Captive: a Paranormal Romance

by Marisol Logan

  “See?” he murmured in my ear. “Tight.”

  He let go of me and I felt an odd surge of disappointment.

  “Thank you,” I said softly, turning back to him.

  “Take a hot bath tonight,” he instructed.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, with a mock salute. I heard Carly's little feet galloping out of her room toward the stairs.

  “And, you know you can talk to me any time,” he added. “If you're stressed, or...something happens. You have to get it off your chest or it goes to your shoulders. And back.”

  “Apparently,” I sighed.

  “Mommy!” Carly yelled with excitement as she came rushing down the stairs with her unicorn backpack on. “What's for dinner?”

  “Hey,” Casey declared, “your mother is not just a cook, remember?”

  “Oh I know she's not just a cook,” Carly said with an earnest nod. “Sometimes she's a drive-thruer, too.”

  Casey and I caught each others eyes above her and had to stifle our laughter, a little bit of mine escaping through my nose as an airy giggle.

  “Well,” I said, after I had regained my composure, “I was going to make Alfredo tonight. Does that sound good?”

  “That sounds delicious,” Casey chimed in.

  “Is that the red sauce or the white sauce?” Carly asked, curling her lip up in potential disgust, depending on my answer.

  “White,” I answered.

  “Good,” she said with a sharp nod. “But don't put broccoli in it!” she added sharply, shoving a tiny finger up toward my face.

  “Yeah, mom, don't put broccoli in it!” Casey joked, a wide smile across his slender, chiseled face.

  “You're not helping,” I sneered, facetiously. “I happen to love broccoli.”

  “Kale! Kale! Kale!” Carly demanded.

  “Oh, right, I forgot she loves kale,” Casey laughed.

  “I certainly haven't,” I groaned. “I have to put it in everything I cook. It's amazing we're not green.”

  Casey chuckled and bent down to hug and kiss Carly goodbye. “Well, you guys have a good night. Enjoy your kale Alfredo.”

  “Bye, Daddy,” she said. “Thank you for the Dory movie.”

  “You're welcome, sweetie,” he said, squeezing her tightly in his arms. “See you next week.” He stood up and pointed a finger at me. “Hot bath.”

  “You don't have to tell me twice,” I said as Carly and I made our way through the door. “I am not letting that massage go to waste.”

  CHAPTER 4

  After dinner and bath and putting Carly to bed, my lack of decent sleep from the previous night had caught up with me, and I couldn’t wait to get into Casey's mandated hot bath. I slipped into the steamy water and exhaled, long and slow, imagining my stress leaving my body.

  When I closed my eyes, I could still feel Casey's strong hands on me, massaging my muscles into relaxed jelly, and the intense warmth that had spread underneath my skin when his hands had achieved their goals of releasing the knots.

  My phone buzzed on the bath ledge next to me and I jumped out of my tranquil reminiscence. I dried my hand off quickly on a towel next to the tub, and picked up the phone to look at the screen.

  It was Casey. I answered.

  “Hi, Casey,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake Carly.

  “Hot bath?” he asked, his voice smooth, but also a bit playful.

  “Yes,” I answered. “Right now, actually.”

  “I figured,” he said. “Since Carly’s bedtime is eight.”

  “So, you specifically waited until I got into the bath to call?” I teased.

  “Maybe,” he said. “I mean, you're more likely to answer while you're relaxed in the bath than when you are on one of your late night study crams or cleaning benders.”

  “That is true,” I admitted.

  “I just...wanted to make sure you're okay,” he said, his voice turning concerned. “I can't even imagine how last night must have shaken you up, and I don't feel like I said anything that helped earlier.”

  “Don't worry about it,” I muttered. “I'm sure I'll be fine.”

  “I'm sure you will, too,” he said, his voice tender and just above a whisper. “You're the toughest person I know.”

  “Oh, I doubt that's true,” I argued. “And if it is, it's just because...”

  I trailed off, deciding my statement might be insensitive.

  “Because I don't know very many people,” Casey finished.

  I swallowed nervously. “Yes,” I said, immediately regretting that I had mentioned such a thing.

  “Look, I wanted to talk about Carly's birthday,” he said, completely changing the subject.

  “Okay.”

  “Do you think it's okay if we do what we've done the past three years?”

  “At your house?” I asked. “I don't know. I think she wants to go to that bouncy castle place with a few girls from preschool.”

  “That's great!” Casey said. “So, can we do a family party the weekend before her preschool party?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “Of course. She'll love that.”

  “You know, I just don't want to miss this stuff,” Casey sighed.

  “I know.”

  There was silence between us for several moments and my heart went out to him as it always did when I thought of his situation.

  “I was thinking I'd get Finding Dory and ocean decorations” he said. “She seems to be so into that lately.”

  “Of course, yeah, she'll love that.”

  “And I'll order food and a cake and all that, so you don't have to worry about anything.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you,” he said. “I mean, for being so accommodating. All the time. I know this is...hard for you.”

  I sighed. “I'm sure it's harder on you.”

  “I think the hardest part for me is that I've always had a very clear idea of what it should be like. What It could be like,” he said “If, y'know, I wasn't trapped in here.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said softly.

  “Alex...” he sighed.

  “Yes?”

  “If things were different, do you think...?” he trailed off, but I knew what he meant.

  Would we be together if he weren't stuck in his house?

  “I don't know,” I answered. “Maybe. It's a definite possibility.”

  “Just because of Carly?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “Because, you know, we cared about each other. We enjoyed each other. Maybe it was just teenage dreams, but it was something. And that's enough for some people.”

  “I would have loved to have been able to see if it was enough for us,” Casey murmured.

  My chest fluttered and I didn't know what to say. After almost five years, he'd never opened up to me like this or admitted any thoughts or feelings along these lines, other than the night that we made love. And made Carly...

  As I lay there in the warm water, letting his words consume me in silence, I realized I could still feel his hands on me—on my neck, and shoulders, and back. My free hand drifted up to my shoulder and my fingers twirled absent-mindedly around one of the spots where Casey had worked a knot out.

  I wished it were his hand, and my skin prickled suddenly.

  “Come to dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.

  I snapped to attention. “What?” I asked. “At your house?”

  “Yes,” he said, “at my house. My parents want to celebrate my raise, or something like that.”

  “Are you sure they'll be okay with us coming over?” I asked nervously.

  “They're celebrating my raise. I should be able to invite whomever I want, right?” Casey laughed.

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “And I want you,” he said. “I mean—I want you and Carly to have dinner with me. I want us to do more together. The three of us.”

  “Casey...” I sighed.

  “I'll figure it out, Alex, okay? Just—just come
to dinner and we can talk more?” he pleaded.

  “Sure,” I answered, something in his voice compelling me to agree. “Of course we will. Carly would love that.”

  “And you?” he asked.

  “I...I would love to spend more time, the three of us,” I stuttered. “But you know how your parents feel about me...”

  “Don't worry about them,” he assured. “Okay? I'll talk to them.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  There was a brief silence, and I heard his soft breath over the phone, instantly reminding me of his breath on my neck earlier that day, and my skin prickled again.

  “What time?” I asked, finally, suddenly eager to be near him again.

  “Six,” he answered in a smooth, breathless murmur. “See you then?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Good night, Alex.”

  “Good night.”

  “Dinner?” Amy asked, cocking her head at me while we sanitized the dental instruments my aunt had just used in her morning procedure. “Like, a date?”

  “No,” I corrected, “not a date. Like a family thing. His parents were going to do a celebratory type thing for the raise he just got, and he said he wanted me and Carly there.”

  “What's with the sudden desire to do things as a family?” Amy asked. “You guys have kept things pretty separate for the most part, besides birthday and Christmas stuff, right?”

  “I guess so,” I shrugged. “I don't know why he wants us to do more things together. Probably just that Carly is older now and he wants to see her more.”

  “And he wants to see you more,” Amy muttered.

  “I don't know what the point would be,” I said. “I'm not moving into that house.”

  “Couldn't they, like, move him to a different house, with a big plastic bubble or something?” Amy joked.

  “Ha!” I laughed. “I guess so, but then who will take care of him?”

  “He's an adult,” Amy rolled her eyes, “he can take care of himself, right?”

  “Ruby and Rex are always talking about all the things they have to do to the house to keep it safe for him, and the medications they give him, and they special order all kinds of foods and chemicals and cleaning products and—”

  “Alright, I got it,” Amy sighed. “I get the point. He's like one bad vacuum bag or sneezing delivery man away from dying.”

  “That's the way they make it sound,” I said.

  “You sound skeptical,” Amy pointed out.

  “Well, I mean, he's always seemed really healthy to me,” I explained. “I mean, he looks kind of exhausted some times, but that's really it. I've never seen him look or act like a sick person.”

  “Well, his parents must be doing a really good job with the vacuum bags and fancy food orders, then.”

  “I guess.”

  “It will be a shame when they kick the bucket.”

  “Amy!” I rasped.

  “I'm serious!” she defended. “They adopted him later in life, right? So they're getting up there and nobody else knows how to take care of him?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

  “What are you saying?” I grumbled.

  “I'm saying would you do it?” she asked.

  “I...I...” I stuttered. “I've never really thought of it.”

  “I mean, for your daughter to have her father around for her wedding, and her babies. For her children to have their grandfather at their graduation—”

  “Alright, I get it,” I said, mocking her previous words and tone.

  “And, you do like him,” Amy said.

  “Of course I like him, he's a very nice person,” I said.

  “No, I mean you like him,” Amy retorted.

  “What in the world would make you say that?” I asked, but I felt my cheeks flush and my hands go clammy.

  “Well, first of all, he's hot as hell, Alex, so if you're not crushing on him, you should be,” Amy said, pointing a dental mirror at my face. “Secondly, you should have heard your voice when you said 'So, I'm having dinner with Casey tonight, I guess',” she continued.

  “That didn't sound anything like me,” I smirked.

  “I do the best Alex Jensen voice ever, and you know it,” she teased.

  “Whatever,” I sighed, shaking my head at her, but unable to wipe away my smirk.

  We finished sanitizing the instruments, then went and cleaned the procedure room before we walked across the street to the sandwich shop for lunch. We talked about our classes, some television shows we both watched, and Amy talked about a hot guy she had met at her weight-lifting class. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about the things she had said.

  I had never considered what would happen to Casey when Ruby and Rex were gone, so I had never really considered what that would mean for Carly. Just the other day, I had been feeling so bad for Carly, knowing how limited his presence would be throughout her life. I hadn't even thought about what it would do to her if he wasn't a part of it at all.

  But could I do it? Could I take care of him? Did I want to? And what would that mean...for us? We'd be living together, raising a child completely together—we'd be like a married couple. Was that what I wanted? Was that what he wanted?

  We had no idea what we would be like together. We had flirted through some studying, shared some deep conversations and make out sessions five years ago, and lost our virginity to each other, but other than that, how well did we know each other? Were we even compatible? I wondered.

  And how would we find out? If we tried anything now, and it didn't work out, would we be sabotaging the nice, relatively easy co-parenting thing we had going on for the past almost four years? I heard my other single mom friends talk about their relationships with their kids' dads and I always felt beyond relieved that Casey and I had managed to stay so friendly and cooperative. I was positive it was healthier, not only for us, but especially for Carly. If we ruined that, by failing some attempt at compatibility, would we be hurting her? Would we be just be making everything worse?

  “Your sandwich alright?” Amy asked, a mouthful of chipotle turkey, her usual.

  “Yeah,” I said, “my sandwich is fine.”

  I took a bite of my tuna salad and tried to push back the thoughts about Casey, but knowing I had agreed to the dinner at his house made them more pressing. I knew the best option would be to just do the adult thing and talk to him about everything. But, I was never very good at that sort of thing. And the prospect of having that type of conversation with him made me nervous to be around him.

  At this point, I didn't have a choice—I had already told Carly we were going, and she was beyond excited for an extra night with Daddy.

  I was in a daze and lost in thought the rest of the work day, which was alright, since all I was doing was fluoride treatments, which were easy, and prepping trays for the next morning's root canal and filling procedures. When I finally got home, picking up Carly from daycare on the way, I had a knot in my stomach and was certain I wouldn't be able to actually eat anything at this dinner...

  CHAPTER 5

  I knocked on the door at five minutes 'til six.

  “Ring the doorbell, Mommy,” Carly said, holding my hand.

  Before I had the chance to respond, the door swung open and Casey stood in the threshold. He was smiling, but his eyes fell on me and his smile slowly vanished.

  “You look...amazing,” he said quietly.

  “I told her to wear that,” Carly said, rushing through the door and grabbing Casey around the legs.

  “Thanks,” I said nervously as I entered the house behind her. “It's—I bought it on Saturday. She saw it on the bed and told me to wear it.”

  In my shopping trip that Casey had insisted on, I had found some knee-length skirts on sale, and chosen a black one, and found a pearl-toned, flowing, half-sleeve blouse to go with it. I didn't think it was too dressy, but by Casey's face, you'd have thought I just walked in wearing a formal gown for the opera.

&
nbsp; He wore a long-sleeved, off-white shirt, the cotton of which was just thin enough that it was easy to see the definition of his lean, sinewy muscles, and the v-neck gave a preview of the sparse, but dark, patch of chest hair that sat between his pectorals that had he'd had since he was eighteen.

  “I also told her to wear the princess shoes, but she said her feet were tired,” Carly explained, dismissing me and my tired feet with a wave of her little hand as she made her way to the dining room.

  “Princess shoes?” Casey asked as we followed our daughter.

  “Stilettos,” I answered.

  “Ah, I see,” he laughed.

  Once in the dining room, Casey pulled out a chair with a booster for Carly.

  “What's for dinner?” she asked.

  “Salmon and asparagus and rice,” Ruby said as she brought in platters full of food.

  “Ruby, can I help you with anything?” I asked.

  “No, no,” she said. “Rex has the rest.”

  “You've worked all day,” Casey said, pulling out a chair. “Sit down, relax. Please.”

  I sat in the chair next to Carly, and he sat himself on the other side of her as Rex brought in the last few plates of food.

  “Don't worry, there's kale,” Casey whispered to Carly with a wink, and she giggled.

  “Wine?” Ruby offered as she seated herself across from Casey.

  “That sounds wonderful, but I really shouldn’t if I'm driving Carly home—”

  “You can relax here after,” Casey suggested, “for a bit. I mean, it'll be out of your system in an hour or so. We can watch some TV together, the three of us.”

  “Mommy, please?” Carly begged while Casey fixed her plate for her. “I want to watch Dory!”

  “Again?” I asked. “How many times did you watch Dory this weekend?”

  She shrugged dramatically with her hands out to the side. “I don't know.”

  Above her head, Casey held up six fingers, and everyone laughed softly.

  “But it's my favorite movie in the whole wide world!” she pleaded.