Page 62 of A Captive Situation

She muttered, “You’re probably right. I just thought for a second—”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. This room is amazing. Your whole place is amazing.”

“Thanks.” He sounded proud. “Oliver ... Oliver comes from money.” His voice hushed at the end.

Sawyer was quiet.

He rushed ahead, his voice rising a little. “Not that his job doesn’t do well. He does. He’s in real estate. And I do well, too, but we were only able to afford this place because of his family’s money. He’s notpretentious, though. At all. Thank goodness. I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t tell anyone in the family. My mom doesn’t even know—”

He would’ve kept rambling, but Sawyer cut in, speaking softly. “I won’t say anything. Oliver is amazing. You guys seem so happy. How long have you been together?”

“Thanks.” He sighed in relief. “We’ve been together for almost eighteen years.”

“Eighteen?” Her voice dipped low.

Jesus. Eighteen. It was the same amount of time she’d been with Douchebag.

“I dated a little when I first came here but met him after a few months. It’s been him ever since.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Sawyer.”

A pregnant silence took over them.

Graham said, hesitating, “I know there’s a lot to talk about, like real stuff. We didn’t get into it tonight, but I have to ask. Can I—you were terrified when I came to get you. It’s obvious the aunts don’t know about that part, but Sawyer, you thought I might’ve been followed. I need to know. Are we—are you in any danger? Are we?”

She didn’t reply right away. When she did, her voice was low. “I—I don’t know, to be honest. My head’s been a mess with everything. I’ve been fucking everything up since I got here.”

“What do you mean?”

She was silent again for a few beats. “I think in the beginning, I couldn’t handle what my ex did to me. I’ve done it since I was a kid. If something’s happening in my life that I can’t cope with, my mind breaks off. I daydream or I think up these things. It’s a coping mechanism. Like dissociating a little. I can’t answer because I’m not sure myself. Does that make sense?”

That was fucked up. She’d seen two guys try to shoot us. I killed themin frontof her.

I’d explained everything to her.

But then you locked her in the bedroom when you left, too,a voice spoke up in the back of my head. I ignored that voice. I couldn’t afford to wait around and see if she took it seriously. I needed answers. We needed answers. There was no time to hold her hand. Locking her up was the best option for both of us.

She groaned. “I think I just need to sleep. I’m sure things will make sense in the morning.”

“Okay. If you’re sure?”

“I am. I’m sorry. I’m not intending to keep you in the dark. I just want to make certain that I’m sure about what I’m going to say. There could be ramifications.”

He was quiet until he murmured, gently, “If you think that’s the right thing to do. I can wait, but tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. Not the aunts. They can’t know. God,” she exclaimed. “They would lose their shit if they found out.”

He said good night after that.

She went to the bathroom, was in there a while, before moving back to the room. The bed creaked. She seemed to be settling to go to sleep when there was a soft knock at her door.

The bed creaked again. She padded to the door, opening it. “Hey?”

One of her aunts was there. “Hey, sweetie. I just wanted to check on you. How are you really doing?”

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