Page 27 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Kept

I ’m hours into this daydream, watching the sky darken outside when there’s a knock at my door, and I roll my eyes. What a joke. I’m locked in, and cameras are probably rolling all day and night. Knocking feels like a strange formality anymore.

“I can’t exactly let you in,” I say, setting my hair brush on the dresser. Today already feels like it’s been too long. I’m drained from the lack of sleep, worrying about my cat, and missing my anniversary with Eric. Now guilt is creeping in about what had happened this morning with Noah.

Eric cheated on you.

If Noah’s to be believed, I’ve been deceived completely by my husband. All those times I’d felt bad for the wives of his friends, knowing their husbands stepped out on them and didn’t hide it? How foolish I’d been. Mine just wore a better mask than the others.

The door opens, and Noah’s frame fills the door.

He’s changed, the worn jeans and simple black t-shirt not distracting from the artwork on his arms. A black and white montage starts at his fingers and winds its way up his bicep, disappearing under the sleeve.

I see what looks like branches peeking out the top of the shirt collar, and I wish I could study the tattoo in its entirety.

“I can take the shirt off if you want,” Noah says, his voice low and a smirk on his face.

My head jerks back at the accusation, unsure how to respond. Everything he says manages to somehow sound both vulgar and teasing, leaving me to search for the intention behind them. I lick my lips. “Are you taking me to Bo now?”

He nods, motioning for me to follow and I scramble out of the bed, giddy at the thought of seeing something besides these four walls.

My room must be at the back of the house, my door the last in a hallway that stretches from one side to the other. Peeking in each one, I note there are four just like mine, with matching windows, furniture. The prisoners’ rooms, I assume.

The last one looks lived in, and I recognize Bo’s bag and clothes tossed around. He’s always been a messy guy. Books are piled on the dresser and there’s a table for puzzles in the corner. One looks half-completed.

He’s wasted no time making himself at home. He’s also notably absent .

“Have you been letting him around the house?” I ask.

Noah looks down at me, and nods.

We reach a spiral, metal staircase and he motions for me to go first. I assume he’s not going to push me down so I step in front of him, circling down until the first floor appears.

It’s the room we saw when our blindfolds were removed that first day.

I’d been so panicked then that I hadn’t been able to take in my surroundings, but I’m taken aback by the coziness of it.

It feels like a home. The fireplace is empty, seeing as how it’s not gotten cold yet, but it’s circled by large chairs and warm-colored wood along the floors that match the beams across the ceiling.

I take it in greedily, soaking it up after being stuck in my concrete block for…a week? Maybe longer?

“Emma!” I hear him before I feel him, picking me up in his arms and crushing me in a hug, my feet dangling in the air.

“Can’t. Breathe,” I squeak out, and he loosens his hold, setting me down. I take in Bo’s wide grin and sparkling eyes desperately, the sight of him the first relief I’ve felt since arriving.

“Sorry, it’s easy to forget how breakable you are. ”

I peek behind him to see Jesse’s signature green locks from where he’s stretched across the couch, asleep. He looks much less scary that way.

“I missed you so much,” I say, looking back at Bo as Noah moves to a kitchen tucked into the corner on the far side of the room. “So…what’s happening here? You look…good. You look good . Why do you seem so happy?” I whisper.

Guilt seeps into his facial expression, and he tugs my arm, so that I follow him to a couch where he pulls me down to sit next to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been asking them to bring you out, I swear. They just weren’t sure how you were going to react, or what you were going to do.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t considered running away? Bo, we’ve been kidnapped. These are our literal captors,” I whisper-hiss at him. “They dragged us out of the bank and blindfolded us, did you forget that?”

He nods, his tongue flicking out nervously to wet his lips.

“I do, okay? I know. I know its fucking crazy. Look at me, a lot of things are happening here. True. But a lot of things are happening at home also. I just…” He sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“I just don’t know how much I want to go back. ”

I pin him with a frustrated glare. “You want to stay with them? Have you lost your mind? Why? Because of your hookup?” I cover my mouth for a moment to hide the tremble of emotion in my voice.

This makes no sense. “Bo, there are other people out there, anybody would be lucky to be with you. I don’t understand. ”

He shakes his head, “Listen I don’t want to get into it right this second, but I know they’ve told you something. I know they’ve given you information about how things are not fucking right with Eric.”

He stares at me earnestly, like he’s trying to read my brain. What does he know? It’s like I’m talking to a different person. It’s the same friendly, excited Bo but he’s talking in a way I can’t wrap my head around.

It’s disconcerting. I’d hoped finding him would bring some kind of comfort, familiarity. But here’s my best friend explaining calmly why he doesn’t want to leave the house we’ve been stashed into against our will.

“I—yes. But, I don’t understand anything they hint at, Bo. Nothing makes sense right now.” Tears are welling in my eyes, the sadness starting to balloon into panic. I can’t lose him.

“Hey,” he says, rushing forward to pull me in for a hug. “Remember that very first time Eric was out of town and I stayed at the house? And we drank too much wine and slept on the couch?”

I nod, a small laugh bubbling up through my fear. “I remember.”

He rubs my back. “Do you remember what I told you that night?”

I press my lips together, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “You said you’d always keep me safe. It didn’t make sense then. There was nothing to keep me safe from.”

He says nothing, rubbing my back. “Maybe. But I mean it now, too, okay? I swear, as your best friend, I wouldn’t say that I felt okay here if I didn’t mean it. They’re good people, Emma.”

I nod hesitantly, not wanting to fight now that we have each other. Instead I take his words in and decide to let myself sit with them. Not accepting, but at least listening. Jesse’s been good to Bo at the very least.

“Mmm, how do I get in on this,” a dark voice rumbles above us and Bo’s head is jerked back by a hand threaded into his curls.

He’s forced to look up at Jesse, who eyes the two of us pointedly before gazing down at Bo with heated eyes and biting his lip.

“Why don’t you properly introduce me to your friend, Bojangles? ”

Bo rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance but I can see the pleased way he peeks back at me. “Sorry. He’s not able to keep some thoughts to himself.”

His cheeks are flushed from the attention as we both eye Jesse sauntering over to where Noah prepares an early dinner.

“He can cook really well,” Bo adds, following my gaze. “He does it most nights. Have you guys—uhh…What’s the situation with yo u two?”

My eyes widen. “There’s no situation . He just…I don’t know. He kissed me,” I rush out, slapping my hand over my mouth.

Bo’s eyes widen, followed almost immediately by a sharp smile. “I fucking knew it!” he whispers in a way that feels like a scream.

Noah looks sideways to where we sit, noting the expression on our faces and his eyes narrow.

“Shut up!” I hiss, smacking his arm. “That’s not good! I’m married, remember?”

He starts to roll his eyes, but catches himself and tries to look sympathetic. “Right. Forgot.”

I sigh. “Noah told me that Eric was with Jesse’s sister. That’s why they don’t like him. Which would mean he’s been cheating on me, probably more than once.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, studying my face. I think he’s about to say something, when Jesse stalks back over, coming up behind us at the back of the couch and gripping it, leaning over the two of us.

We both look up at him. Me nervously, and Bo with stars in his eyes.

“Noah made food. Are you hungry?” he asks me. I nod, and Bo does the same when Jesse turns to him. “Good. Up to the table.”

His hand circles the back of Bo’s neck, squeezing slightly as he guides him to his chair. I walk slowly behind them, studying their dynamic. The way he’s handling Bo should concern me, probably. But the way he’s rubbing the spot at the back of his neck is soft.

They are so comfortable with each other’s touch.

It’s excessively attractive.

As soon as I think about it, I blink it away, turning instead to watch Noah as he plates our food. It smells amazing, pasta of any kind being my favorite. I scan the kitchen quickly, noting the professional setup. He looks at home in it.

I sit across from Bo, who winks at me, soothing my nerves. His foot nudges mine under the table and I swallow, nodding at him to show I’m okay.

But I’m not. I’m freaking out. My head is screaming with the attempt to process everything that’s happening. Access to the whole house, the scene this morning with both Jesse and Noah. Seeing Bo and Jesse so close, so physical. It’s just a lot.

I’m a captive. I keep repeating it in case I start to forget. I’m not supposed to be here. I should be at home with Eric.

The thought sinks heavily, and to be quite honest, I hate the feeling of it. It’s the sheltered part of me that would seek Eric’s familiarity now that everything feels alien. But is Eric even familiar now? Now that I know more ?

No, he’s not. He feels as much a stranger to me as the two men who own this house.