Page 44 of Graves

He stares at the furthest wall for several seconds before turning to face me.

“I deserve that and more, but it doesn’t make me love you less.”

My mouth parts on instinct before I can help it, but I’m not even able to overanalyze his words before he continues.

“I came in to tell you that Zayden and I have decided you can’t be stuck in this room. You’re free to roam about the apartment and you’ll be able to leave the apartment soon. Just not yet.”

Well, that will make it a lot easier to break out of this place. If they’re going to let me out of the room, I could just walk out the front doo?—

“Don’t think you’ll be able to just escape out the front door,baby,” Dominic says, literally reading my mind. “I have installed a biometric scanner on the inside of the door, only Zayden and I are able to leave the apartment as we’ve removed the fire escape exit.”

My mouth hangs open at that.

“What if there is a fire?”

“Zayden or I will get you out. One of us will be around at all times for your safety.”

With that, he turns to leave, gripping the doorknob before pausing. His back is still to me as he speaks.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I’m sorry Zayden saw you and decided to latch onto you the way he did. I’m sorry I did the same. I really did try to fight it. I knew Zayden getting involved with you was going to ruin your life. I knew me getting involved would make it even worse. It couldn’t stop me, but I am sorry.”

Before I can respond, he slips out the door, leaving it open for the first time in days. I hear a door shut down the hall and assume he went to either his office or bedroom down there. I’m left sitting on the bed, more than a little confused at the warring feelings inside me. Really, Blake? It’s been two days and already you’re feeling sympathy for your captors?

Stockholm syndrome is setting in, apparently.

Chapter Twenty-One

BLAKE

With my newfound freedom, I stay out of my room all night long. A form of protest, I guess. I made myself breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Well, I attempted to. I’m not a fantastic cook, but I can do the basics. I watched endless amounts of trash TV, listened to hours of music, and even cleaned just for the sake of boredom. Zayden tried to sit with me on the couch when he came back from wherever he was, but one death glare and he surprisingly got up and moved to a room down the hall. I’m assuming he has a room here, or maybe he liveshere full time too.

Dominic did say he was gone for a bit. I’m not sure where, though. For work? Does he even work? Vacation? Something tells me guys like Zayden don’t go on vacation, though.

At some point around the fourth or fifth movie, I ended up falling asleep. I’m only awoken in the dead of night by a crash in the dining room. I bolt up from my position on the couch, tossing my blanket aside to see a man on top of Zayden with several dining room table chairs broken. One of the wooden legs is splintered into pieces as the attacker beats Zayden’s face in.

Zayden just smiles through it, cackling at the man before grabbing one of the broken chair legs and plunging it into the man’s stomach. My eyes widen in horror as blood begins to pour around the impaled leg. Oh my god.

The man screeches in pain before Zayden tosses him off, grabbing a knife out of the chop block in the kitchen and sinking it into his neck, sliding it across the skin, and practically severing his head right off. Bile begins to rise in my stomach as I stare at the gory scene before me.

Once finished, Zayden stands over the man, his own blood running down his face as his shirt and hands are bathed in the man’s blood. He rubs his fingers together as if he were analyzing the blood before he smirks. He’s not just a crazy stalker, this man is a straight up murderous psychopath.

In the wake of their grand entrance, the front door wasn’t closed all the way, meaning I could have a way out. Zayden’s back is to me, and I’m honestly amazed he hasn’t noticed me yet. Then again, he was a little preoccupied.

As quietly as I can manage, I begin tiptoeing around him, only feet from the front door, when he speaks.

“Going somewhere, Angel?”

I freeze in place, my blood running cold, and my stomach bottoming out. My breathing begins to pick up as Zayden slowly turns to face me, looking like a blood-drenched grim reaper as he closes the distance between us. I do my best to walk backward, but he matches me step for step, slamming the door closed behind me, and officially sealing my fate.

“How much did you see?” he asks with a hint of a smile playing at his lips, his eyes crazed with what is seemingly bloodlust.

Shakily, I look up at him, meeting those crazed blue eyes as I speak.

“A-all of it.”

He nods, lifting a red finger to me before gently tracing my cheek.

“Not some of my best work, but it was a matter of importance.”

---