Read Online Captivated (Talented Saga #3.5) by Sophie Davis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sophie Davis
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my teeth and stood
anyway.
Rigsby stepped farther into the
cell, allowing Mr. McDonough enough space to squeeze in behind him. To my
utter astonishment, Mr. McDonough was Donavon. He was dressed in a
dark business suit and tie, a younger version of his
father.
“Thanks, Rigsby, you can wait
outside,” Donavon said in a low voice. He kept his eyes on me while
he spoke.
“Are you sure, sir? We’ve had some
trouble with, um, the prisoner,” Rigsby said, shifting
uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His unease was for me,
not Donavon. In my weakened condition, he feared I would not be
able to defend myself if Donavon decided to take out years of
hatred and animosity on my face.
“Kelley and I will be just fine,” Donavon cracked
his knuckles, “won’t we, Erik?”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up in
my throat. Donavon was trying to intimidate me, really? After
everything his father had done to me, Donavon was the least of my
worries. Besides, I could hold my own if push came to shove; the
fight wasn’t out of me yet.
“Sure, you can go,” I told Rigsby.
Rigsby hesitated a moment longer
before backpedaling into the hallway. “I’ll be right outside if you
need me,” he said.
Once we were alone, Donavon and I
sized each other up. Neither of us wanted to be the first to break
the silence. For my part, I had nothing to say. Mostly I felt sorry
for Donavon, he’d been through a lot in the past couple of years.
And as much as I hated to admit it, what he’d done for Alex gave me
a smidgen of respect for him.
While I contemplated the reason
for his visit, Donavon crossed the tiny cell in three long strides,
catching me surprise with his quick movements. Suddenly we were
standing nose to nose. The proximity made me want to back up, but I
had nowhere to go. Donavon grabbed my shoulder and searched my face
with an intensity that unnerved me.
“Can you hear me?” his voice asked inside my head. His eyes grew
wider as he concentrated harder, the orbs nearly popping out of his
face.
Once again I felt the need to back
away. Donavon’s fingers were digging into bruised flesh, but I kept
my expression blank and stood my ground.
“Yeah, I hear you,” I sent back warily. This type of mental
communication was too intimate to share with Donavon. I didn’t want
to see into his head.
“Is Alex safe? Can you see him? Is
he still with Talia? Pretend his hurts.”
Donavon drew his free hand back,
made a fist, and drilled it into my stomach. Only when he actually
made contact, his knuckles barely touched my dirty shirt. The jab
had come so quickly that his words didn’t register in time for me
to react.
“Jesus, Kelley, how much of that drug have they
given you?”
Donavon pushed me backwards, the
backs of my knees hit the wire frame of the bed, and involuntarily
I sat. The whole encounter was surreal, like the visions of Talia,
and I had to pinch my arm to make sure this was actually
happening.
“Erik!” Donavon sent. “Focus. Is Alex
safe?”
I nodded stupidly. At the mention
of Alex, I instantly saw him in my mind. He sat in a man’s lap, a
man I knew well. My father. They were on a blue couch in the same
tidy living room where I’d seen Talia become the wolf.
“Is he with Talia?”
I shook my head no.
“Do you know where Talia is?”
“Sort of,” I replied, no more eager to share my crazy theory that she
was with Ian Crane and the not-dead Penny with Donavon than I was
to share it with his father.
“Don’t think about her. When they
take you to see Dr. Wythe, don’t think about Talia or Alex or
whoever else they are with. Do you understand?”
Through the mental connection, his
tone suggested he was talking to a child or someone slow in the
head. He probably thought I was slow in the head, my sluggish
reaction time and confused expression probably supported the
theory.
“I get it,” I sent.
Donavon straightened, smoothed his suit, and fixed
his tie, which had gone askew when he
anyway.
Rigsby stepped farther into the
cell, allowing Mr. McDonough enough space to squeeze in behind him. To my
utter astonishment, Mr. McDonough was Donavon. He was dressed in a
dark business suit and tie, a younger version of his
father.
“Thanks, Rigsby, you can wait
outside,” Donavon said in a low voice. He kept his eyes on me while
he spoke.
“Are you sure, sir? We’ve had some
trouble with, um, the prisoner,” Rigsby said, shifting
uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His unease was for me,
not Donavon. In my weakened condition, he feared I would not be
able to defend myself if Donavon decided to take out years of
hatred and animosity on my face.
“Kelley and I will be just fine,” Donavon cracked
his knuckles, “won’t we, Erik?”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up in
my throat. Donavon was trying to intimidate me, really? After
everything his father had done to me, Donavon was the least of my
worries. Besides, I could hold my own if push came to shove; the
fight wasn’t out of me yet.
“Sure, you can go,” I told Rigsby.
Rigsby hesitated a moment longer
before backpedaling into the hallway. “I’ll be right outside if you
need me,” he said.
Once we were alone, Donavon and I
sized each other up. Neither of us wanted to be the first to break
the silence. For my part, I had nothing to say. Mostly I felt sorry
for Donavon, he’d been through a lot in the past couple of years.
And as much as I hated to admit it, what he’d done for Alex gave me
a smidgen of respect for him.
While I contemplated the reason
for his visit, Donavon crossed the tiny cell in three long strides,
catching me surprise with his quick movements. Suddenly we were
standing nose to nose. The proximity made me want to back up, but I
had nowhere to go. Donavon grabbed my shoulder and searched my face
with an intensity that unnerved me.
“Can you hear me?” his voice asked inside my head. His eyes grew
wider as he concentrated harder, the orbs nearly popping out of his
face.
Once again I felt the need to back
away. Donavon’s fingers were digging into bruised flesh, but I kept
my expression blank and stood my ground.
“Yeah, I hear you,” I sent back warily. This type of mental
communication was too intimate to share with Donavon. I didn’t want
to see into his head.
“Is Alex safe? Can you see him? Is
he still with Talia? Pretend his hurts.”
Donavon drew his free hand back,
made a fist, and drilled it into my stomach. Only when he actually
made contact, his knuckles barely touched my dirty shirt. The jab
had come so quickly that his words didn’t register in time for me
to react.
“Jesus, Kelley, how much of that drug have they
given you?”
Donavon pushed me backwards, the
backs of my knees hit the wire frame of the bed, and involuntarily
I sat. The whole encounter was surreal, like the visions of Talia,
and I had to pinch my arm to make sure this was actually
happening.
“Erik!” Donavon sent. “Focus. Is Alex
safe?”
I nodded stupidly. At the mention
of Alex, I instantly saw him in my mind. He sat in a man’s lap, a
man I knew well. My father. They were on a blue couch in the same
tidy living room where I’d seen Talia become the wolf.
“Is he with Talia?”
I shook my head no.
“Do you know where Talia is?”
“Sort of,” I replied, no more eager to share my crazy theory that she
was with Ian Crane and the not-dead Penny with Donavon than I was
to share it with his father.
“Don’t think about her. When they
take you to see Dr. Wythe, don’t think about Talia or Alex or
whoever else they are with. Do you understand?”
Through the mental connection, his
tone suggested he was talking to a child or someone slow in the
head. He probably thought I was slow in the head, my sluggish
reaction time and confused expression probably supported the
theory.
“I get it,” I sent.
Donavon straightened, smoothed his suit, and fixed
his tie, which had gone askew when he
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