my eyes, and let the tears pour out of me. Crying is healthy, at least. Crying makes me feel like I'm still okay.
Other times, I can't even cry. I just sit there and stare at the empty wall and wait for the tears to fall, but they refuse to come. It's like they've been drained out of me. Like Sebastian took away not only my heart and my well-being, but my tears as well. He took everything from me, to protect me, to save me, or whatever it is he is doing to me, and I hate him for it. But I also want him so badly, so badly I can't even explain it.
Still, I haven't felt this desperate, this dark inside, since the days after my parents were killed. It feels like everything is crashing down again, like my whole life has been a downhill spiral and now that I've hit rock bottom, there's no climbing back up.
There is no escaping this safe house, I've realized, defeated. I'm trapped in here, possibly forever.
But on Wednesday night, marking two weeks since I first arrived here, that all changes. Or at least, it changes a little.
I'm sitting on my bed, thinking about what it would be like to dance in front of my parents again, to perform and let everything else melt away, when Sebastian comes over to me and says, 'I want to show you something, my angel.'
I sit up and turn around.
He'd just come out of the shower, and right now he's wearing nothing but a towel. He runs a hand through his wet dark hair, those blue eyes transfixed on me. Steam pours off of him as he closes the bathroom door behind him, and he looks so incredible that it makes my skin tingle.
'Nice shirt,' I say to him, unable to stop staring at his perfectly chiseled abs. They're long and lean, and his biceps ripple with muscle, the kind of muscle you don't get from working out at the gym, but from pure, real-world fighting.
He gives me a crooked little smile. 'I thought you might like that.'
I watch him as he moves over to me, slipping on a shirt and then, unfortunately, pants. I love the way his body looks and moves, love how his muscles tense when he's nervous, love how looking at him makes my skin feel hot and tense and causes traces of a blush to creep across my cheeks. I am infatuated with his body, with every visible inch of him, and as much as I wish I weren't, as much as I want to hate him, I just can't.
'Where are you taking me?' I ask once he walks back over to me, the fear starting to creep in. I don't trust Sebastian. Not at all. I still think he is going to do something bad to me. But I can't deny the connection I feel for him, the irresistible draw he gives me.
He grabs my hand and leads me toward the door. 'Just somewhere,' he says, more to himself than me.
He stops once he reaches the door. My stomach tenses up as he puts his key into the lock, then swings it open as soon as it clicks. Sunlight pours into the dark room, and even though it's cloudy outside, it feels blinding.
I haven't seen sun in weeks.
I hesitate as soon as he motions for me to step through. 'You… you're letting me go?' I say. My voice trembles, but I can't help myself. I know I should be rushing out, pushing past him and trying to get the hell out of here, but I'm too stunned to move. 'After everything? You're letting me go? Just like that?'
Sebastian shakes his head. He has a perplexed look in his eyes, and his dimples grow like he's about to smile. 'I'm not letting you go,' he says, raising his voice, his eyes burning into mine. 'I'm taking you somewhere, you'll see where. I trust you, angel, but I won't let you escape until I'm sure you're safe. You're still my prisoner, and don't ever forget that. I own you. I'm not your knight in shining armor. I'm trying to save you, from myself and from those men, but I'm not going to sweep you off your feet. I'm just going to protect you, and that means locking you up.' His voice sounds is rough and urgent but oddly sincere, and I stare back at him, frozen, trying to read him. I can't tell if he really is just trying to save me, or if it's all part of some elaborate lie to gain my trust. It shouldn’t matter either way, because who the fuck locks up someone to save them? But it does matter. I hate that it does, but it does.
'Okay,' I say slowly, watching him closely. I take a deep breath as I step outside and into his arms for the first time in weeks.
The sun is so blinding that I have to squeeze my eyes shut almost immediately. I can't see where I'm going, but Sebastian steers me forward, his hand placed gently on my back. His chin hovers right above my shoulder, and I can hear his steady breaths, can smell his masculine scent of mint and sweat. He feels good, holding me like this, as he steers me up a hill of some sort. He feels really, really good. And I realize I should be thinking about how to escape or something, or how much I hate him for locking me up, but I just… I can't.
It occurs to me then how easy it could be to run away right now. I could just push him aside and make a break for it, and he may or may not be able to catch up to me. I could do so many things to get away, and one week ago, I would've tried all of them. But there is something so sincere and innocent in the way Sebastian speaks to me, looks at me, something that tells me he really, truly does care about me. He does love me. He does want me. He's just a man in love above all else, a man who is broken and doesn't want to lose me.
And I guess, in a way, I don't want to lose him too.
I let Sebastian guide me all the way up the hill, past the sounds of wind whistling through the trees and the steady chirping of birds above me, until he finally stops before a house of some sort. I try to open my eyes, but I can't make out much. I see Sebastian walk up to it, open the door or something, and then he motions me inside. 'C'mon. I have something important to show you.'
My instincts tell me to turn and run away right now. Every part of me screams it, in fact. And I feel myself start to. I feel my legs go weak from the trembles, and I feel myself edge back, ready to sprint as far away from here as possible, but my legs are frozen in place, refusing to leave. I just stand there for a while, with Sebastian watching me with narrowed eyes, as if testing whether I trust him.
'Okay,' I finally say, hating myself immediately for being so stupid. I stumble toward the door after him, and he catches me when I trip over a root and almost fall into the stairs.
'Careful there, angel,' he whispers into my ear, pulling me up with his thick arms and smiling. 'Wouldn't want you to get hurt, after all this.'
I don't answer.
Sebastian leads me inside. The house is dark, and I'm relieved that I can open my eyes without squinting again. It's an old house, like something out of a horror movie, filled with broken windows and upturned furniture and a creaking door and moth-eaten carpets. The air inside here is thick and musty, and I have to bite back a gag as soon as I breathe it in.
Taking my hand, Sebastian leads me up the rickety stairs, down the old, crumbling hallway, and into a room at the end of the top floor. It's old and painted a peeling blue color, with dusty posters hanging over the wall and a desk full of pictures of a smiling boy and an older woman standing over him. The bed is empty and unmade, seemingly untouched for years, and the ceiling is filled with poorly-drawn stars, like sketches from a little kid.
'Welcome to paradise,' Sebastian says without a trace of humor, gesturing to the room around him.
I frown at him for a minute, looking around. The room is too small to hold more than one person, and too old have been used in the last five years. Then my eyes drift to another picture of the little boy, this time of him holding a small saxophone, and when I look back at Sebastian, it hits me.
'This is your room,' I say quietly, unable to believe he's really revealing this much of himself to me. If he were really trying to harm me, why would he show me his old room? Why is he… why is he opening up to me like this?
'Guilty as charged.' Sebastian gives me a sad smile, and for a second, it's like he regrets bringing me here. But it's gone as quickly as it comes, before I even have time to frown. 'Here.' Sebastian motions me forward with his hand. 'I have something to show you.'
He reaches into the little dresser beside the bed, searches around a bit, and finally pulls out a picture of the same boy, this time playing his saxophone for the woman in the other photo. He takes a seat down on the bed, then pats the space beside him. 'Sit,' he says. I obey.
Sebastian sighs as soon as I sit beside him, like he already regrets what he's about to tell me. He hands me the picture. It's dusty and cool at the touch. As I look closer, I see that the boy is smiling. He looks happy, genuinely happy, so different than the Sebastian I know now.
'I was twelve in that picture,' he says. He isn't looking at me. His eyes are focused on the window, that distant little look in them. 'I was happy then. With Jodie, the woman who took me in after… what happened to my
