Captive by R.J. Lewis

Author:R.J. Lewis [Lewis, R.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-09T16:00:00+00:00

Roz troubled Nixon the most.

Victoria…

We sat at the table. I was eating teriyaki chicken and rice from the pouch with a plastic fork, even though my stomach was completely closed to food. I’d had a migraine waking up and knew I needed it. I probably needed caffeine more, though.

I was staying quiet, trying not to step on anyone’s toes. There was a strangled tension in the air between the men. They all skirted around each other, barely making conversation.

I didn’t feel like your regular hostage.

I felt more like an uncomfortable guest than anything.

So far, only Roz had been nice to me. He was sitting across from me, eating from a pouch of his own. Nixon was feeding the fire and Tucker was outside smoking a cigarette.

“You know, these bags aren’t bad,” Roz said. “We got a lot of selection, too. I saw peach and cream oatmeal in the pile if you’re still hungry.”

“I’m okay, thank you,” I responded sweetly, hardly through a quarter of the pouch.

“Next time, then. I’m sure it won’t be heart stopping but…” he shrugged with ease, watching me with his bright blue eyes. “You gotta be careful not to have expectations, especially when you’re used to the good thing back home.”

I sat up now, my interest peaked. He was being personal. This was good. I could work with that. “Where is home?”

“San Diego,” he answered. “This is definitely not San Diego weather.”

Nixon walked back to the kitchenette, looking like he was barely paying attention as he poured boiling water into a pouch.

I couldn’t get a reading on this guy.

I couldn’t stop staring at him, either.

“No, it isn’t,” I agreed returning my attention to Roz, trying to smile even though it felt all wrong.

Roz looked at my mouth, and his eyes looked distant. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”

My chest went tight. Please, don’t say that. “Thank you.”

“Were you warm last night?”

I nodded, forcing another bite into my mouth. I couldn’t taste shit. “Yes.”

“You got real close to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. I liked it.”

I looked down at the food, trying to relax. His attention was making me uncomfortable. He stared at my mouth for some time before he cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m going for a smoke.”

The second he stepped out, I put the pouch down on the table and sucked in deep breaths through my nose. Tears clouded my vision. My panic attack felt like two cold hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing.

A mug slid across the table to me. I saw the large figure that put it there let go and walk away. I watched him from my peripheral as he returned to the kitchenette, taking large bites out of his pouch as he stared out the window at the two men. He looked deep in thought, the corners of his mouth pulled down.

I turned my focus to the mug and brought the steaming tip to my mouth. I took a quick sip, feeling better when the heat settled at the pit of my stomach where the nerves sat.

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