Page 57 of Captive

I wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. And it isn’t like Ezra didn’t know she’d been with us by the time he finally sealed the deal with her, so I don’t think he would, either. Besides, like Hawthorne just said: we’re a family. Families share shit all the time.

Not typically women, but hey, I’m sure there are other kinky freaks out there doing some weirder shit than us, serial-killing included.

“I’m good,” I say.

“I’m good, too,” Ezra says with a single nod.

Hawthorne acts surprised, like he was anticipating one of us throwing a fit or arguing. “Oh, okay. That’s good. I’m glad we’re all on the same page, then. We’re just going to… keep doing what we’re doing, then?”

It’s funny. It’s like he needs permission to fuck her. I suppose it’s because a part of him still wants to run to the Benefactor and tell them about how entangled we are in our newest housemate. He’s guilty, but it’s a different sort of guilt than, say, what Ezra was fighting before.

“Yep,” I say. “Do you have any questions about it, Hawthorne? You look confused. I know you know where things go, I saw it myself. Should I go get Abby so we can demonstrate how it’s done again?”

He waves a hand through the air. “No. Just… no. You two can go.” He turns his back on us as he walks around his desk and sits down in his high-backed leather chair. A second later he is opening his laptop, his gaze completely fixated on it, which tells me this conversation is indeed finished.

Eh, whatever. If he wants to be weird and awkward about it, he can go right ahead. I’ve never seen him like that before Abby. From the first day we brought her here, he was acting a fool, like he’s never spent time around a pretty woman before.

I’m the first to leave his office, and Ezra is right behind me. He goes to his bedroom, and I follow him. Honestly, I thought after he and Abby did the deed, he’d come talk to me about it, but he hasn’t. Let’s change that.

“I’m surprised Hawthorne was the first to say something,” I break the silence of his bedroom, causing him to stop what he’s doing—pulling out some workout clothes from his dresser, looks like—and turn to stare at me.

“What do you mean?”

“I just thought you’d say something after. To me.”

He folds his arms over his chest. “The walls in this house aren’t thin. You didn’t come to me after you were with her, so why would I come to you?”

“I don’t know. You didn’t really give me a chance. You ran and tattled on us like a little bitch, no offense.” He frowns at me slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, which lets me go on, “We’re like brothers, you and me. We don’t have secrets—”

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you.”

“You know that day that you two finally fucked? I sent her up to your room so she could tell you about Connor herself. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Ezra gives me an unimpressed look. “You’re acting as if we never would’ve done anything if it wasn’t for you. You’re not the fairy godmother of sex, Royal. It would’ve happened sooner or later, even if you didn’t send her my way.”

“Yeah, right, because staying in your room all the time, fucking brooding, is real sexy to the ladies.”

“For your information, she understands why I felt the way I felt. She listened, she didn’t judge. She…” His arms fall to his sides as he visibly relaxes as he talks about her. “She said all the right things. I feel like I’ve known her forever, even though I haven’t. It’s the craziest thing—and I swear to God, if you make fun of me for that, I’ll—”

“I’m not going to make fun of you,” I tell him. “Why the fuck would I? Don’t you think I feel the same way? Hawthorne, too. Do you think he would’ve gone so far with her if he didn’t feel it? She was fucking made for us, and that’s all there is to it.”

He stares at me for a while, and then a gentle smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, she was. If Hawthorne tells the Benefactor, and they don’t approve… I don’t know that I could go back to the way things were. I wouldn’t want to. For the first time in forever, I feel okay. No, better than that. I feel good. The last thing I want to do is act like she doesn’t mean something to me.”

Now that is something we totally agree on. We agree on most things, but going back to the way things were before sounds like fucking torture, and I don’t know anybody who’d willingly sign up for that shit.

“She means something to me, too,” I say. “Maybe it’s cheesy as fuck, but it feels like this house is finally complete.” Fucking hell, it really does sound cheesy. So full of cheese.

Behind me, I hear a feminine “Awe” as someone else walks in the room. Abby. As she approaches me and Ezra, she holds her hands behind her back and wears a big, fat smile on her face. Her hair is freshly re-dyed; the blue is much more blue than it was yesterday, and the pink is more like fresh bubblegum rather than the dried up kind you find underneath tables in shitty diners.

“I was in the hall,” she says once she stands in between us. “I am a total eavesdropper, by the way. I overhear everything, especially when I have nothing better to do.” She beams at that, like she takes it as a compliment, even though she’s the one who said it.

I fucking knew she was an eavesdropper. I called that. That means she heard everything Ezra and I were saying, and she heard everything the three of us were talking about in Hawthorne’s office. Shocker.

“Well?” she asks, tilting her head. “Go on, then. Keep gushing over me. I want to hear more about how I complete your lives and this house. Or you two can talk about all the nasty things you’d like to do to me the next time we’re alone. I’d accept that, too.”

Ezra sighs, but he matches her smile with one of his own, albeit gentler. I, on the other hand, give her a devious smirk and say, “Why don’t you tell us all the nasty things you want us to do to you instead? Just so we can see where your head is at.”

Her gray eyes study me, then they examine Ezra. We stand in a triangle, the three of us doing a whole lot of staring. It’s almost like we’re each waiting for someone else to start something—or at least I am. The moment someone starts something, I’ll fucking finish it, and I’ll finish it by burying myself between those juicy thighs of hers.