Page 28 of Stolen By the Enemy

I can see the gun attached to his hip, and I wonder how long he’s been working for Marco. He looks so young.

“Mr. Rodriguez sent it for you.”

I walk over to him and take the box. It’s not too heavy, so it can’t be anything too dangerous.

For a moment, I couldn’t think of who Mr. Rodriguez was, since I’ve only heard Marco’s surname once or twice.

“Thank you.”

I don’t know how I feel about strange men having a key to enter this house whenever they want to.

But I am grateful that he was polite enough to knock before he entered.

I wait until the young man has left the house and locked the door behind him before I put the box down and look into it.

Smiling, I take out the sketchbook, pencils, and a basket of chocolate and fruit.

There are also a few fiction books and magazines that were bought in the last week. Marco finally followed through on his promise.

I can see the books are a mix of thrillers and romance novels. Somehow, he managed to figure out my two favorite genres.

And now I can finally draw. That will be better for me than the exercise.

Sketching has always been the thing that got me through stressful situations. I have a bundle of notebooks that I’ve never shown anyone, where I hide some of my darkest drawings.

The ones I felt were acceptable for outside eyes, I used to give to my Nonna, and she would frame them and put them up on the walls.

We eventually took a lot of them down and replaced them with real artwork, but I still have my own private art gallery in my walk-in closet at home.

The first thing I do is rip one of the pages out of the book and write, in big letters, “THANK YOU”.

Then I put the piece of paper on the coffee table, where I know he’ll be able to see it whenever he checks in on the cameras again.

I want him to know I received it, but also that I appreciate the gift. There is no reply from the speaker, so I assume he’s not currently watching me.

I’m not sure if it is disappointment that I feel, or if I’m just craving any kind of human interaction after spending so much time by myself.

I move all of the furniture back to where it belongs and set up my drawing station near the window.

I’m pleasantly surprised that Marco remembered that he had promised to get me art supplies, even if it did take him a few days to send them over.

I start drawing without any real plan. After a while, I realize it’s Marco’s face, but from my dream.

I look into the eyes I have drawn and get the odd feeling in my chest again.

I wonder when he’ll be here at the house with me again.

For now, I decide to go to bed early, curling up with the extra pillows next to me and wondering, maybe hoping, he’ll come back to my dreams and leave me wet and breathless one more time.

Chapter Nine

Marco

Leaving Grazia in the beach house, I take the long way home to clear my head. My mind is a bit chaotic on the drive.

There is a real connection between us, but I have to keep her from distracting me.

One wrong move here, and I’ve fucked the whole plan up.

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