Page 20 of Captive

What did Abby lose?

Or, maybe I should say, who did she lose?

Chapter Nine – Abby

A week passes. It’s so strange how quickly you can fall into a new routine when everything in your life has changed. You’d think I’d miss my old life, being stuck here in this house, but I don’t. Mostly because the life I was taken from was hardly a life at all, but whatever.

Going through the motions, pretending to be happy; no one knew the inner turmoil inside me. No one saw the darkness in me waiting to emerge. Even my family was oblivious, which is just ridiculous when you think about it, given what happened.

What made me do what I do.

I’m well aware killing is a choice for people like me, and people like Royal, Ezra, and Hawthorne, but since the freaking police can’t be trusted to actually put every monster behind bars, someone’s gotta do it.

Each day, I learn a little more about each of my three captors, although I do hesitate to call them that, given how I’m being treated. Like a guest instead of an actual captive, minus the fact that I can’t leave this house or contact anyone on the outside.

Ezra likes dry cereal. Royal has a thing for breaking his previous weight-lifting records. Hawthorne is glued to the chair in his office, which is even more insane given how lean he is. Someone who hardly moves like that, you’d think would have a little more heft to them.

It’s almost like I’m living with roomies. Roomies who like to kill. A team of serial killers. It’s almost something out of a dream, only it’s real and I can’t look away from them. I don’t know if it’s a train wreck waiting to happen, or if they could be my new future.

I’d be down with joining the team. Of course I would. What kind of crazy woman would say no when three attractive men ask something like that? We see eye-to-eye in a way most people never would, and I don’t fear them like the vast majority of people would. It’d be a win-win.

But, of course, they need to trust me first, which means being patient. Patience is something I’ve been working on lately, for reasons that should be obvious. You don’t become a serial killer with the hope of long-term prison-avoidance without having a bit of patience.

Anyway, it’s just after lunch when Ezra brings me to Hawthorne’s office, where he and Royal are waiting. With the four of us in the room, the room almost feels too small.

“Uh, what’s this?” I ask, glancing between the three of them. My eyes don’t know where to linger longest; each of them pull me to them in different ways.

Royal’s almost menacing demeanor, not to mention his perfectly-dyed charcoal hair and those delicious muscles. Ezra’s typical boy-next-door blond-hair, crisp blue-eyes mix, plus those tattoos on his arms. The definition of yummy. And then there’s Hawthorne, who wears those glasses and that button-up shirt-and-slacks combo perfectly, the ultimate sexy point Dexter.

They’re a hodgepodge of deliciousness, okay? Your girl has eyes and can appreciate fineness when she sees it.

When none of them respond right away, I go on, “Have you finally decided you’re done playing nice? You three going to take turns ravishing me on that desk after hurriedly brushing everything off it in a desperate mess?”

Okay, maybe I’ve read too many romance novels. Sue me.

Royal smirks at that, while Ezra quickly glances away from me. Hawthorne, on the other hand, tries to hide a blush and coughs before he says, “No, no that’s not what this is.” Under his breath, he adds, “Though I do suspect you’ll be just as happy once you hear what this is about.”

I doubt anything could top a nice foursome on that desk, but hey, minus the blushing, he seems pretty confident in what he’s saying, so I guess we’ll see.

“Give it your best shot,” I say, folding my arms over my chest as I wait.

“I’ve been given the go-ahead to tell you a little more about us, what we do, and how we do it. The Benefactor has also given me the greenlight to let you out of this house. We’ve been given our next target.”

Okay, I have so many questions after that, I don’t know where to start. “This… Benefactor, he tells you what to do, who to go after?”

“He, or she,” Hawthorne says, informing me that their Benefactor has some level of mystery, even to them, “does fund us, and although we are free to do as we please when it comes to who we go after, we are also given dossiers on potential targets.”

I wonder if this Benefactor has some tie to law enforcement, or enough money that they’re able to pay a dirty cop under the table for information like that. Regardless, whoever’s funneling this information to the Benefactor is so good at their job that the police haven’t come out and said D.D.K.’s victims were all rapists and abusers.

“So if you guys are a team the Benefactor basically pays to do this, does that mean there are other teams out there? Is D.D.K. nation-wide?” Victims weren’t only found in this city. I always thought it was just because D.D.K. was traveling to kill his victims to throw off the police and the FBI, but if there are more people out there killing and dismembering in the same way…

Wow. I mean, wow. What a system. They deserve medals or something.

“There might be,” Hawthorne says. “We don’t even know, but that’s how this works. It’s better for everyone if we are in the dark about some things.”

“So this next target, you’re going to let me tag along and watch, or what?” At that, I look at Royal and Ezra. “Is the killing duo going to be a threesome now?”

“The Benefactor agreed: we can’t let you go, but if you prove you can handle yourself, you could become a part of this team.”