Captive: a Paranormal Romance

by Marisol Logan

  He held up his hand, revealing a drink. Something colorful and adorned with a chunk of pineapple.

  “Wanna come up to the booth?” he asked, tilting his head and offering the drink. “I see you here every few weeks for your girls' nights, and I have just been working up the guts to talk to you since Christmas.”

  My stomach fluttered. I was terrible at talking with guys. And Ted was hot. I was sure I'd get up there and immediately say or do something awkward or nerdy and that would be that. But, I thought, at least I'd get a free drink out of it. I took the cocktail and Ted took my hand, leading me through undulating, oscillating crowd of dancers.

  The booth above the dance floor was dark, and really the only light in it was coming from Ted's laptop screen and a very small desk lamp.

  “Well, this is it,” he said, gesturing to the tiny booth. “Any recommendations?”

  “Ooh,” I squealed, “the new Justin Beiber song!”

  “Ha!” he laughed. “I think half the guys will leave the floor for drinks. So, hey, I guess you might be on to something.”

  I sipped the fruity drink, and it was a bit too sweet for my tastes—it tasted like somebody had mixed pineapple juice with birthday cake vodka and raspberry liquor. I grimaced.

  “Too sweet?” Ted asked, matching my grimace, and he looked just as sexy with a grimace as he did with a smile—plush, pouty lips and sparkling, straight teeth; a square face with gentle cheekbones and a little cleft in his chin. He was tan and had perfectly styled black hair, slicked back with some kind of gel that smelled like wintergreen. And, through his thin, designer-looking t-shirt, I could see the outlines of his pecs and biceps, mounds of muscle that looked like he spent hours daily in the gym to maintain.

  I couldn't tell this specimen of man, smiling in adoration at me, that the drink he'd offered me was too sweet. I corrected the grimace on my face to a smile.

  “It's a shock from the beer, but it's delicious,” I said. “I love pineapple.” I took another drink to sell it.

  “Good,” he said. “So, what do you do?”

  “I'm a dental assistant,” I answered. “I'm kind of on-the-job training at my Aunt's office—she's a dentist. But I'm going to school to get my hygienist certificate so I can do more. And get paid more.”

  “Ah, yeah, that's the important part.”

  “How did you become a DJ?”

  “Well, I went to school for theater—”

  “Oh my gosh, that's so awesome!” I squealed.

  “It was pretty cool,” Ted laughed, eying my face curiously. “But, uh, I started mixing music for the dance program at my college for extra money, and then they threw this charity thing that they want me to live mix for, and then they kept asking me to come DJ other events, and that was kind of that.”

  “Pays to get in with the ballerinas, huh?” I quipped.

  “I guess so,” he laughed. “Hey, it's your song. Wanna dance?”

  “In here?” I asked, cocking my head at him. “It's so cramped up here.”

  “Well, then we'll be extra close,” he said, dropping his voice into a seductive drawl.

  Again, my stomach fluttered with nerves, and this time with a bit of excitement. I stood and was immediately dizzy.

  “Whoa,” he said, placing a hand on my waist to steady me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Just tipsy.”

  We started dancing, his one hand still on my waist, the other starting to explore my body. We were pressed up against each other in the small booth and hardly able to move much besides our hips and small shuffles of our feet.

  Suddenly both of his hands worked their way around to my butt and grabbed it firmly, and he lowered his head down to my ear and nibbled its lobe lightly.

  “Oh-kay,” I laughed, starting to get dizzier by the second. “Getting a little handsy, Ted.”

  Without a word, he spun me around and secured me against the back wall of the small dark booth. My heart started pounding and my blood went hot with adrenaline—the bad kind. I had gotten myself into a bad situation. I could feel it.

  His lips plunged against my neck and I felt his hands on my breasts, groping forcefully.

  I pushed him off, but I was weak, too dizzy from a full night of drinking. Or maybe it was just that last drink that had done it...

  “Did you put something in my drink?” I slurred. I doubt it was even intelligible, and he ignored it anyway, continuing his assault on my neck and his forcible groping, but now one of his hands started working its way down.

  “Hey!” I yelled, and tried to push him off again. This time was even weaker and my vision went blurry. Quickly, I reached into my back pocket for my phone, but he noticed me do it and slapped the phone out of my hand. I squeaked in protest as the phone clattered to the ground and tumbled down the steps that led into the booth.

  I fumbled to push his hands away from me, but he pinned them both behind me with one of his, and started to work his free hand down the front of my pants, planting his lips over mine so I couldn't make any noise.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Amy's voice sounded from the steps.

  Ted jumped and let me go, rounding on Amy.

  “This is the DJ booth and it's private,” he snapped. “Get out!”

  “Well, that is my best friend and she's private, too, so get your damn hands off of her!” Amy yelled.

  “She wanted to come up here,” Ted argued.

  “Yeah, maybe she did, but I'm pretty frickin' sure you didn't ask her if she wanted to do anything else,” she snarled. “C'mon, Al.”

  I grabbed my purse from where I had set it on the floor and lurched out of the booth, practically falling down the stairs I was stumbling so badly. Amy grabbed me and managed to steady me, grabbing my face in her hand and studying my eyes.

  “You drugged her?!” she shouted.

  Several nearby heads snapped to attention. 'Drugged' was a serious trigger word in night clubs. Two women who looked older than myself and Amy, and their bodybuilder-looking best friend sidled over toward the situation, looking very concerned.

  “Can we help you ladies?” one of the women asked.

  “There's been a misunderstanding,” Ted snapped.

  “Has there?” the body builder man sneered with plenty of sass. “Because I saw something very similar to this happen at the Valentine's Bash three weeks ago. Right here. With you.”

  Ted fumed. “I bought her a drink. How was I supposed to know that it would be too much for her.”

  My head spun and I collapsed forward, and the man rushed to hold me up, apparently thinking Amy could no longer support my weight if it went dead.

  “I think we should file a report,” one of the ladies said.

  “With the police?” Ted laughed. “You have no proof of anything. Good luck.”

  “No, with the bar,” the lady snapped. “I'm friends with the owner, and I know she won't look too kindly on her DJ giving the place a bad name.”

  “And we can take her to the police station right now and get a tox screen, you shithead,” Amy threatened, jabbing a finger in his chest.

  “I don't think you'll get another DJ gig in Highdale Park for a long time,” the other woman said.

  I missed the rest of the conversation, as the dizziness and blurriness became to much for me to handle. I collapsed in the bodybuilder's arms, and all the muffled talking and the pounding music stopped.

  I woke up on my couch feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. I sat up slowly to see Amy sitting at the far end of my sectional watching TV.

  “There is water and a plate of crackers on the table,” she said. “Glad to see you awake.”

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Um, four?” she answered, looking for her phone. She grabbed it off the arm of the couch. “Four fifteen.”

  “Oh my god,” I flopped my head back down on the pillow. “What a nightmare.”

  “I can't believe that happened!” she sighed. “I mean, I know
it happens, but—we specifically hang out outside of downtown to avoid that kind of crap. And the DJ?! I mean, makes me wonder how many time he's gotten away with it.”

  I shuddered, and so did Amy, and I sat up to take several gulps of water and eat a cracker.

  “I hate men,” I groaned.

  “I hear ya,” Amy said.

  “You should go home, or at least get some sleep here,” I said. “I'm sure I'll be fine.”

  “I'll just sleep here,” she said, snuggling down into her pillow and blanket “I probably shouldn’t drive yet.”

  “Good point,” I yawned and laid my head back down, too. “What on earth are we watching?”

  “I don't know,” she said. “Some British show about royal people who are actually werewolves, or something.”

  “That guy is hot,” I muttered when the show zoomed in on a handsome, shirtless British man.

  “I thought you hated men,” Amy teased, her voice muffled from her cheek on the pillow.

  “I do,” I groaned. “Sometimes.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The next day I tried to lay in bed as long as possible after Amy left. But, my brain wouldn't let me forget that I had hours of studying to do before I picked up Carly from her dad's house at four. And, I'd have to make dinner, and Sunday was always a bath night, so I wasn't likely to get much time to study until after she was in bed, at which point I'd probably be tired and not very studious.

  I showered and dressed quickly and packed up my books and drove to the little bistro between my house and Casey's that served the best brunch in town, and ordered eggs Benedict and the drink they called their 'hangover cure'—a club soda with cucumber, lemon, mint, a splash of cold-pressed kale and some cranberry juice—and started studying. I crammed my head full of info and jotted notes like wild, ordering a frozen coffee with an extra shot of espresso and a spinach asiago bagel after I had been there for over three hours. I didn't want them to resent me taking up the table, even though they seemed to have a lot of studiers and readers at all hours of business.

  I continued to study all the way up until it was time to go get Carly, and my brain felt a little like mush. I was finally getting to the section of this semester's course that focused on procedures I hadn't had any hands-on training with and it was all bogging me down pretty fast. I'd have to ask Aunt Melinda if I could sit in on a few, if they came up over the next few weeks, because I was definitely a better learner in the field.

  I knocked on the door at Casey's, marveling for a moment at how sunny and pleasant it was for early March in the Midwest. I figured we'd have a few more weeks of gray skies and miserable wind, but it seemed like a late spring, near summer day today. Maybe I should have studied outside, I thought, just as Casey opened the door.

  “Hey,” he said, short of breath and panting.

  “What are you two up to?” I asked slowly, eying him with a smirk.

  “Um, I was the turtle from the Nemo movies, and she was Dory,” he said through his heavy breaths.

  “So basically horsey rides?” I asked, stepping into the house.

  “Yep, exactly horsey rides,” he said, nodding fervently. “For an hour.”

  “Oh my god,” I laughed. “Well, there's your workout for a few days.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” he chuckled. “Carly, pack your back and get your shoes on!” he yelled up the stairs.

  “Okay!” her little voice beamed down to the foyer.

  “How was girls' night out?” Casey asked, finally getting his breath back to normal.

  “It was...” I trailed off, not really wanting to talk about it.

  “It was...?”

  “Fine. It was fine.”

  He eyed me carefully. “It doesn't sound fine. Did you and Amy argue or something?”

  “No, no. That's not it.”

  “So there's an 'it',” he pressed.

  “I don't want to talk about it,” I said, shaking my head.

  “You can talk to me, Alex,” Casey said. “We're friends, right?”

  “Yeah, we're friends, I just—it was dumb, and I'm embarrassed.”

  “Well, it must have been something if you're still distraught about it and ruined girls' night,” he said. “Usually you're in such a good mood afterward.”

  I sighed. “There was a guy,” I started nervously. “I—he gave me a drink and I was flattered. But I shouldn't have drank it. I mean, how stupid am I?” Everything came spilling out to him in a rushed, raspy current of words. “I knew as soon as we were dancing that something was wrong, and then he just immediately started getting handsy with me—”

  “Whoa, whoa whoa,” Casey interrupted, holding his hands out in front of him like a pause button. “Are you saying someone drugged you and tried to force themselves on you last night?”

  “I mean, yes, he put something in my drink, but it didn't get that far. Amy found me when he slapped my phone to the ground—”

  “This is unbelievable,” he growled, pacing the foyer.

  “Well, it's over and thank goodness nothing happened,” I said.

  “That's not good enough,” Casey said. “Are you pressing charges?”

  “No,” I said. “I—nothing happened besides the drink and some groping.”

  “The intent was obvious, Alex,” Casey snapped. “This guy belongs behind bars so it doesn't happen to somebody else.”

  “There was a lady there who said she was going to get him fired from the club—jeez, Casey, why is this bothering you so much? It happened to me.”

  “Because I can't stand the thought of—” he cut off quickly, when he realized how much his volume had increased, then lowered his voice and started again. “I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you, okay? And I get this angry because...because I should be out there with you. Protecting you from this kind of shit.”

  “Well, first of all,” I sighed, “that's not possible for you. And secondly, I can take care of myself. I don't need a man to protect me.”

  “The events of last night beg to differ,” Casey grumbled.

  I exhaled loudly in frustration. “Okay, fine, Casey,” I said. “You want me to go get a boyfriend who can play bodyguard to me all day? Huh? Is that what you want?”

  “That's not what I meant,” he said.

  “Because I have a list of messages on this stupid dating app Amy put on my phone and I'm sure one of them would be more than happy to be the knight in shining armor to my damsel-in-distress, since that's what you think of me.”

  “I didn't say that, Alex,” he argued.

  “Or, you know, maybe they'll all just put roofies in my drinks, too, and have their way with me!” I yelled. “How am I supposed to know, huh? Obviously I can't trust anyone. So no, I don't think I'm really going to go out looking for a boyfriend right now. Not after what happened last night.”

  “Hey, hey,” Casey said, rubbing my arms comfortingly. “I didn't mean that. And you're right, if you don't think you can trust a man right now, then don't go looking for one. You don't need anyone to take care of you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything that implied that.”

  “Then why did you?” I sighed.

  “I don't know,” he shrugged. “I'm just worried about you—you and Carly, all the time. I think about you all the time and just wish...I mean, even though you don't need it, I wish I could be there for you. More than I am able to be.”

  “I wish that, too,” I said softly. “I wish you could come to the zoo with us. Or—oh, Carly wants to take a karate classes this spring.”

  “My daughter? My daughter wants to take karate?” Casey asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Her friend Aubrey from daycare takes it, and they play ninja princesses pretty much all day everyday, from what I'm told.”

  “Ninja princesses? That is insanely awesome,” Casey laughed, as his thumbs ran over my forearms. We both seemed to realize it was happening at the same time, and he let my arms go nervously.

  “She's pretty excited but she
has to wait until she's four,” I said. “She's going to have belt tests and parent nights, and...” I felt a lump form in my throat and my eyes dropped to the floor. I hated thinking about all the things he missed and would miss. Carly seemed to understand, but, maybe one day she wouldn't. They were very close, and I could just feel it in my heart that as she grew older, it would hurt her more and more that he couldn't be a bigger part of her life.

  “Hey,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders this time and angling his face to look into my eyes. “I will come to her first belt test. I promise. If she wants me there, I will be there.”

  “But, Casey—”

  “No,” he said. “It's important to you, and that's enough for me. And I'm sure it will be important to her. As soon as we know when it is, I'll start the treatments, and we'll be fine.”

  “What will Ruby and Rex say?” I asked nervously.

  “I don't know. But I haven't been out of the house since...that night,” he said, his face going soft and his eyes locking with mine. My chest grew tight at the mention of 'that night'. Our night. Our only night. “So, y'know, I think I'm due.”

  I nodded and blew my exhale through pursed lips.

  “You take care of yourself,” he said, feeling my muscles under his grip with a look of concern. “I'm serious. You're wound pretty tight, Miss Jensen.” He grabbed my shoulders firmly and started massaging them with his thumbs. “Geez, woman, turn around.”

  “No, you don’t have to—I should get Carly from her room and head home,” I protested.

  He spun me around halfway and took my shoulders back under his firm grip, digging his thumbs into my tight, knotted muscles. They yielded immediately to his strong touch, the knots resisting, but then quickly breaking to the will of his powerful thumbs. I squirmed against the discomfort of the pressure on the knots, but the deep massage did feel amazingly good.

  I felt his body move in a step closer to my back as he shifted the position of his left hand to focus on my lower back, just along the bottom of my ribcage. He hit a sensitive knot with his thumb and my back arched as a reflex. He didn't relent, pressing on the knot until broke and released and the entire muscle relaxed. A moan of approval sounded from my throat and I bit my lip, savoring the warm relief feel in my shoulders and back from Casey's work.