Page 11 of Married into the Mob
“Sit on the couch and I’ll get you a glass of water.”
He guzzled the cool liquid, splashed some on his face, and I turned the air-conditioning up to frigid, figuring being too hot would only increase his anxiety.
“Odell, look at me.” I sat on the couch opposite him and leaned forward, hoping I wasn’t too close. I had to get him to focus on something other than that he was underground.
His eyes that were fixed on paintings on the opposite wall slid to my face.
“You’re safe here.”
He gripped the now-empty glass and shook his head. I could almost hear his teeth rattling.
“I want you to mimic my breathing. I’m going to inhale and count to four. Then hold for four more counts, and exhale for six.” I did as I’d explained, but his eyes had a glazed appearance. Taking a chance he wouldn’t freak, I kneeled at his feet and followed the technique again.
He squeezed my hands and copied me, and we did it together. Eventually, his breathing calmed. We were part of the way there.
“Okay, I want you to look around and tell me five things you can see.”
He gulped and glanced around the space. “I see three sofas.” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Is that one thing or three?”
Nowmybreathing was easier because his panic level was decreasing. And that smile gave me hope we could get beyond the kidnapping.
“I’ll count it as one.” He swung his head the other way. “There’s a small kitchen with a fridge. That’s two. Oh, and the shelves are lined with snacks.” He paused. “Only two more to go.”
His head swiveled in another direction. “There are soft rugs on the floor and a lot of cushions on the sofas and armchairs.” He craned his neck toward one of the other rooms. “There are one, two, three, four closed doors, but the fifth one is open and I see bunk beds.”
“Well done. How about something you can hear?”
His eyes lit up as if he were enjoying the game, but I suspected it was more relief that his mind was no longer in panic mode.
“I hear the hum of air-conditioning.”
“And what about something you can feel or smell?”
“The sofa is so soft, better than any bed I’ve ever slept on.” He sniffed. “Can you smell fresh air?” He pushed hair from his brow. I longed to do that and more. “It smells clean but interspersed with that is your cologne. It’s…” He hesitated. “No, not that. Ummm, it reminds me of a fall day and reading a book by a fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate beside me.”
Was that his home he’d described? It sounded delightful. If he was reacting to even a sliver of my scent, I was squeeing inside because he’d made a huge leap forward. Not yet into my arms but slowly, slowly.
“Not that I ever stayed in a place like that. But I’ve read countless stories and imagined a fall day exactly like it.” He chewed his bottom lip.
But we had to deal with practical matters.“There’s a bathroom. No shower though, sorry.”
“Sorry, I can’t abide by a kidnapper who puts me in a hole in the ground and doesn’t provide a shower. Perhaps we can try this kidnapping caper again when you’ve upgraded this place.”
My mouth hung open. Was he serious? A moment ago he’d been in panic mode, and now?
“I, ummm…” He had me at a disadvantage. Me, the guy who always oozed confidence. “Sorry, I guess.”
Odell tilted his head to the side. “I was kidding, kidnapper.”
“Right.” It was as though the ground under my feet was swallowing me, and I was hanging on by my fingertips. I didn’t know how to respond except that I’d lie down and die for this man.
If I’d had a choice, I would have taken him to my place or our country estate that was now livable again after a huge flood. But nowhere up above was safe while Draven was rampaging. And he would be. People didn’t change, especially guys whose father believed our pack, La Luna Noir, and my family in particular, were responsible for every bad thing that had happened to him.
“There’s plenty of food.” I opened the cupboards to reveal more tins and packets. The fridge is small, but it’s solar-powered so it doesn’t drain electricity.”
I was babbling. He didn’t give a damn about the stupid fridge. But while I was helping Odell tamp down his anxiety, I’d had a purpose. Now I was flailing, wondering how this would end with Draven and how Odell and I could move on from the roles of kidnapper and kidnappee.
His tummy rumbled. Preparing food was something I could do, not that I cooked much. Or at all.
