Page 43 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Kept

T hese days, the air outside bites with chill, but I’m so desperate to be out of my room that I don’t mind the cool shiver. Halfway through October, the woods are an absolutely gorgeous alternative to rotting in my room where cinder block walls cave in on me.

The sun can barely filter through the thick canopy of trees, but I’ve found a spot about a quarter mile from the house that has a clearing where I can lay down and let the sun beat down on my face.

Molly usually follows behind, her little tail flicking happily as she chases tiny moths through the grass.

The fact that Jesse has let me start going on little excursions tells me that they’re starting to trust me, but also that they probably have the land covered in cameras.

I think the decision to let me take myself on walks came when I started quietly returning to my room after breakfast instead of staying on the first floor.

I got tired of seeing the concern in Bo’s eyes, and the heavy stare of Jesse as I walked silently around the house.

Two weeks have passed with Noah barely speaking to me.

Two weeks since my birthday. Two weeks since he’d told me to ask nicely and he’d give me whatever I wanted. Since we’d taken things all the way.

I know it’s juvenile to say it like that, like I’m a lovestruck young girl instead of a grown woman. Number counts aren’t real, virginity is a construct, I get it. But to me? It meant something . And it had felt like it did to him too, he’d been right there with me.

Then nothing.

He was standoffish for a day, still acknowledging me but nothing overly friendly. Then something had happened and he’d changed, his personality switched. Nervous and irritated, and not just with me. He snapped at Jesse, and Bo smartly kept his distance.

I’d even gone to Jesse for insight on what I might have done to mess up the connection I thought I’d created with Noah, when the silent treatment had really started messing with me.

Jesse had petted my head, much like he does Bo, and sighed.

“Believe it or not, he’s just scared, Princess.

Things happened and he has to fixate on some work issues. ”

My brows furrowed and he laughed, smoothing the V between them with his thumb.

“Don’t worry, you and Bo are completely safe with us.

I just don’t want you to think he’s being a dick because you did something.

He’s a control freak, and sometimes those are the most fucked up people. I’ll talk to him.”

So I keep my distance, and every day drags like its own form of torture. When I can find the energy, I spend the morning with Bo, doing whatever he and Jesse are in the mood for. Still, sometimes the thought of leaving bed feels impossible, and I dig back under the cover and cocoon myself inside.

Molly stalks over and brushes her head against my neck, coercing me into scratching behind her ears.

For the millionth time, I consider how I should try to run.

Embarrassingly, the thought hadn’t entered my mind that first month.

But the longer Noah ignores me, the more the thought of escaping starts to fester.

The cameras are my biggest obstacle. He spends all his time now in the office room, staring at the monitors and watching. Sometimes I press my ear to the door and hear the sound of computers whirring, keys clicking and I know he’s just on the other side. Eternally working, barely stopping to sleep.

I don’t have shoes anyway, so it’s hard to take planning very seriously.

I know he felt what was between us that night.

There’s been a clear connection from the very first time I spotted him at the bank that first day, and it’s only gotten more evident.

Maybe that’s what scares him. Noah doesn’t seem like the type to play on my emotions to get me to sleep with him, just to drop me after.

Maybe I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I just can’t imagine him purposefully hurting me in that way.

Jesse’s right, there’s a stagnant, anxious energy in the cabin now.

It rolls off Noah in waves and it’s got me looking over my shoulder, jumping when I’m in the shower or in bed alone.

Sometimes, I catch him staring at me with a heavy expression before his eyes cut away.

The look is so clearly unhappy that I can’t even find pleasure that I must still be on his mind.

Maybe he regrets it. Maybe it wasn’t perfect for him like it was for me.

Surely he’s had his share of women, probably more experienced, more skilled at pleasing him.

Instead of me, a random girl with only one past partner—who I’m starting to believe had a kink for my purity.

It would explain why he kept everything missionary, so clean and boring .

Eric played up the whole innocence card by never giving me more —just sweet, gentle lovemaking.

I know now he was probably living out his fantasies with other women. Girls. Likely people who had been stolen into trafficking for men like him. It makes me physically sick to think about.

It's also caused me to never want to be handled like I’m a collectible souvenir ever again.

Noah was real. He was hands on . I knew he wanted me because he showed me, and demanded I show him back. On my knees. With my words.

I should stop torturing myself by replaying the moments we’ve had together over and over. That time in the shower, the first time he’d touched me. That raw night in the living room when the four of us got a taste of how good we feel together.

My birthday present, when I gave him the only thing I had left to offer.

My throat tightens. Somehow, I’m both desperately turned on—need throbbing in my lower stomach—while sorrow hardens my heart because he won’t give me the time of day.

The rejection cuts so much deeper than I would have ever believed possible.

Bo’s been going out of his way to try and improve my mood, and tonight he’s made my favorite dinner. Jesse’s at the counter with a landslide of dirty dishes surrounding the area he’s rolling meatballs at.

From the table, I watch in a fit of giggles as Bo tries to show him the best way to roll them. All Jesse can fixate on is Bo’s mouth as he speaks.

“If you tell me one more time how to roll the balls in my hands I’m going to shove you to the floor so you can show me for real,” he says, growling into his ear with a devilish smirk on his face.

Bo and me snicker, and the mood in the house lightens for the first time in weeks. Eventually, Jesse leaves Bo to his cooking and comes to sit across from me at the table. I look up from my book to see him placing his cigarette pack and lighter on the table and staring at me.

“Em, you ever smoked weed?”

My cheeks flush, knowing I’m about to be the target of another round of “goody two-shoes” jokes, something he’s grown partial to.

I shake my head and he grins.

“You wanna try? It might help you feel a little more chill.”

“I’m chill. I’m just reading before dinner.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically, then his piercing gaze locks on me again. “Don’t play dumb. You know you’ve been off. Let me show you something that can help.” He pops a brow in challenge. “Or are you scared ?”

I bristle. Something about Jesse makes you want to prove you’re not boring, that you can match his energy. “I’m not scared! I just…never had anyone show me before. ”

His grin widens and it’s honestly dazzling. “I love showing you new things. Now scoot over here and let me be your first.”

I blush for unknown reasons and I hear Bo sighing in the background. “Do you have to corrupt everyone around you?”

Jesse just peeks back at him. “Are you complaining about any of the filthy things I’ve shown you, Bodhi?”

Bo bites back a smile and looks at me. “Em, you can ignore him if you want.”

At that moment, Noah stalks in the front door, his eyes landing on us at the table.

His unexpected entrance makes my decision for me. “Yeah, if you show me what to do I’ll try it.”

I can feel Noah’s eyes trained on me and I’m thrilled to finally have his attention.

Jesse winks at me, knowing my game. “Hell, yeah. Come here, Bo.” He opens the cigarette pack and pulls out a white, tightly rolled joint, puts it in his mouth and lights it.

He inhales deeply, holds it, then turns to Bo who’s appeared at his shoulder, and grabs his head, kissing him.

I don’t even realize he’s blowing the smoke into Bo’s mouth until he starts to exhale it.

Jesse chases his mouth for a moment, biting his bottom lip as Bo pulls away, and the sight of them has my thighs clenching.

He turns back to me. “Is that how you want me to do it for you?”

I laugh, thinking it's a joke, but Bo’s eyes catch mine and I realize he’s waiting to see what I’ll say. I blink again, and Jesse senses my hesitation. “It might just be easier that way, so you don’t have to try and light it yourself.”

I can see Noah rolling his eyes out of the corner of my vision, so I nod. “Okay.”

Holding the joint to his mouth again, Jesse inhales, his eyes rolling up to watch me through his long lashes, my breath catching at the look on his face.

He stands up, leaning over the table and motions for me to meet him with the crook of his finger. I do, like a puppet whose strings are in his hands, fixated on his face and the way Bo’s tongue is flicking across his lip as he watches us .

Jesse’s strong hand goes to the back of my head, pulling me so that my mouth meets his. His tongue flicks across my lip. “Open,” he says, his voice tight with the breath he holds.

I part my lips and he blows the smoke into my mouth, and I try to breathe it in like I saw Bo do.

He pulls away, watching me with darkening eyes as I cough, covering my mouth with the elbow of my sweatshirt. Finally I catch my breath, eyes watering, and look up at him. There’s a slight heaviness to my limbs, but it's a nice feeling that settles in me.