Page 72 of Deadmen's Captive

“Oh, you’ll be fine. All you have to do is sit there.” Bast winked at me and I groaned.

“Thanks mate, now I need a cold shower.” I walked out of the room and headed upstairs, Bast’s laugh following me.

I was only winding him up about needing a cold shower, but Paige was still on my mind. The ways we’d discovered that her mother liked to control her were disturbing to say the least, and something told me we hadn’t even scratched the surface. It was funny, it had been Bast and Nate who’d gone away for a week, and yet I hadn’t seen Paige for nearly all of that time either. I was surprised to find that I’d really missed her.

I headed down the hallway and into my room, fighting the urge to sit in my normal place at my computer and instead dropping down onto my bed. I didn’t miss girls. Well, except my sister, Rosa. I’d never really met anyone I’d felt I could form a friendship with, let alone a relationship. My looks had appeared at a fairly young age, and by the time I was fifteen, I learned girls either liked me for my looks or my money, and usually both. As a teenager not knowing any better, I’d taken full advantage of this, and built myself quite the reputation, but in all honesty, it was a lonely life.

It was probably one of the reasons Bast, Nate and I were close. The other guys didn’t date either. Oh, Bast usually had some stunner on his arm for every social event he was expected to attend, but that was as far as it went. And Nate, well, we knew he was a regular patron at a certain club in London that catered for extreme tastes, but he never spoke about any woman, and we didn’t ask. Our friendship relied on loyalty and honesty, but there was room for secrets as long as it didn’t affect anyone else.

Paige was like a breath of fresh air, though. Or maybe a tornado, I hadn’t decided which yet. I hadn’t been joking that afternoon in the coffee shop. I had really enjoyed myself just hanging out and chatting about everything. It had been Nate’s idea, suggesting Paige might be more amenable to grabbing a quick coffee rather than a dinner at a swanky restaurant, and I realised my silent mountain of a friend might be a damn sight more insightful that we often gave him credit for. I had underestimated how nice it was to just sit and talk, and actually get to know each other. The more I got to know Paige though, the more I wanted to know. I was fast becoming obsessed with this woman, and it both scared me and intrigued me, because of course, the more I got to know her, the more she got to know me and that was completely terrifying.

It wasn’t like I had any deep, dark secrets - well, apart from the one Bast and Nate shared - it was just… I wasn’t used to being vulnerable. When I was with Paige, I felt like she could see right through the whole playboy image I’d spent years creating. It just crumbled at her touch. What if she got to know the real me and realised there was nothing of any substance underneath my charm and my smile.

I took out my phone and fired off a text to Rosa.

Hey Thorny.

It only took a couple of seconds before she messaged back.

No

No what?

Whatever you wanted to ask me to do. Still in Dobinson's bad books after last time.

I grinned. Back in the summer I'd been really bored and had dared Rosa to play a trick on our rather stern housekeeper. Rosa had snuck downstairs one night and glued all of the cutlery and utensils to the kitchen ceiling. I tapped back a reply.

That was all you. I just dared you. And you got your own back.

She had, daring me to add bubble mixture to the ornate fountain right outside the front of our rather large house - just before guests started arriving for my parent's traditional Christmas ball. I'd gone one better and added coloured glow sticks to really add to the effect.

True. What do you want?

Can I ask you a serious question?

I don't know - can you?

Thorny!

Ok ok, what do you want to know?

Am I an ok person?

There was a pause that seemed to last forever, the three little dots appeared as my sister typed. Shit, how long was the message? It felt like she was typing forever.

You're not bad, why?

I exhaled and started typing again.

I just want to know if you think I'm ok. When I'm not acting up, I mean.

Tris, have you met someone?

Maybe. Answer the question.

Another long pause.

If you avoid being your normal dickish self, then underneath, yeah, you're pretty decent. Question really is, would I think she is good enough for you?

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