Page 30 of Captured Onyx

It's never been a problem for me, or any of us, to eat in complete silence. It's the perfect time to retreat, to organize your thoughts, especially in times like this.

But it's different with an outsider at the table, and it's even worse with her. It seems that she's too hungry to be frightened, but she's clearly uncomfortable. While each of us is occupied with the substandard food in front of us, her charcoal eyes are scrutinizing everything in the room, clinging on to anything that could distract her mind while she slurps on her instant ramen. She looks like she's about to say something any moment now, but no words ever escape her pretty lips. Still, it's keeping me on edge, straining me in a way it shouldn't.

Daveed and Mike don't seem to be bothered by her unrest, both of them digging into their ramen like they always do, not at all concerned about the fact that there's a girl at the table. A girl we kidnapped.

I, on the other hand, can hardly stop my pulse from racing with nervous rage. It's getting worse with every moment she doesn't speak but just lets those big eyes wander around the table, taking turns latching on to each of us.

"What is it?" I finally hiss at her when her uneasy eyes meet mine.

The guys throw me a questioning look, both revealing that they really hadn't noticed the girl's fidgeting.

She bites her lower lip as she casts me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. It's just that... I'm not used to eating like this."

"Like this? Like what?" I ask, jutting my chin forward.

"In silence," she responds. "When we eat together, we always talk."

"Well, we don't," Daveed barks at her, shaking his head before his attention shifts back to the food in front of him.

Her face drops, leaving a sharp sting poking at my chest. I hate to see her in pain like this—but I hate it even more that I care. Because I shouldn't. She's a means to an end, and she has yet to prove to us whether she really can be of use to us.

I shouldn't care about her personal happiness. And yet I do.

Either way, I can't reveal this weakness in front of my men.

"Just finish your food," I tell her brusquely, arching my eyebrows in a warning. "We'll talk later."

"Why not now?" she questions, dropping her chopsticks. "It could be helpful. You could tell me more about this mission and the Scivola family and-"

"I will," I cut her off. "After we're done eating."

She sighs, lowering her gaze. Her shoulders sink as if someone placed a heavy weight on her.

"No, you won't," she whispers. "You'll just lock me up in that awful room again."

My objection to her comment is quick, and it's revealing something even I didn't know until that moment.

"No, I won't," I say, avoiding eye contact with her or anyone else at the table. "You'll come with me."

I can feel her puzzled look piercing through me, but I don't respond to it in any way, opting to keep my attention focused elsewhere.

"Come with you where?" she asks.

Taking a deep breath that I make sure is laced with strenuous annoyance, I reciprocate her aghast look. I can tell from the corner of my eyes that she's not the only one directing silent questions at me. The guys are confused by my statement, as well.

And so am I, even when I elaborate my statement.

"You'll join me," I repeat. "In my room."

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