Read Online Lost (Captive Heart #1) by Carrie Aarons - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Carrie Aarons
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could tell it was all over. I remember cancelling plans with Clark that night, too depressed to go anywhere and paste a smile on. I’d told him I had a virus.
It was such a shame. That he’d felt that his whole life was over at that moment.
He’d tried to kiss my forehead the other day. No he had kissed it. Why the hell did he have to do that?
I don’t even think he knew the power he had over me. Back in the day, he could have looked at me and motioned with this finger and I would have come crawling. I did do that. Over and over again. So desperate for him to love me back.
* * *
F ootsteps on gravel have me jarring awake, my surroundings confusing me for the first second until I remember where I am. I move to the window of the cabin, catching the motion of a person as they run by.
Wait. Not a person. The only person. Tucker.
And he’s … running.
Over the last two weeks, although we haven’t really spoken to each other, I have noticed his complexion getting better. His cheeks filling out as he wolfs down more and more food. His body getting stronger. Yeah, I’ve definitely noticed that.
But this is the first time I’ve seen him do any kind of physical activity. As I watch him wind his way through the paths around Camp Marsh, his wild brown curls jumping and swaying with each movement, it’s clear that this is also his first time getting back into any kind of physical activity.
He looks disjointed; the athlete I once knew has all but left his body. Sure, he still has the stature and the muscle definition, but he doesn’t cut through the air anymore, he doesn’t move with beautiful but strong grace. His body isn’t cooperating, his arms moving out of sync with his legs.
And his knee. I can tell its lagging behind, that left leg dragging just a little too long on each stride.
But at least Tucker is trying. My chest swells with emotion, as I’m sure this is the first time he’s tried at anything in years.
I shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t even go outside, but of course my stupid, proud heart doesn’t listen to a damn thing my head is screaming at it.
I venture out onto the porch of the cabin, standing and squinting at the bright morning rays reflecting off the lake. Tucker is just rounding the path back towards the mess hall, and I know he can see me now.
“You look great!” I wave like an incessant child. Jesus, I’m already embarrassing myself.
Tucker stops short, the sweats he found fitting his body in all of the right places. Way better than the ones I found look on me. His midnight-black eyes are sparkling, there is a glow to his olive skin. I can make out the brawny, built muscles coming back to his figure. It’s a wonder I don’t melt into a puddle of idiotic goop on the porch.
“I feel great. A little slow, but good. How did you … uh, sleep?”
I think he’s doing that trying thing again. “Great, actually. It’s so quiet out here. Not that it’s not quiet in Lancaster but you know—“
The sound of an engine cuts through all of that silence I was just blabbing on about.
In less than a second, Tucker is on me, his hand covering my mouth so tight I can barely breathe as he backs us up into cabin three. He maneuvers my body, shoving me hard against the back wall while his hand stays clamped on my mouth.
“Make a sound and I will knock you out.”
His voice is deadly and my heart plummets to my feet. Not only does he not trust me, but this just cements into my head why I’m actually here with him.
He’s taken me against my will. He’s not flirting, he’s not pursing anything with me. I am a victim. He is the bad guy.
I can feel my blood pressure rising, feel the fury creep its way up my throat.
After the sounds of the boat die down, Tucker waits an extra five minutes to finally remove his hand from over my lips.
“Jesus fuck, I am such a goddamn idiot!” I stomp across the cabin, furious at myself for reverting back to the way I acted when I was seventeen
It was such a shame. That he’d felt that his whole life was over at that moment.
He’d tried to kiss my forehead the other day. No he had kissed it. Why the hell did he have to do that?
I don’t even think he knew the power he had over me. Back in the day, he could have looked at me and motioned with this finger and I would have come crawling. I did do that. Over and over again. So desperate for him to love me back.
* * *
F ootsteps on gravel have me jarring awake, my surroundings confusing me for the first second until I remember where I am. I move to the window of the cabin, catching the motion of a person as they run by.
Wait. Not a person. The only person. Tucker.
And he’s … running.
Over the last two weeks, although we haven’t really spoken to each other, I have noticed his complexion getting better. His cheeks filling out as he wolfs down more and more food. His body getting stronger. Yeah, I’ve definitely noticed that.
But this is the first time I’ve seen him do any kind of physical activity. As I watch him wind his way through the paths around Camp Marsh, his wild brown curls jumping and swaying with each movement, it’s clear that this is also his first time getting back into any kind of physical activity.
He looks disjointed; the athlete I once knew has all but left his body. Sure, he still has the stature and the muscle definition, but he doesn’t cut through the air anymore, he doesn’t move with beautiful but strong grace. His body isn’t cooperating, his arms moving out of sync with his legs.
And his knee. I can tell its lagging behind, that left leg dragging just a little too long on each stride.
But at least Tucker is trying. My chest swells with emotion, as I’m sure this is the first time he’s tried at anything in years.
I shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t even go outside, but of course my stupid, proud heart doesn’t listen to a damn thing my head is screaming at it.
I venture out onto the porch of the cabin, standing and squinting at the bright morning rays reflecting off the lake. Tucker is just rounding the path back towards the mess hall, and I know he can see me now.
“You look great!” I wave like an incessant child. Jesus, I’m already embarrassing myself.
Tucker stops short, the sweats he found fitting his body in all of the right places. Way better than the ones I found look on me. His midnight-black eyes are sparkling, there is a glow to his olive skin. I can make out the brawny, built muscles coming back to his figure. It’s a wonder I don’t melt into a puddle of idiotic goop on the porch.
“I feel great. A little slow, but good. How did you … uh, sleep?”
I think he’s doing that trying thing again. “Great, actually. It’s so quiet out here. Not that it’s not quiet in Lancaster but you know—“
The sound of an engine cuts through all of that silence I was just blabbing on about.
In less than a second, Tucker is on me, his hand covering my mouth so tight I can barely breathe as he backs us up into cabin three. He maneuvers my body, shoving me hard against the back wall while his hand stays clamped on my mouth.
“Make a sound and I will knock you out.”
His voice is deadly and my heart plummets to my feet. Not only does he not trust me, but this just cements into my head why I’m actually here with him.
He’s taken me against my will. He’s not flirting, he’s not pursing anything with me. I am a victim. He is the bad guy.
I can feel my blood pressure rising, feel the fury creep its way up my throat.
After the sounds of the boat die down, Tucker waits an extra five minutes to finally remove his hand from over my lips.
“Jesus fuck, I am such a goddamn idiot!” I stomp across the cabin, furious at myself for reverting back to the way I acted when I was seventeen
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