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Holly
It’s too much to take in. They’ve fabricated my death and involved my parents. I should be beyond angry, screaming and running for the nearest telephone to reassure them I’m ok. Strangely, I’m not.
Dexter has a way about him that makes me trust him. God only knows why, but I’m longing to see where this all ends.
Making my way toward my room, I think about the other conversation he started. Control. From the look in his eyes, I know exactly what that involves, and I’m strangely excited about that.
I see Maisy heading my way with an armful of laundry, and she smiles. “Hey, how are things?”
“Strange.” I raise my eyes and she nods as if she can read my mind.
“Why don’t we grab a coffee, I think we need to have a chat.”
I’m surprised by the determination on her face and nod, following her to the kitchen, which always feels so homey and welcoming, probably because of the woman who lives here most of the time.
She sets about gathering the mugs and I slump down on the kitchen chair and stare into space. My mind scrambled.
The coffee she pushes my way is most welcome, and she says with interest, “I’m guessing Dexter’s been messing with your mind, he’s good at that.”
“How did you know?” I throw her a wry smile and she leans on her elbows and looks at me curiously. “Honey, that man is a closed book. I told you that, but I’m guessing if you opened it and read the story, you would understand why.”
“Do you—know the story, I mean?”
“A little, but it’s not my place to tell it. Just know that Dexter is a good man. A little lost maybe and struggling to find his way. The front he puts on to the outside world is just that—a front. Underneath the hard-assed businessman is a man who feels a little too much. He is lost and I pray every night for him to find someone who can purge his demons and make him happy.”
“That sounds impossible.”
“No, just almost impossible, there’s a big difference.”
“But he’s so cold. He brought me here and is keeping me against my will. What’s right about that?”
“Are you sure?”
“Of what?”
“That you’re here against your will because I’ve watched you both over the past few days and you have reached an understanding that tells me you’re happy to be here.”
“For the opportunity. I would still like my freedom and to be able to choose when I leave.”
“I understand that, it’s our basic human right, but, honey, as prisons go, you scored the jackpot here. Dexter is a good man and you will be well cared for. When you leave, I’m guessing he will have it all wrapped up and your life will be a much better one than the one you left.”
I think about what she says and know in my heart she’s right. Dexter has been open with me to a point and I should respect him for that. Maybe the reason I’m happy to be here has more to do with the man than the job. It’s the thought of spending the day with him that gets me out of bed and has me dressing in a way I think he would like. It’s the little looks we share, and the stolen smiles that give meaning to my day. It’s the powerful urge to massage his shoulders when he stretches wearily and my need to be close to him that surprises me more and everything he has told me just can’t make me hate him. It should, but I’m excusing him every word from his lips because I want to stay, to be with him.
Now he has made me a cryptic offer that I can kind of guess what’s involved and it’s screwing with my head more than anything he just said. Can I trust him, relinquish control to a man who, to the outside world, is a monster? I already know my answer and that is what’s exciting me the most.
Two hours later and my minds made up. I thought long and hard as I sat on my bed staring at the walls and for every reason why I should say no, there were a hundred others that told me to go for it. My life couldn’t get even worse—surely and this may be something that teaches me a valuable life lesson that will benefit my future.
I head toward Dexter’s den with a mixture of excitement and fear. What will happen next, it’s the unknown that’s scaring me a little?
I knock on the door and he says roughly, “Come in.”
As I open the door, he watches me approach like a predator and I love how that makes me feel inside. One week in his company and I have lost my mind and all sense of what’s right because I’m about to jump head first into a situation that could break me, or make me.
“Have you reached your decision?”
He seems mildly curious, and I lick my lips and nod.
“I have.”
