Chapter Eleven #3
She pushes me away, “Well then, you’re crazy, Austin. I kidnapped you...I tased you.”
“I tased you back. So I think we’re even on that front.”
“It’s not a joke! I keep thinking there’s either something unbelievably wrong with me...or you...or both of us. I keep going round and round, and I can’t make sense of it.”
“Not everything has to make sense, Olivia.”
“This should, Austin. I mean, you get free from the basement, where you’ve not really been chained up, and then you ask to take me on a date...It’s ridiculous.”
“Okay, this is going to take time. I’m a patient man.”
“Doubt it.”
“I was chained in your basement for five days.”
“Technically, not chained.”
“Well, Luca, the guy you met, he gave me the pick a few days ago. I’ve just been unchaining them while you’ve been asleep so I could get comfy. And that really was the best mattress I’ve ever slept on. I wanted to get the full experience.” I take her hand and run my thumb over her knuckles.
Changing tack, I ask, “Are you ready for our date?”
She looks down at herself and laughs.
“I’m wearing workout gear.”
As if I fucking care what she’s wearing. “You could wear a trash bag, Olivia. I’ll take you anywhere.”
I push a loose strand behind her ear and drag my fingertips down her neck before gripping firmly. It’s a risk, but I think she needs me to take control right now.
“Go get ready, baby. Wear whatever you want. ”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I smirk.
Her eyes roll, and she nods.
Our drive into the city is so smooth, it feels like we’re elevating. Not a single bump or swerve the entire time. It is as if everything uncertain and chaotic is bubbling inside the vehicle. Thankfully, Jimmy is driving, so I can keep my focus on Olivia.
Her nose is almost touching the blacked-out window, her body turned completely away from me. Not a great start. She isn’t talking either, but I wouldn’t know what to say if she did.
Part of my role with my father was playing a part. Generally speaking, people are more terrified of long silences than they are of verbal threats. The silence leaves room for guessing, for imaginations to run wild at what torture you have in store for them.
Perhaps Olivia is better at this than she thinks. She did successfully kidnap me with a little help, and now she has me sweating and pulling the collar away from my neck.
The balance of power has shifted astronomically in the last twenty-four hours, and I’ve mentally prepared that this might not be a smooth transition for her.
Sure, she’s agreed to a date, but she’s taken a lot of cajoling.
At least I’ve finally had a real shower. I’ve trimmed my beard, tidying up the scruff. Running my hand over the bristles, the sound was soothing. From the way her eyes dipped, I bet she liked it too.
I still remember how she descended the stairs, the light from the upstairs window lighting her up from behind like some ethereal creature.
Her red sundress embroidered with daisies that seemed to float along the fabric.
The hem fell just above the knee, showing off her toned legs.
The bodice squeezing in at her waist and tight enough that her tits pressed against the fabric into a sweetheart neckline .
Her loose waves cascade over her shoulder, preventing me from reading her face.
At least she’s not crying anymore. I’m sure her anxiety today has been an accumulation of overthinking and guilt over what she’s done.
I just have to reassure her that this is the best thing that could have happened for us. It’s led us to tonight.
I cough lightly. She’s like a deer in headlights, and I don’t want to startle her.
“There’s a restaurant called Harvest. We’re going there.”
She turns, eyes wide and beaming.
“Harvest? Oh my god. I’ve wanted to go there for ages.”
I smile. “Good.” I reach out for her hand and draw it to my lips, kissing her knuckles.
Thank god I’ve done something right. I dare not look at her face, so I take my turn to stare out the window. She doesn’t let go of my hand the rest of the way.
◆◆◆
“This isn’t chicken.” I stare down at my plate before looking over at Olivia’s across from me.
The restaurant is the perfect setting for a first date. We’re on the patio, a miracle in itself given that we’re in Washington State, but they have heaters on now that there’s a chill in the air.
The string lights twinkle above us, creating a night sky usually unseen in the cloudy Seattle night.
She has my jacket around her shoulders and is eating a chicken burger with wholegrain mustard mayo, lettuce that came from my indoor farm, and a wholemeal bun where the wheat was grown in the field down the road from Olivia’s house.
This is why I chose Harvest for tonight.
I knew Olivia would love that they knew exactly where all their ingredients came from, and it meant I got to try out some of my products in actual meals.
It also helped that when I was sneaking around her house the other night, the menu was open on her laptop.
But hey, why spoil the magic by telling her where I get my intel?
However, my chicken with brown rice and sesame broccolini is coming up short on a few key ingredients.
I push my fork around the plate as Olivia peers over the top of her burger.
The lines around her eyes deepen, and she turns away to focus on something else, pressing her lips together.
“Are you laughing at me, Miss Daniels?”
“Absolutely not,” she snorts. “I just never thought I’d see the day when you’d be eating a grilled eggplant salad.”
“Is that what this is? It’s very...squidgy.” A bit of eggplant flops back onto the plate with a squelch, and my stomach heaves a little.
Pull it together, man.
I shovel some in my mouth. What the living fuck? My tongue pulls to the back of my mouth, trying to escape the slimy invasion that's now resting on my tastebuds.
Olivia is watching me intently as she takes another humungous bite of her burger, looking very fucking pleased with herself.
“Definitely not chicken.” I retch. “Where’s my meat?”
She laughs, and bits of burger spray out of her mouth. Good. We can both be disgusting.
“Oh my god.” Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t know where your meat is by now, I’d suggest you go see a doctor.”
I grab the underside of her chair and drag it closer to me. The wooden legs screech across the stone floor, and neighboring tables turn to us.
I lean my arm on the back of her chair, and as my lips brush the shell of her ear, I place my right hand on her knee, lifting the fabric of her dress a few inches so I can squeeze her smooth skin.
“I can assure you, no doctor visits are necessary, Olivia. ”
“Austin!” she hisses, pulling the fabric down and over my hand so no one can see.
I lean down to take a bite of her burger before she has a chance to stop me. “Yeah, that’s fucking chicken,” I say, licking my lips.
The old lady at the table nearby tuts before focusing back on her dinner. Her sour expression suggests she, too, was mistakenly given the eggplant salad.
“You’ve got no manners,” she whispers as I lean back in my chair.
“I don’t think you want a man with manners, Olivia.”
“Oh, is this where you tell me what I do want instead, and it just happens to be all of your qualities?”
“You want a man who takes what he wants. Because that’s what you do. You’re a woman of action, and you want to see that reflected in your partner...whoever you choose,” I add with a wink.
“I’m still not convinced by this.” She circles her finger in the air from my head to my chest and back again.
Oh, a challenge. What a chore that must be for some people. “I told you I’m patient, Killer. Are you nearly done? We have a quick stop on the way home.”
Yeah, I said home. That little basement is my new registered address.
“How was your chicken, sir?” the waiter emerges from the shadows like a fucking jack-in-the-box. Olivia loses it, and starts laughing embarrassingly loud.
“Apologies, George. Miss Daniels here had an edible before we arrived, so she’s a little out of sorts right now.”
This only causes Olivia to laugh harder. She clutches her stomach, and I worry she might choke on her burger.
“Oh, don’t worry. I took an edible the other day and stared at a lamppost for three hours. Best afternoon I’ve had in weeks. I’m just glad she’s enjoying herself,” the young waiter whispers after glancing around to check no one could overhear .
I take the opportunity to swipe another bite of her chicken burger and without having to lie, I tell George the food was delicious and settle the bill.
“Sir, this is coming from my manager. He’s asked me that if you’re to return, you’ll need to be a little more conscious of the other guests. Otherwise, we can reserve a private room for you.”
“Of course, not a problem.” We won’t be returning.
Olivia is breathless and trying to regain her composure but ends up yelling, “How was the chicken?” at the top of her lungs before falling into fits of giggles again.
“However, if you have the name of the person who sold the edibles, I’d love to get their details,” he whispers.
“Next time, George.” I slap a one hundred dollar bill into his hand. “I’d better get her home.”
My arms are snaked around her slim waist, and I end up hauling her out of the restaurant and to the car.
“That was the best meal I’ve ever had.” She grins as I open her door.
“Me too.” And it really was.
We stop for ice cream. Olivia orders strawberry, and I take chocolate fudge. We swap halfway through until the last bite, and we swap back so she can have strawberries as the final taste in her mouth.
It feels strange to indulge her with this.
I haven’t had such a fun dinner in years.
I felt young again, as if life is meant to be more than what I’ve been doing.
Olivia doesn’t have an easy life; she works hard, unbelievably hard.
But she enjoys the little things and doesn’t take herself too seriously.