By morning, I’ve thought of escaping at least a dozen times. I also probably got a combined total of thirty minutes of rest. Every time I started to drift away, dreams of the way Dean’s hands felt on me startled me awake. I can’t believe I kissed him. I mean, I can believe it on some level. After all, he did rescue me in a way, even if I didn’t ask to be rescued. There’s still a charm to him that I find alluring. A man so confident that he would literally stop at nothing to do what he thinks to be right is admirable, not to mention sexy, but the thought of Sean finding out is absolutely terrifying. I’m only realizing after being away from him that his hold over me is deeper than I ever imagined.

It’s not the kind of connection that exists between happy couples. The grip he has on me is a dark, shameful thing, and it’s buried so far down inside me that I don’t even know how to begin doing anything about it. Behind every thought, action, and word is the paralyzing certainty that he will find out. He’ll learn everything I say or do to defy him and he’ll take it all out on me blow by blow.

But behind the fear is something I haven’t felt in a long time, something so unfamiliar and strange it frightens me. I think it’s hope. Dean is offering me hope. No, he’s promising me hope, and what scares me more than anything is the possibility that I might start to believe I can take the freedom he’s dangling in front of me.

How strange is that? He’s offering me freedom by taking mine away. But there it is. Freedom from Sean and all the poison he brings to my life.

My best friend, Selene, would be thrilled if I left Sean. God knows she’s been trying to talk me into it for long enough. It just never seems like the right time, or a good idea. If she knew exactly what it was like between us, she’d probably have killed Sean with her bare hands by now. All she knows is he’s verbally abusive. When she has spotted the bruises, I’ve always had stories to cover it up.

I blow out a long breath, staring at the ceiling in Dean’s bedroom. It’s still dark out as the morning sun threatens to rise but hasn’t quite made its appearance. I wonder if Dean’s still asleep. I could call Selene now without him even knowing. I wonder how mad he would be if I invited her here for emotional support. Probably pretty mad… Then again, Selene will be just as mad if I don’t tell her. Especially if she finds out he took me hostage and is forcing me to pretend to be his fiancée. Selene is like one of those chihuahuas that looks small and cute, but can turn into a biting demon at the slightest provocation. Maybe the two of them would just kind of cancel each other out.

I lay there in Dean’s bed puzzling it out for nearly half an hour, marveling at how strange a situation I’ve found myself in. I even think of my parents for the first time in months. I spare a few thoughts for what they would think if they saw me now, how disappointed they would be. At least until I realize they wouldn’t be disappointed at all. They would probably laugh about it with each other, taking delight in how the world has turned against me. They would think it was the least I deserve.

A hot tear slips from my eye as I lay on my side, using my nose like a little ramp and pattering soundlessly to the pillow. Of all the things in this world, nothing holds the same sting as my parents’ hatred. It’s a burden I hold inside like a hot coal. It’s agonizingly painful, but in some of my darkest moments, it’s the fire that pushed me onward. Sometimes it’s the only thing that drives me to persevere so that maybe one day I can prove them wrong.

Fat chance of that, though.

Once I’m done feeling sorry for myself, I decide Dean can’t really do anything worse to me than he already has. He’s not going to hurt me. I don’t even think he would really lock me in his basement like he threatened at first. But Dean isn’t without his dangers, chief of which is how it felt to be tangled up with him, hands roaming his hard, muscular body, and how safe I feel with him.

The threat of Sean hung behind every second of it, and when he asked if I liked it rough, it brought the memories to the forefront, and all I could see was the expression I knew Sean would wear if he saw us together.

I slip out of his room into the long, winding hallway outside and find an unoccupied room that’s set up like a movie theater with about a dozen cushy leather seats lined up in front of a huge projector screen.

I’m a little surprised Dean didn’t take my cell phone, but I guess he thought the only person I was in danger of calling was Sean. I wonder if he even considered the possibility that I’d call the cops. Maybe he has enough money to bribe his way out of trouble and just doesn’t care. Either way, I never planned on it. Sean made sure I harbor a very healthy fear of involving the police. To be honest, the thought didn’t even cross my mind until now, and if I was tempted, all I have to do is think of how that would end up if his money couldn’t get him out of it.

They’d arrest Dean. They’d leave that little girl without a father and with those two goofs in charge of her. Then I’d end up back with Sean, getting beaten until I can’t see straight for what happened. No. Not going to happen. I’ll bring Selene in on this and she’ll know what to do. Maybe. Or she might just show up like the angry little woman she is and start screaming. Either way, I could use her here.

I have second thoughts about how much my voice might carry and decide to sneak even farther away from Dean, running down the stairs and out the back patio by the pool. I’m a little breathless from my quick escape outside. I wince at the number of missed calls I have from Selene before punching in her number and waiting.

“Okay,” says Selene through the receiver in an angry voice. “I’m going to give you three seconds to hang up if you’re a telemarketer. If you’re still on the phone after that, you give me the legal right to unload a verbal ass-kicking on you straight out of the Old Testament, so think fast and think wisely. Three… Two…”

I know I shouldn’t test her, especially not at a time like this, but I just can’t resist. “I just wanted to tell you about our vacuums ma'am, they really suck!”

There’s a slight pause before Selene breathlessly responds. “Cammy?”

“Hey,” I say nervously.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demands with the full force of an angry mother, even though she’s never had kids. “You were supposed to call me last night and I’ve called you half a million times already. You know I worry about you.”

“Would you believe me if I said I kinda got kidnapped?”

“I’d start by asking you how the hell you can get ‘kinda’ kidnapped. Is someone only sort of keeping you against your will? Do you kinda have the option to leave but you kinda don’t?” Her voice is angry and full of doubt, but I’m surprised at how close her description comes to truth.

“Kinda,” I say, grinning.

“Has he hurt you? Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine. He hasn’t hurt me, and I don’t think he will. It’s… complicated.”

“Camille, I swear to Moses, you better explain how I can help fast, or I’m going to find you on my own and I’ll end you with my bare hands.”

For a few moments, I lost myself in the conversation, in the familiar back-and-forth with my best friend, and I almost forgot where I was and why. But a quick look toward the mansion and the extravagant pool and patio brings me back to reality and sours my mood. “I can’t be that far from the motel Sean and I were staying at. He drove for like twenty maybe thirty minutes. He didn’t blindfold me or anything so I was able to read the address on my way in. You can probably just punch it into your phone.” I laugh a little, realizing how ridiculous what I’m saying is. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, it would be crazy for you to actually come. I don’t think he’s actually going to hurt me, but I don’t really know him that well. I could be totally wrong. It might not be safe here.”

“Tough shit,” says Selene. “I was in my car thirty seconds ago.”

For a second, I think she’s bluffing, but I hear the soft, persistent ding of her car telling her to put on her seatbelt.

“Put on your seatbelt,” I say.

“Okay, Mom. It’s on.”

“Then why is the car still dinging at you?” I ask.

She sighs dramatically and the dinging finally stops. “You can get kinda kidnapped and I can’t even drive out of the parking lot without a seatbelt? Why do you get to hog all the exciting danger?”

“There’s nothing exciting about a parking lot car accident,” I say seriously. “You know most accidents happen in parking lots.”

She makes a frustrated sound. “Maybe I should leave you there and let you keep getting kinda kidnapped.”

“Yes,” I say. “You should. Seriously. I shouldn’t have even called you, I was just--ugh, I don’t even know.”

“You were calling me because you need me, Cammy,” says Selene. “And as long as this guy doesn’t have guns or a rocket launcher or something, I’m going to kick through the door to the craphole where he’s keeping you and I’m going to kick his ass.”

I laugh. “I think I’d pay to see that. But it’s not exactly a craphole. It’s... well, you’ll see.” She has always made similar threats about Sean, but deep down we both knew if she ever tried to step in on my behalf, it’d only make it worse. There was that, and my inexplicable desire for her to leave well enough alone. But it was never well enough, was it? Not even close.

“Good. I’m behind on rent again,” she says. “Think you could pay like a hundred and twenty-five to see that? Make it a hundred and forty-five, I might grab some takeout on my way. Anyway, text me the address, I was out of town so It’ll be a little bit, but I gotta go, they are doing prank calls on the radio and I need to hear this next--”

The phone clicks. Wow, she couldn’t even wait to finish her own sentence. I shake my head, grinning as I punch in the address and shoot off a text to her.

I step inside to find Murph and Tanner taking turns trying to spin a vase that looks very expensive on the kitchen island. They aren’t wearing suits like the night before. Tanner wears a black t-shirt with pajama bottoms and Murph is wearing a hoodie with sweatpants. I’m guessing they both just woke up, and decided this was how they wanted to start their morning. Tanner has the decency to look embarrassed when I catch them, but Murph just keeps spinning the vase, getting it to spin for an impressively long time before it wobbles and nearly crashes to the floor..

“Don’t tell me,” says Murph. “You’re actually a phone sex operator and you had a client who couldn’t wait for your phone to charge. We saw you making that sneaky call, Camille. Naughty, naughty.”

Tanner smirks. “That explains how Dean met her. He’s probably been making those phone girls earn their money all these years. Camille was just unlucky enough to catch his interest.”

“What’s that?” asks Dean, who strides into the kitchen with a dark look on his face. Despite the early hour, he’s already dressed impeccably in a casual, navy blue sport coat and a crisp white dress shirt. His tanned skin looks delectable against the colors, and I spend a little longer than is seemly roaming his body and face with my eyes. I let my gaze linger especially long on his lips, remembering how they felt against mine.

Kissing him was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Being with Sean was always clinical. Sean hardly kisses me anymore to begin with, and even when we first started dating, there was something off in the way he kissed. I don’t know if it registered at the time, or if it did, I thought I didn’t deserve any better so I just let it be. It always felt like he was just going through the motions, as if being with me served some purpose beyond the act itself, and it was only the goal that concerned him. He took to any intimacy with the same mechanical efficiency that a farmer might plow a field he has worked for years.

Dean, on the other hand… Just the memory flushes my cheeks. I’ve read books and seen movies where they talk about a spark between two people. I could never relate until now, even though what I felt with Dean was less like a spark and more like a thunderbolt. There was something primal pulling me to him, an animal need and lust like nothing I’ve ever felt, a desire so strong it overcame reason and logic when our lips were pressed together. In those moments it was as if his strength flowed through me, and I could imagine leaving Sean. I could imagine being the kind of woman who takes her life by the horns and makes it her own.

When he asked if I like it rough, I suddenly felt like Sean was there, standing between us. The threat of violence brought back storehouses of unwelcome memories, shattering the fragile illusion of happiness.

It was for the best though. Had I let Dean finish what he started, I would’ve never been able to hide it from Sean. This… Maybe this I can hide. I hope.

Dean still stands in the doorway, arms folded as he glares at his brothers.

Tanner and Murph both look like schoolboys who have been caught in the act by their mother. I start to see the shape of the family dynamic forming in front of me. Their reaction to Dean makes him seem more like a father to them than a brother.

“Nothing,” says Murph.

Dean slaps Murph casually on the shoulder. “Good. Because nothing won’t make me kick your ass. On the other hand, if there was something… If you were giving Camille a hard time, for example, that might be a different story.”

“We could take you,” says Murph.

Tanner takes a half step away from Murph and gives Dean the slightest shake of his head.

“Yeah?” asks Dean.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly feels thick and tense with impending violence. A jolt of real fear runs through me, and for a moment I feel the same dark energy in the air that I feel when Sean is in one of his moods. “Guys, it’s okay,” I say, heart pounding.

But neither man hears me. Are they really about to fight because of this? My certainty that Dean is no danger to me starts to fade as I watch him stare his brother down, powerful body tensed and ready to act.

Murph takes a step toward Dean, looking totally outmatched, despite the few inches he has on him. “You think you can take us? We’d like to see you try,” he says, lunging forward in an attempt to tackle Dean.

Tanner winks at me, grinning as he steps even farther back and plops down at the kitchen island to watch them fight. Tanner’s demeanor helps me to relax a little--like he’s seen this before. It might even be normal between these brothers. I guess the only violence I’ve ever been around was intended to be malicious..

“I got him wrapped up!” shouts Murph, who is already being flipped and thrown to the ground by Dean. “Kick his nuts!” shouts Murph. “Kick them!”

“You got this,” says Tanner in an amused monotone.

“Traitor!” says Murph, who has just now seen that Tanner didn’t join in the fight.

Dean, apparently knowing his brothers well enough, lets Murph out from his hold and watches as Murph charges Tanner. Tanner pops up and meets the charge as both men collide in a tangle of lanky limbs and legs. The two thin giants struggle against each other until Tanner apparently bites Murph on the arm.

“No biting!” growls Murph.

“You were tickling me,” complains Tanner.

And with that, the last of my apprehension fades. There was no real danger here, just brothers roughhousing.

Dean motions for me to follow him as his brothers argue back and forth and break into another wrestling match.

When we’re in the other room and the sound of their fighting is muffled, he raises his eyebrows. “Sorry about them,” he says. “They had a strange childhood, it’s not their fault.”

“Same childhood as you,” I say, “and you seem normal enough.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, Camille. I did kidnap you, after all.”

“That’s a good point,” I say. “Um, I should probably tell you since you’ll find out soon anyway. I may have called my friend and told her where we were. And she may be coming to ‘rescue’ me. I just felt like I owed you a warning, because she’s a little bit… well, she’s something. And I thought you should know.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know the worst thing you can do as a hostage is escape. The second worst thing you can do is call in a rescue mission.”

“Mission?” I say. “That might be giving Selene too much credit. A mission is a plan, it has purpose, and it can happen cleanly. Selene is like a wrecking ball, or a bomb. Or maybe just a big, heavy ball strapped to a chain that you can smash things with.”

“I thought you were friends,” says Dean.

“No, I don’t mean she’s heavy, I was just trying to--nevermind. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Consider me warned,” he says.

A moment passes and I can see something in Dean’s eyes, as if there’s more he wants to say. “I spoke carelessly,” he says. “Last night. When--”

“Let’s not talk about it,” I say quickly. “Look, I know how this all must look to you. Why would I want to go back to a guy like Sean, right? But it’s more complicated than that. I can’t just…” I make a frustrated sound. “I don’t know.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it,” he says.

“No,” I say, annoyed. “That’s bullshit. It’s as complicated as it is. Don’t you think if I could just wish it all away I would?”

“I didn’t say it isn’t real, Camille. I said it doesn’t have to be complicated.”

I shake my head. “Then you don’t understand. You don’t understand a thing.”

“I understand more than you think,” he says, taking a step closer.

His hand is on my arm, and even the innocent touch lights my nerves on fire, flashing waves of hot excitement through my traitorous body. I want to pull back. I should pull back, but I’m weak, and with his hands on me I’m able to believe that Sean can’t get to me.

“I know that,” I say with less conviction than I’d like.

“You’re stronger than you think you are.”

I expect some kind of grand, inspirational speech, but that’s all he says. Except he says it with so much confidence and conviction it’s like the words are pushed into me, as if he can make them true just because he wills them to be.

“Daddy,” says Jen, making me jump and pull back from Dean, even though I’m supposed to be pretending to be his fiancée, I feel like we were just caught doing something inappropriate. She leans in the hallway leading to the sitting room Dean pulled me into, holding a jar of peanut butter. “I have the best idea you’ve ever heard. Peanut butter and jelly jars. Jelly on one side, peanut butter on the other. You’re welcome. Oh, and Daddy, I want to steal Camille for a little bit. We need to have some girl talk.”

Dean quirks an eyebrow. “Pretty sure they already have that. And who says you can just--”

“Okay,” I say cheerily, hurrying to follow Jen and enjoying leaving Dean in a confused huff of manly irritation more than I probably should. Part of me is glad to see Jen seeking me out this early. After the cold reception I got from her last night, I thought I could probably only expect the silent treatment from here on out.

Jen leads me outside by the pool. The sun has mostly risen now, and I can fully appreciate the landscape for the first time. The entire crystal blue expanse of water is made to look natural with sheetrock, cobblestones, and even a bubbling waterfall that trickles through the stones from a grassy bowl of water on a small hill. I realize there’s also a section of the pool that leads below the house, and if my guess isn’t wrong, it looks like it leads to a section of the pool that is indoors.

Jen takes me to a wooden structure where a bed hangs suspended by four ropes at each corner. “C’mon,” she says, hopping up and laying on her back with her feet dangling over the edge. “You’ll love it.”

I can’t help smiling a little as I hop on beside her. The bed sways gently when I climb on, and I stare up through the wide openings in the roof at the blue sky and the clouds lazily sliding by.

“You said we had to have some girl talk,” I say. “Should I be worried?” I look over to Jen, who is staring at the sky with a small smile on her face. She’s a beautiful little girl, but she has eyes older than her years, and I recognize the look from my own childhood. From my experience, little girls only get that kind of hardness and wisdom in their eyes when they’ve suffered a great tragedy, and I can’t help wondering what happened. When I look at the life she has and the father she has, I can’t imagine what could go wrong, but then again, if she’s Dean’s daughter, where is her mother?

I assumed divorce before, but now I’m not so sure, not after seeing Jen up close and getting a sense of the pain in her past.

“Only if you’re planning to hurt my daddy.”

I laugh. “I’m harmless.Trust me.”

“Good,” she says, threading her fingers over her small belly and looking over at me with the kind of ease and lack of self-consciousness only a child can manage. It feels good though, like this little girl might actually come to accept me given time, and I never knew how badly I needed that until now. “So, how long have you two been together?”

Dangerous question. Dean never said how long he claimed to have been dating this fictional woman. “It has all gone by so fast, to be honest,” I say quickly. “He seems a little moody here though. I’m used to him being more… happy. Is he always like this at home?” Maybe it’s a dangerous question on my end, but at least it changes the subject.

“Hmm,” says Jen. “Daddy is happy, I think. He just worries about me. He doesn’t really know how to talk to me about what happened, so he just doesn’t, and I think he thinks about it a lot.”

“Right,” I say, not wanting to admit I don’t know what happened, because it’s probably something his fiancée should know. “Well, hey,” I say. “You can talk about it with me, if you want.”

She gives me an odd look, and I can’t tell if she’s appreciative of my offer, or inwardly laughing at the idea of her confiding in me so soon.

We spend nearly an hour just lying together, chatting when it suits us and enjoying the silence of the morning when it doesn’t. She still keeps me at an emotional arm’s length, clearly unsure of how she wants this all to proceed or what her final ruling is on me, but knowing she’s willing to give me a chance warms my heart. There’s a peace in being here with her, a peace I wouldn’t have imagined in a million years considering I’m a hostage. It feels good to be needed, even though I doubt Jen will ever admit to needing me. I can tell this little girl has bottled up so much, and she probably could really use a woman in her life to vent it all out with. Some crazy part of my mind even goes to the fact that I’d be able to stay a part of her life if I was with Dean for real. I’d spend holidays laughing around a table at his crazy brother’s jokes and with Jen... Dean would be there with us too. With me.

I can’t tell if this whole situation is just making me lose it, but I already feel less like a hostage with Dean than I did with Sean, and the stubborn fantasy Dean has sparked in me is starting to seem a lot less crazy, not to mention a lot less stupid.