I’d like to know in ENGLISH what the fuck is going on please! Marcus reads and I see the tinniest smile pass over his face before he translates to them and turns to me. “Dr. Dioli is asking about your medical history, he could tell from the scan you have had a lot of injuries and surgeries, he was concerned.” I feel the color drain from my face and a chill runs through me, sometimes I forget my body is able to tell my secrets when seen on the inside, pins, screws, implants to replace shattered bones the list goes on and on.

  Marcus slips his fingers through mine. “I told him you were mugged as a teenager, nothing else, I promise, he accepted the story.” I text. Thank you for not telling anyone. He reads and scowls. “Of course.” he says sounding insulted, or hurt I’m not sure which. A few more minutes of paperwork and we’re out of there and on our way home. Marcus tells me we aren’t going back to Aunt Angelica’s, he only wanted to show me where she lived and hadn’t intended on staying there long.

  Now we are going to Marcus’s house on Lake Como, this ought to be interesting. I don’t know why I was surprised, it seems no matter how much wealth I’m exposed to around this man it still blows my mind. It’s late and it’s dark but lights line a path up a drive to another piece of real estate that is worthy of a much grander title than “house”.

  It looms on a hill to our left and Lake Como spreads out on the right. When we exit the car I can hear the water lapping against the rocks and a chilly breeze blows across my face taking my breath away. “Let’s get you inside.” Elena says and again my knight in shining armor sweeps me off my feet. “Good God Marcus she can walk you know.” she says rolling her eyes at him while he completely ignores her.

  I look over his shoulder when she begins following us and shrug and give her my most exasperated look. She smiles at me and Dr. Bava chuckles bringing up the rear. The entrance to the house reminds me of The White House. It’s surrounded by white pillars and a small terrace above that must walk out to a breathtaking view of the lake during the day.

  I’m surprised to be greeted by Carmen and Mr. Black, does he always travel with an entourage? “I plan on staying here for a while, I thought you would be more comfortable with familiar staff.” he says answering my unspoken question, again. I smile at Carmen and she smiles back relieved to see us. Mr. Black nods his head in my direction and I give him a small wave, more than he deserves if you ask me. I’m still a little miffed at him for not being on top of things in Seattle and allowing some nut case into the house.

  I try to look around a little but Marcus is focused on getting me to bed and offers no tour on our way up a winding staircase to the second floor and into, of course a ridiculously lavish bedroom. No canopy bed here, that’s a first, this bed is, as usual, enormous but it has a headboard that is covered with thick plush quilted padding in dark blue. In fact, the whole room has a color scheme of blues and very dark wood. A strange straying from purple but very masculine.

  “Your things are in the bathroom.” he points to a door to the right of the bed. “Clothes in the closet there.” he points to a set of double doors. “And a dresser in the closet is full of panties and bras.” he says this pointedly as if I were a regular ditcher of underthings. Sitting me on the edge of the bed he moves gracefully around the room switching on lamps and into the closet I assume to get me something to wear to bed. I take off my boots, I have a feeling I’ll never see them again, he will probably burn them the first chance he gets.

  The bandages on my feet could use changing or at least removing as they are loose from putting the boots on and off all day. I scoot back onto the bed and begin unraveling them, the cuts sting but already they feel better. Marcus returns with a silk nightgown, panties and my phone, oh thank God my phone.

  I’ve felt so detached from the rest of the world, now I can finally text my family, or anybody else I need to communicate with since it’s the only way I can for now. “Stay right there, I’ll get a first aid kit and take care of your feet.” I nod and power up my phone first checking for any texts I’ve missed, none, weird, I would have thought someone would have been wondering about my whereabouts, especially Lana. Marcus is very thorough; he must have contacted everyone I’ve ever known. I sigh and set it on the bed next to me.

  Marcus returns with the most elaborate first aid kit I’ve ever seen in my life. I mouth “wow” to him “I have to be ready for anything.” he answers. Like what, heart surgery? I want to ask. “I don’t like hospitals, if I need anything I’d rather the physician come to me, this way he has everything he needs.” Hmmm ok, makes sense, I guess. Then, I remember I’ve not had my half of our deal fulfilled and I pick up my phone.

  Where’s my proof? I tap him on the top of his head while he is crouched down wrapping my feet in fresh gauze and show him the screen. “In the morning, I want you to have a good night’s sleep, it’s been a terrible day Imani, please?” I blink and retreat a little, taken aback by his use of the word please and I instantly cave. Ok. I text and he nods in approval finishing up my feet.

  When he has me dressed and tucked in like a five year old he still hasn’t made any indication that he is coming to bed so I pat the empty place next to me and raise my eyebrows in question. “I have some work to do, I’ll be right down the hall if you need me, third door on the left when you go into the hall. Keep your phone and text me if you want.” I nod and he turns all the lights but the one on the night table next to me off, he still doesn’t like the dark.

  Marcus slips his hand into his pocket and brings out a prescription bottle, my prescription bottle, it’s my sleeping pills. “I forgot to ask if these were safe after…after what happened today.” He says with his voice replete with regret. I hold out my hand, I’ll never sleep without them so safe or not I’m taking them. “Are you sure?” he hesitates with the pills and I snap my fingers and open my palm wiggling my fingers impatiently. He hands them over and I swallow my only hope for sleep.

  Leaning down to kiss me softly on the lips I suddenly have a wave of panic and reach for my phone on the bed next to me with one hand and grab his wrist keeping him there with the other. You’re not going to disappear are you? You won’t leave me? He reads my message and calmly sits facing me on the edge of the bed with no expression. “I won’t lie to you Imani I considered it. I think it’s dangerous for us to be together until we get something figured out. But I simply can’t. I’ve brought in more staff and informed security to be within 20 feet of us at all times in case something happens again, I don’t want you helpless.”

  Okay well that seems reasonable, I think, while possibly recovering from a minor heart attack hearing him say it’s dangerous for us to be together. “Ok? Can you sleep now?” I nod yes but before he escapes I pull him to me again for another kiss, the air around us is supercharged with desire. I have no control when it comes to Marcus. The soft gentle kiss turns into something more, something intense almost desperate and tears spring to my eyes as our mouths collide and our hands are everywhere, he groans and pulls away popping our pleasure bubble.

  “Baby you have to sleep, I’m not going anywhere but down the hall to my office I promise. Now sleep.” he orders with a resonance that rules me. All worked up and no one to share it with I’m disappointed but I also know he’s right, he’s always right damn it. He places one last soft kiss on my forehead and I admire his fine backside as he strolls away from me and through the door leaving it open, always open.

  Chapter 12

  Being startled awake brings my heart straight into my throat, and with only a hoarse rasp as an attempt to scream my panic is compounded. “Ms. Jefferson I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please wake up though it’s imperative we make sure you are safe.” Safe? Mr. Black? What the hell is going on, where am I? I try to focus in the dim light but my mind is thick with sleep
and medication.

  “Miss, please you need to come with us.” Mr. Black urges me again. I have no idea what he’s talking about and I search the sheets with one hand for my phone while he and another man I can’t see in the shadows wait for me to make some sort of decision. A few seconds of rooting around in the bed, keeping my eyes on Saint I find it and show it to him. “Ok you can bring your phone but we need to get out of here.” He reaches for me and I shrink away and text. What’s going on? Where is Marcus? Who’s that with you? And where are we going? I pass the phone to him and he scans it quickly.

  “Marcus is having…an episode…he’s instructed us to take you to a safe area in this instance, Elijah is with me and we have an area of the house used for...oh just please come Imani it’s not safe here.” Elijah is here? When did that happen? Ok, I am really suspicious now, first of Mr. Black pulling me out of bed in the night and second, what is this about Marcus' episode? Third, what place is any safer than right here? Elijah steps forward into the light from the night table lamp.

  “Imani please, I’ll explain in a minute we need to go!” Elijah says in a loud exaggerated whisper. “Ok.” I croak, hey I can make a noise, finally! I push back the heavy duvet and grab a silk robe Marcus had left at the foot of the bed earlier, slip it on and side step both men when they try to guide me to the door. I’ll go but on my own terms. I motion Saint to exit first and Elijah to follow but Elijah won’t budge. “Imani I have to be behind you, it’s for your own protection.” Rolling my eyes I pass by him and he closes the door with a click that echoes down the long hall.

  I have zero familiarity with this place so I blindly follow Mr. Black down the stairs and then I hear him, he’s yelling and breaking glass, Marcus, shit what’s going on? I stop abruptly and Elijah bumps into me. “Shit, sorry.” I turn and face him toe to toe raising my eyebrows in question to him but he turns me around by my shoulders and guides me forward moving us away from Marcus. His yelling gets less and less audible as we enter a den.