The Enemy Inside (The Captive Series Book 1)

by Penelope Marshall

“I really don’t want you to leave just yet, I feel safer with you here,” I admitted.

  “Why didn’t you just say so?” he asked as he put down his toolbox.

  “Really? You’ll stay?”

  “It’s sort of my job to protect you.”

  “Please, have a seat,” I said, motioning to the couch. I plopped down on the couch next to him. “Well, now I have you here, I honestly don’t know what to do. Tell me a little about your past.”

  He leaned back on the couch and clasped his hands behind his head and jokingly started to recount the last few days. “Well, I went to get my truck washed yesterday, and then—”

  I interrupted him. “No, silly.” I chuckled as I pushed on his thigh.

  He looked down at my hand, and then at me as I quickly yanked my hand back and rested it on my lap.

  Looking down at my twiddling thumbs, I continued, “I meant tell me things like—why you decided to join the military.”

  “I joined up because—well, that’s a long story, but when I joined I met a couple of guys who really took me under their wing and mentored me. I didn’t know which career field I wanted to follow and they helped me decide I wanted to put in for BUD/s training to become a SEAL.”

  “I’ve heard SEAL training is really tough, though.”

  “Why do you say it like that?” He chuckled. “Don’t I look like I could handle myself?”

  “Of course, you definitely look like you could handle yourself, and maybe someone else,” I whispered.

  “Are you’re flirting with me?”

  “Flirt? I would never. That would be so unladylike, and my mother would throw a fit.” I chuckled.

  “Well, if that’s not flirting, I would love to see what is, one day.”

  Wanting to change the subject, I said, “So, I know I just got mad at you for this but, I heard about your mother. I’m so sorry.”

  “No. Don’t worry about it, and thank you. She was an amazing woman and fought hard at the end. I knew my father was going to need help, and family comes first. Once everything settles down, I’ll head back to Syria,” he explained.

  “So you won’t be staying?” I asked, disappointed.

  “As of right now, I don’t really have much to stay for.”

  “That could change,” I whispered.

  “It certainly could.” He winked.

  “By the way, my cousin just texted, and she’ll be dropping by. She should be here anytime, so don’t shoot her when she gets here.”

  He chuckled. “Hey, why don’t I make us all lunch?”

  “Really?”

  “Then we can go in your amazing backyard and have a picnic.” He motioned outside.

  “No! I can’t.” I jumped from the couch and backed away from him.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that you didn’t even go into your yard. I just thought you didn’t go into town. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

  I looked at his face, so earnest in his apology, but the fear of the outside world was back, and I just wanted to be alone again. “Maybe we should call it a day,” I said, looking toward the door.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, inching toward me.

  I backed away, crossing my arms. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He walked over to his tools and picked them up. “You have my number; call me if you need anything. I’ll be close by. I’ll walk the perimeter once, and then I’ll leave,” he said as he made his way to the door.

  Not wanting to make eye contact with him, I shifted my gaze to the ground, but looked up when I heard the door open and shut, his shadow slowly receding on the other side of the frosted glass.

  Why do I do this to myself? Why can’t I just go outside and live life like I’m supposed to?

  Walking over to the window to watch him leave, I found myself pondering the same questions I had been asking myself for the last two years. He loaded up his toolbox in the back of his truck and started walking around the house. I noticed he was paying particular attention to Mrs. Harvish’s living room window, which had the curtain drawn.

  Funny, in all the years I had been watching her have high tea, she never once had that curtain drawn.

  Zander disappeared around the corner of the house.

  The Trunk

  What in the hell is taking Maria so long?

  Compared to the lively events of the morning, the rest of the day seemed pretty empty as I waited. It had been so long since I had that much human interaction, and the kind of interaction it had been was definitely surprising. To have Ty ask me out on a date was shocking on its own, but then to have an amazingly hot guy like Zander walk into my life was one for the books.

  Usually, nothing but loneliness filled my days. Well, there were my neighbors, but that wasn’t real. I don’t think I realized how lonely I was until today.

  Drifting from room to room, I found my usual habits to be drab and unfulfilling. Passing by the library, I decided to lounge on my favorite crushed red velvet tufted chaise with my favorite book. After about the third page, the words started to jumble together to the point where muscle memory took over and I just started to flip through pages, finding it hard to concentrate on the story with my mind drifting off to Ty and our impending date on Thursday.

  What should I wear? Would he expect me to have sex with him the first night like all the other women he brought home from God knows where?

  The thought of having sex with Ty had always intrigued me. I mean, I’d seen him in action, and he performed well, but now that Zander had caught my eye, I sort of felt like I was cheating on him with Ty.

  I don’t owe Zander anything, so why do I feel so guilty about keeping my date with Ty?

  My mind then drifted off to the morning I spent with Zander and how safe I felt in his arms.

  Could he be someone I would feel safe enough with to actually walk through the front door and step out into the world? Maybe not after the way I childishly kicked him out this morning. My mind started pulling out memories of my life outside the mansion walls, long since filed away. Shopping at the mall to find the latest and greatest fashion craze. An off the cuff lunch or coffee with my girlfriends, and feeling the wind whip through my long black hair whenever I drove my convertible over the speed limit with the top down. Realizing how many risks I had taken before my parents died, I shook my head at how reckless I had been, knowing only God could have saved me from so many edge of the cliff experiences.

  But why would God not save my parents? The same people who never took risks?

  It was a question that baffled me for years, and for quite some time I hated Him for taking them away from me, blaming Him almost on a daily basis, using words that one should never utter in His presence.

  I was still waist-deep in my own thoughts when, through the cracked window, I heard a few women cackling as they walked past the sidewalk in front of my house. I shot up and hurried to the window. It was Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. Fleming on their usual afternoon speed walk up and down the street. They were older ladies, but worked out so often they had the bodies of women half their age. Speed walking past the house, they ran into Ty, who was standing in his driveway putting something into his trunk. Quickly, he shut the trunk and spun around with a smile plastered on his face to greet the ladies.

  The three chatted back and forth for a few minutes; the older women were obviously being charmed by the handsomely famous quarterback. Mrs. Anderson giggled as she stroked Ty’s throwing arm and squeezed the muscle in between her fingers. Ty smiled at her and shifted her hand from his arm to his lips, giving her a long kiss on the back of her hand. The two women couldn’t contain themselves and continued to giggle incessantly.

  I chuckled to myself as I watched the whole scene unfold from upstairs, but I suppose that their reaction wasn’t too far off from how I had awkwardly interacted with him earlier in the day. As they walked away, he turned back to open his trunk and started to fumble with something heavy, judging by the way his muscles strained through his shirt as he jostled
it around in the trunk. The flash of a gold bracelet glistening in the sun caught my eye, but since I didn’t have my binoculars and it would take me too long to run downstairs to grab them, I tried to focus in by squinting. The bracelet was set around something thin and milky white, but before I could investigate any further, Ty quickly pushed the object back into the trunk and away from my view as he looked around the mostly abandoned street.

  Slamming the trunk shut, he hurried into the driver’s seat and backed out of his driveway, speeding off down the street. He shot a casual wave out the driver side window as he passed the two women, still engaged in their afternoon exercise routine. They waved back and whispered amongst themselves as he disappeared around the corner in his bright red sports car.

  “What in the hell was that?” I asked myself as I threw my book on the chaise and ran downstairs to the kitchen to hop on my laptop.

  I clicked the mouse several times, but the computer took its sweet time to log on to the internet.

  Has it always taken this long?

  “Geez! C’mon!” I hollered at the screen as I clicked on the mouse a few more times. “Finally!” I yelled as the search screen populated. I typed in: missing women Winslow Park.

  The screen went hazy as the computer searched for my query. The screen populated with the words: NO SEARCH RESULTS FOUND

  “Hmm,” I wondered out loud. “No results.”

  I backed out and went back to the search engine broadening my search to: Winslow Park crime.

  The screen went hazy again as the computer searched for possible matches. The screen cleared up when the search results populated with row after row of articles about my parents’ murder. Mortified, I slammed my laptop shut and lowered my head.

  I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “Shit, why did I just do that?”

  Now my parents’ murder was at the forefront of my thoughts. Walking away from the computer, I headed toward the dining room window, picking up my binoculars on the way.

  I tried to think back to what I actually saw. All I could really make out was a bracelet clasped around something—what, I wasn’t exactly sure. Slapping the binoculars against my palm, I paced back and forth in the dining room next to the massive dining table, periodically looking toward the window to see if Ty had returned.

  An hour passed and still no Ty, so I decided to give up my stake out and make something to eat. Heading toward the kitchen, I set the binoculars down on the table, almost knocking it over when I heard my cell phone ring.

  Already tense, my heart dropped into my stomach at the blaring noise it made. The sound was echoing from the living room, and as I approached the coffee table, I could hear it was coming from the direction of the couch. Suddenly, the ringing stopped.

  “Hell!” I cursed as I searched through the cushions until I finally felt something hard against the soft material. Pulling it from in between the cushions, I clicked on my missed call notification, which at this point numbered in the hundreds, since I rarely took any calls. The latest number was one I had recently seen. I grabbed the small piece of paper along with the card off of the side table and compared them to the number on the phone. It matched the number Zander had given me before he left.

  The voicemail notification went off and now I had to try and remember what my access code was. After a few attempts, I finally got in and pressed the option to listen to the newest voicemail. There was no way I was going to listen to hundreds just to get to Zander’s.

  After pressing play, I heard: Hey Kenzi, I just wanted to say I was really sorry for whatever happened today. I didn’t mean to push you into going outside. I enjoyed spending time with you. Hopefully, I can see you before my next shift. Gimmie a call back. Bye.

  I erased the message and plopped down on the couch. Before I could hang the phone up, my mother’s voice carried through, startling me. My messages had cycled over and had begun playing; it was a message that, to this day, I didn’t have the heart to erase. I pressed number four, which was the option to make the message replay from the beginning, then held the phone up to my ear.

  Hey honey, don’t forget to pick up some apples and brown sugar from the store on your way home. I’m making your dad’s favorite dessert for dinner. Love ya.

  Heat flashed across my face as I listened to her rattle off the ingredients to the last dessert she ever made for my father. Without erasing the message, I hung up the phone, as erasing it would mean I would never hear the sound of my mother’s voice again. It was a commitment I wasn’t willing to make just yet.

  I blew a tendril of hair out of my face, plopped my elbows on my knees, and rested my chin on my palms. My mind replayed the message that Zander had left.

  What to do, what to do? Do I really wanna give this a go?

  I knew now he was trying to be sweet by offering a picnic outside. My extreme phobia was the thing I should be mad at. Not him. Giving Zander a chance would mean I would eventually have to leave the house. I glanced around at the walls that had become my security blanket for the last two years which, truthfully, others might call my prison—even I had called it my prison many times.

  There was no way someone would continue to see me if I never left, no matter how much he said it wouldn’t bother him in the beginning. But I was torn; this house kept out the evil the world had to offer.

  The thought of the word evil trailed my thoughts to Ty and the bracelet in his trunk. Looking out the window toward his driveway one more time, I noticed he still hadn’t come home. I shrugged the thoughts away, then realized Maria still hadn’t shown up.

  Where the hell is she?

  I turned back to the couch and texted her.

  Kenzi: Hey, where are you?

  A few moments later I got a response.

  Maria: Sorry, there was an emergency.

  Kenzi: What?! After all that you turned around and went home and didn’t bother to call?

  Maria: Sorry, Kenzi.

  “Kenzi?” I muttered to myself.

  That’s weird; I don’t think I’ve ever heard her call me Kenzi.

  Kenzi: What was the emergency, anyway?

  A few minutes passed without a reply.

  Rude ass!

  I scrolled back to Zander’s number, contemplating whether I should call him or not. I rationalized it wasn’t his fault I couldn’t get past my own phobias. The least I could do was apologize again. I don’t think I have ever had to apologize to anyone so many times in the same day.

  I listened to the phone ring as I sat back down on the couch waiting for him to answer.

  “Hey there, beautiful!” he answered with an amazing amount of exuberance.

  “Uh—hi—handsome,” I replied, trying to return the compliment. “I just wanted to say—”

  “No need. I shouldn’t have tried to push you outside,” he conceded.

  “You weren’t trying to push me. You simply offered, and I went—well—crazy!” I admitted.

  He laughed, and said, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I left.”

  “Really?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I want to see you. Preferably without a toolbox or gun in hand,” he replied jokingly.

  “I would really love that too.”

  “Has your cousin shown up?”

  “No, no. She actually cancelled, so I’m free,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  “I can’t wait!” I said with way too much excitement.

  My mother would have loved to tell me how a lady needs to play coy and let the man chase her, but I couldn’t help it. He was so sexy, and I loved the way he made me feel. After hanging up the phone, I sprinted upstairs to shower and find a new outfit. As I made it past the library, I heard Ty’s car rev into his driveway, which momentarily froze me dead in my tracks.

  “He’s home.”

  I willed my feet to walk through the library toward the window that had the perfect view of his driveway. The driver door op
ened, and this usually perfectly poised, well-dressed man was wearing a wife beater and jeans, completely covered head to toe in dirt. The dirt-covered white tank had the added feature of sweat stains descending the front and back. Almost as if he could feel me watching, he looked up at the window I was standing at. He winked at me as he made his way toward his trunk.

  Frightened, I jumped behind the wall, hoping against all hopes he hadn’t seen me. My heart was pumping a mile a minute as the sweat started to bead off of my forehead. A few seconds passed before I peeked through the curtains to see him walking through his garage door, dragging a dirt-covered shovel behind him. My palms and forehead rested against the window as I contemplated the scene, adding up all the happenings of the day.

  Everything in my mind screamed murderer.

  A woman’s arm and bracelet in the trunk going out, and a dirty shovel in its place coming in, could only mean one thing—right?

  But there was no way this upstanding, well dressed, well-loved football star would participate in such a vulgar action.

  Or would he?

  I hid behind the wall again when he walked back out of his garage. I was so scared and confused.

  Suddenly, I was startled by the vibration in my hand.

  I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me. I’m gonna walk around your house. I’ll be in shortly,” Zander said over the phone.

  “Okay, I’m gonna jump in the shower,” I said as I looked back toward the window, biting my bottom lip, wondering if my mind was putting together something that was actually plausible.

  I shook it off and headed to my bedroom.

  Two Suitors

  “Ty. A killer,” I said as I undressed, leaving a heaping pile of clothes in the middle of the bathroom floor.

  Stepping through the glass door of my black marble shower spa, I flipped on the water and waited as it heated up. The steam that it created filled the bathroom with a misty haze that hugged me in its warmth. Hoping the steaming hot water would wash away the events of the afternoon and leave me refreshed for my meeting with Zander, I stood still with my arms crossed, letting it cascade over my stress-wrought body.