Page 22 of Under Your Care

Greyson cut me off, “That won’t happen.”

I massaged my aching temples as I decided to not argue. Looking up at the ceiling in exasperation, I asked, “Are there rules you want me to follow or something? Since I’m your captive and all?”

He smiled in content, seeming happy with my question. “You’re such a good boy for asking, Lane!” I squirmed, still not comfortable with how I had been reacting to that specific praise. “Stay right here for a minute and eat up. I already have a list written up, but I didn’t expect us to be this far along yet, so it’s still in my office.”

Greyson got up from the table and ruffled my hair before disappearing down a different hallway than the one my bedroom was in. Figuring I may as well eat - which had nothing to do with the fact that I fucking loved waffles - I stayed at the table while looking around at my surroundings some more. How did he afford this place on a mental health therapist’s salary? I was pretty sure that they didn’t get paidthiswell.

Thiswas like CEO money or surgeon money. To be honest, I didn’t quite keep up with which careers pay the highest wages. From what I knew aboutGreyson’s schedule at the therapy office, I didn’t think he had enough time to have a second job, but maybe it was possible? If he had money, why did he want a boring, broke college kid like me?

At that moment, Greyson walked swiftly back into the kitchen, smiling proudly at my empty plate. I was more focused on the stuffed binder he was holding.

“Is that entire thing filled with rules?” I grimaced, glaring at it.

Greyson chuckled, “No. The rules are just a small section of it.”

I raised my brow.Then, what else was in it?

Greyson cocked his head over towards the living room. “Come on, why don’t we sit on the couch to go over everything?”

I glanced over at the couch and it did look pretty damn comfortable. I nodded at Greyson, scooting back my chair before standing and following him. I curled up in the corner of the couch, sinking back into the plush pillows. Sitting next to me, Greyson handed me a knit blanket, which I gladly cuddled up with. He set the binder on his lap. As he opened it, I watched as he flipped through sections labeledFood, Schedules, and Date Ideas,stopping at the one labeledRules. I held back my laughter as I realized this man had practically made a school report on “How to Care for Your Captive Boyfriend.”

He flipped a page and handed me the binder. “Here, read these and then we can discuss. I’m open to changes and potentially adding some rules for myself if I think they’re allowable.”

“Alright…” I said, uncertain. As I read through the list, I only became more confused.

Rules for Lane:

Do not lie to Greyson.

Do not leave the apartment without Greyson.

Take your medications as prescribed.

Do not speak and/or message withindividuals Greyson has not vetted.

Trust Greyson.

Do not masturbate.

Complete your college coursework on time.

Maintain your personal hygiene.

If you have questions about anything, ask Greyson.

Attend your weekly therapy sessions with Greyson.

Do not attempt to self-harm or engage in potentially injurious activities.

Only use your provided credit card.

Tell Greyson immediately if you need/want something. If you require medical care and Greyson is not home, call 911 first and then Greyson.

Why was this kidnapping so wholesome? Puzzled, I shook my head, handing the binder back to Greyson.

“Thoughts?” He asked, grabbing a pen to presumably make notes.

“Uh… Well, they’re weirdly fine? I’d like a few clarifications, though,” I said, still stumped at Greyson’s weirdness. “Okay, uh… Number two. I understand the rule, but I guess I’m shocked that I’ll be going outside. You’re not worried about me escaping?”

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