"No! No! No!" I shout as tears trickle down my face. It was just a dream? Just a dream.
"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," Dean says quietly.
I sit up quickly and glare at him. "I am not okay! I am not okay!" I shriek before taking deep breaths and wiping my face. "Don't tell me that. Ever. I'm not fucking okay. I need to get out of here!"
"Blake," he says with a sigh as he looks at me sadly, "let's go upstairs so you can eat."
"Right now?" I ask as I wipe the tears from my face.
"Yes, right now." He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his unruly hair. "I just don't know what the fuck Alex is thinking. He's fucking crazy. And Benny..." Dean says his name as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, which is precisely the way I feel about Benny.
I get up and follow him upstairs. They've been letting me come upstairs every day now. I guess they figured out that I really wouldn't run. Not with the threats they hold over my head about Cole and Aubry. When we round the corner, I'm surprised to see a guy with short blond hair sitting on a stool around the kitchen island. His back is facing us and he turns in his seat when he hears us approach. Both of our eyes widen when we look at each other, and I force myself to look away quickly, biting the inside of my lip before my jaw hits the floor.
"The fuck are you doing here, Con?" Dean asks from behind me.
"Grace asked me to wait for her while she showers," he replies with a shrug, not taking his eyes off me.
"Huh. When did you start dating?" Dean asks curiously, as I look between the two of them, wondering who the hell Grace is.
"Not long ago," the guy replies vaguely before returning his attention to me. His eyes travel my body, but something about the way he does it doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. When he looks back into my eyes his forehead wrinkles together, and he shakes his head in disbelief.
"How long?" he asks, turning around to face Dean.
"Soon. Fucking Fort Knox, you know."
"Yeah, dude, but...shit's gonna hit the fan soon. Rumors are going around and—fuck. You hear Jamie talked to my grandpa?" he asks.
Dean formally introduces me to Connor, who shakes my hand firmly and holds it in his grasp for a little too long.
For the next fifteen or twenty minutes I just sit there, quietly eating the pasta that Dean plated for me, while he and Connor speak in code. It's worse than listening to a conversation between Cole, Aubry, and Greg. I can tell these two have known each other for a long time. I don't know what shocks me more—the fact that they're such good friends, or the fact that Connor Benson, Mark's former client, that looks like he could be his own son, is sitting inches away from me and I can't say anything to him.
When I'm done eating, Dean takes my plate and waits for me to get up. The Grace girl never came down, so I guess I won't get to see her. Dean and Connor say goodbye to each other with a handshake and shoulder pat. I wave to Connor, but he strides over to me and wraps his arms around me, making me stiffen. His embrace reminds me of Cole's, and even though the thought of that makes me sad, something about it soothes me.
"I'm going to get you out of here," he whispers against my head before letting me go. He winks at me and turns around, leaving me gaping at his retreating figure.
Confusion clouds my head as I walk down the stairs, through the commercial kitchen of illegal shit, and into my room. I continue my dazed walk to the bathroom and think about Connor and his familiar face. Flashbacks of seeing him on the news with Mark at some point earlier this year invade my thoughts. He obviously knows who I am and the possibilities of what he could've been discussing with Dean make my heart flutter. When I walk back in the room, I see Dean sitting in the corner, playing with his phone. The phone I've dreamed of snatching away from him countless times so that I could use it to call somebody for help. The logical thing to do would be to call the police if I ever get a phone in my hands, but I'm too scared of what the consequences may be if I did that. I push my phone jacking thoughts aside and lay in bed quietly as I listen to him ramble about Alex and Jamie. I drift off into sleep and am awakened by the vibrating of his phone. I blink my eyes open, shifting in the bed to face Dean in the dark room, the only light coming from the phone held at his ear.
"Hey," he murmurs quietly. The softness in his voice sparks my interest; he never picks up the phone around me. "Nah, I'm still at Alex's. Yeah. You need anything? Call me if you do. And if he comes back you call the cops and call me next."
"Who was that? And why didn't you turn the light on?" I rasp as I sit up on the mattress. It is now pitch black in here and I can't see anything at all.
"My sister and I didn't wanna wake you up after I bored you to sleep giving you information about your kidnappers," he replies sarcastically.
I exhale harshly. "Sorry, I'm just so sleepy." I've never been this tired before in my life, so I chalk it up to the pregnancy. Dean has been giving me prenatal vitamins every day; he won't leave them here because he says it's not safe for anybody to know my situation. Because that's what it is, growing a child inside of one's body when you're being held hostage—a situation.
"I didn't know you had a sister."
He chuckles. "There's a lot you don't know about me, chick."
His words clink around in my head until they wedge themselves into my curiosity folder, and I'm thankful that he can't see my gaping face in the darkness.
I clear my throat. "You're right, so tell me. How old is your sister?"
I hear him exhale and shift off of the floor and I think he's leaving, until the edge of the mattress dips. My heart begins to beat rapidly, even though he's not close enough to touch me...yet. I squirm, moving myself back a little closer to the wall behind me and away from where I feel he is.
"Relax, chick. My ass was hurting from sitting on the floor. I'm not gonna hurt you." He takes a deep breath before muttering, "What the hell do I need to do to get you to understand I don't want to hurt you?"
"Why don't you? Everyone else here seems to not care whether or not I'm hurt."
"Hmm, why not hurt a pretty and innocent pregnant girl locked up? Eh...not my style," he says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
"You're an idiot," I mutter.
"Yeah, you've said," he replies, still smiling.
"So tell me," I push.
He groans. "My sister's twenty-four, has a three-year-old son. Cutest little boy in the world, really." My heart skips a beat, hearing the pride in his voice as he talks about his nephew.
"Do you have pictures?" I ask, already knowing the answer to that.
"Of course I do, what kind of uncle do you think I am?"
His phone lights up and he begins to scroll through his photo album. I try not to look too interested in seeing his pictures, I mean, I don't know if there are any naked people on there, but I'm too curious to care. I end up scooting right beside him and watching as he scrolls through photos of him by himself, with friends, Alex, and other people I don't recognize. There are a couple of him with a pretty brunette, he hovers on one of them before clicking on one of him with the most adorable little boy. In the picture, Dean is wearing a navy blue Cubs T-shirt and carrying the little boy, who is wearing the same outfit, on his shoulders. They're both smiling happily at the camera. I put my hand over his slowly, taking the phone from him, and he lets me. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time as I sit there, staring at the picture of him and the little boy. Tears fill my eyes as I look at their bright smiles and the bright sun and green grass around them. They're so happy. So free. And I'm so jealous.