Willing Captive Read Online Free PDF

the
hell is going on? Why am I here?” Even to me my voice sounds tired
and strained.
    Silence. I open my
tired eyes and look up at Nox. He searches my face. “Eat
first.”
    Too tired to argue,
I nod, and drag my feet after him.

    ***

    Nox

    This is bullshit.
This is not what I signed up for.
    I
sneak a glance at Delilah Flynn and I know , I just fucking know that she’s gonna be trouble. As soon as she smashed that vase
on Ricky’s head, I knew I was fucked. When you look at her, you
think the word pushover .
    You see this pretty
girl stuck in the body of a tomboy. She 5’8” and wears a pair of
black loose athletic shorts that come just above her knees, a
yellow football style tee that’s two sizes too big that comes just
above her stomach showing her bellybutton and a pair of white
sneakers.
    Her choice of
clothing doesn’t suit her face.
    She’s pretty. And when I say pretty, I mean pretty . And she doesn’t even know it. Which
doesn’t help me in the slightest. Her long, dark-reddish hair has
half come out of its ponytail. It’s thick and has a wave to it. Her
face is clear and her skin has a peaches-and-cream thing going on.
She’s pale. Almost like she’s never seen the sun, but it suits her.
Her bright-green eyes are encased by long dark lashes. She doesn’t
wear a stitch of makeup. She’s naturally pretty. But that
hair…that fucking hair.
I haven’t seen anything like it. It’s thick and shiny. She’s got
nice hair.
    And that blows.
    When you have a job like mine, you expect to come across
contracts that you don’t like from time to time. Solution? Get it
done quickly and forget about it. I’m being paid a lot, and I mean
a lot , to
babysit Miss Delilah Flynn for as long as it takes, so
unfortunately, the quick and forget thing might not be
happening.
    I’m sorely
regretting the decision I’ve made. I should’ve passed this job
on.
    Without a word, I
place my hands under her arms and lift Delilah up onto the kitchen
counter top. She yelps then growls, “Would you stop picking me up
like I’m a freakin’ sack of potatoes!”
    Leaving her, I open
the cabinet above the pantry, take out the first-aid kit, and bring
it over to her. She looks down at the kit with obvious confusion
but doesn’t say a thing. I lift her leg and place her foot to rest
on my thigh. It’s then she sees her scraped and bloody knees and
mutters, “Of course. Great. Just great.”
    Dear god, please give me strength to make sure that I don’t become the threat against the
girl I’m trying to protect.
    This little woman is
grating my nerves something fierce. With her smartass comments and
talking back, I’m gonna go nuts locked up here with her. Especially
when I’m technically not allowed to let her out of my sight for as
long as this thing takes. And I don’t know how long that’ll be. As
far as I know, the threat hasn’t actually been confirmed just
yet.
    I tear open an
antiseptic wipe, and as soon as I press it to her knee, she squeals
then bursts into laughter while trying to kick me away. “No!” She
quells her laughter and scowls, “No. Give it here. I don’t like
people touching my knees.”
    Shaking my head, I
wonder why she didn’t just tell me she’s ticklish. I hand her the
cloth and she carefully wipes her knees until they’re clean. I take
out two square bandages and hand them to her. She places them on
her knees and jumps down from the counter.
    Shit. Now she actually looks like a kid. Skinned knees and
all. And I feel like a prick for checking her out earlier. I know
she’s not underage or anything, but firstly, it’s not professional,
and secondly, I am not going
there, so I shouldn’t even be thinking about her like that. I never
get involved with anyone I protect. I distance myself as much as
possible. It maintains a clear mind.
    Boo carries over a
plate full of sandwiches then excuses herself. She’s on watch until
midnight, so we won’t see her again until then. As soon as