Captive To Captivated

Part 7

❤ PLEASE VOTE ❤

Jason

The following morning I woke up on the couch with my neck feeling stiff and my mood still irritated. I sat myself up, lifting my hand to the back of my neck, pressing my fingers into the muscles while rotating my head to try and ease the dull ache. The television was still on. I must have fallen asleep down here.

I picked the remote off the floor that was now being held together by several pieces of tape and switched it off. Rubbing my face with one hand, I dragged myself to the kitchen. My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten at all last night. I was way too worked up with everything that was going wrong. It then came to my attention that Carmella must've been starving too.

Wait... Carmella.

I suddenly remembered that we had a girl being held captive upstairs and left the kitchen as soon as I entered it, making my way up the creaking stairs two at a time. I pulled out the small silver key from my pocket and unlocked her door before opening it, making sure she was still there. Not that there was any way out.

The room was dim due to the curtains being drawn but the light was still on from when I switched it last night. I stayed at the door frame and saw her lying uncomfortably on her side with her hands still restrained over her head. Her eyes were shut but there was a frown settled into her expression as she slept. Still angry with her and therefore satisfied by her uneasiness, I kept staring at her. This felt like the first time I'd gotten a proper look at the girl since I'd laid eyes on her at the bank.

She was wearing a pastel green, button up T-shirt with black skinny jeans and her black Converse with a shoelace untied. On the left breast pocket of her shirt there was black embroidery with the words 'The Burger Bar' embedded into the material. I assumed it was her work uniform. I realised I was staring at her chest, but I couldn't look away instantly. I moved my gaze down her tiny waist and to her rounded hips. She had a killer body; petite but still curvy.

...I was checking out my hostage and it felt morally wrong.

I looked back up to her face where her long, dark brown hair was sprawled on the mattress next to her. Her eyes were closed but I could picture her piercing green orbs in my head. My mind flashed back to first seeing them yesterday. I didn't have to see the rest of her face to know how terrified she was. It was all in her eyes. 

Tim emerged from his room causing me to snap out of it. I looked over at his tired face and bed hair and nodded a 'hey'. He nodded back. 

"How's she doing?" He asked and walked over to the door, peeking in himself.

"Horribly I'm guessing," I looked back at her pained face. 

I noticed a dark mark on her cheekbone from punching her last night and felt something stir in my stomach. It could have been remorse, or maybe it was just hunger. I didn't realise I had hit her that hard. Then again, I don't realise half the things I do when I'm angry.

Tim must have noticed it too. "I thought I told you not to touch her until we talked first and figured out what we were going to do." I could feel him looking at me in discontent for not listening to him. I kept quiet as I flicked off her light and closed the door, locking it before walking down to the kitchen again. 

"Jason." I heard him follow me down the stairs. "Jason."

"I just went to check up on her!" I defended, avoiding his glare. "You weren't here when I came back, I just went in for a second. I didn't mean to−"