Page 1 of Captive Beta

1

Caleb

As the sun warms up the new living room, I mentally put ‘pick out curtains’ on my list of things to do. Even so early in the summer, it’s hard to be here after about one or two in the afternoon.

It will be great during the colder months, we’ll have to spend less on heating, but right now, it’s hard to be here.

Another task on the list is to pick out radiators. There were none on the blueprints that Mathew showed me and, after taking out the old flooring, we found out that there’s no underfloor heating either. So, those are on the list too.

There is the beautiful fireplace, of course. But I don’t want to have to rely on that, especially not with young kids crawling and running around in not too long. Radiators will be much safer and easier to control.

Sweat is trickling down my face and I wipe at it with my arm. Only to then quickly pull my arm away with a low curse as I mix the sawdust and the sweat together, making both stick to my skin even better. This is worse than just the sweat, so much worse.

“Here.” Mathew holds out a towel, which looks welcomingly clean, as he glances around the room, a frustrated line between his eyebrows, his body tense.

“Thank you.” I stand up, dusting my hands off on my legs and accept the towel, running it over my face. When I pull it back, it’s a grimy colour from the saw dust, some metal dust and my sweat. I run it over my neck, before putting it on a stack of planks against the outer wall.

The whole time, Mathew stands in silence, looking around the room, seemingly trying to find something to focus his mind on that’s not what’s actually going through his head.

“Making any progress with the mission?” I go over to him, not touching him since I don’t want to dirty the elegant suit he’s wearing, but hoping that my pheromones will help him calm down.

Why the guy wears suits all the time, I have no idea. Unless he’s working out, in which case he’ll wear workout clothes, ready to go to bed, in which case he’ll wear pyjamas, or doing something in the garden, in which case he’ll wear coveralls, he only ever wears suits. His whole closet is full of them and nothing else.

Any other types of clothing we found were all from Jorge —things Mathew accidentally-on-purpose ‘misplaced’ when Jorge had to get dressed to leave, so he could surround himself with Jorge’s pheromones when he needed it, or that Jorge left behind on purpose so he’d have a clean outfit if he ever needed it.

“Can you give him something to do? His hovering is putting everyone on edge and I don’t want to snap at him.” Mathew’s shoulders fall.

After the argument between the two last week, they’ve been getting along normally most of the time. But every once in a while, Jorge will become too overprotective for Mathew’s comfort and instead of telling him off, Mathew keeps trying to get other people to diffuse the situation.

What I understood from Riley and Timothy, Mathew threatened to kill Jorge if he ever got between Mathew and his work. After Jorge ran off, upset and angry, Mathew went after him and they seem to have made up, but things have been tense since.

This probably won’t get any better until the mission is finally finished in a couple of days. And then the whole cycle will probably start all over again the next time Mathew goes on a mission…

I’m not looking forward to that. “You know you can ask him to step out for a bit yourself, right? You’re the boss, which he knows.”

Mathew slowly shakes his head, his eyes on the floor. “I can’t. I want him to help, he has useful things to add to what we’re doing, but not like that. No matter how hard he tries, his worried pheromones keep coming out and messing with my mind. And my first instinct is to punch him right in the nose every time it happens because I can’t focus when he does it.”

“Ask him to wear pheromone maskers? Or put on a diffuser? It’s not like you don’t have ways to deal with unwelcome pheromones.” I try my hardest not to laugh.

These guys are so volatile around each other, but they mean well. They just don’t have good coping mechanisms for handing their emotions.

“Can’t.” Mathew drops into a crouch, his shoulders low, his voice dejected. “Then he’d know what’s going on. I don’t want him to feel bad.”

They’re like a bunch of teenagers… I know that neither of them had a real childhood, let alone being able to act like teens when they were, but their solutions to problems are… juvenile.

And very cute.

If I knew a psych who specialised in organised crime, I’d send these two immediately. They need to learn some proper coping skills. I know I’m not one to talk, but that’s nothing in comparison to these two.

“So, every time you flee from the room, what does he think you’re doing?” I walk over to the windows to overlook the area in front of the house.

“Going to the loo. Small pregnancy bladder, you know?”

That makes me laugh. I guess that’s a somewhat creative excuse? Even if it’s not really that believable.

“Fine, but this is the last time. Okay?” I dig through my pockets for my phone and message Derrick, asking if he can come up with an excuse to get Vera and Jorge out of the library together, to make it less suspicious. “There. That should solve your issue.”

When I turn back to Mathew, he’s suddenly standing really close, his face flushed, as he reaches out to me.

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