Captivating

by Onley James

  Elijah snorted. “Of course, she fucking did. God, she’s relentless.”

  Robby flushed. “You know Lucifer. Um, can I come in? These are really heavy.”

  “Why did you bring me flowers? Are those somehow part of Lucifer’s master plan? Cause I don’t get it?”

  Elijah stepped back to let Robby in but collided with Shep, who glared at Robby like he’d wronged Shep’s family or something. Robby took a hesitant half step back at Shep’s mutinous expression and thrust the flowers in Shep’s direction. “The security agent said somebody dropped them off late last night, and that they were all clear. Whatever that means.”

  Shep took the flowers and walked towards the kitchen. Elijah followed with Robby trailing behind. Shep set the vase on the counter and examined each flower like an explosive device might lie within. He even opened the small envelope with the card in it. He made a weird grunt that could have meant almost anything then set the card back down.

  Elijah drifted closer, snagging the small square of paper. It was a heavy and smooth expensive linen stationery. Probably from one of the studio execs, though lavender roses and white calla lilies seemed an odd choice, and it triggered a chill that shivered along his spine. He leaned against the sink and flipped the card over, eyes roaming the aggressive block letters.

  THE CAMERA LOVES YOU

  Elijah’s stomach lurched. He turned, hovering over the sink as he lost the meager contents of his stomach. His heart hammered in his ears, his entire body breaking into a sweat even as he shivered. No. No. No. No. No.

  His vision swam as he heaved into the sink. He fumbled for the faucet, turning the water on and letting the cool water wash over his face, ignoring the voices swimming around him, speaking words that didn’t translate, their hands pawing at him, touching him everywhere.

  He jerked away from them, shoving the flowers off the counter, getting no satisfaction as the vase shattered on to the wood floor, sending water and glass everywhere. Robby stood gaping at the mess, but Shep was already moving towards him. Elijah held his hands out. “Don’t. Just… just don’t. I’m fine. It’s nothing. I’m fine. I just haven’t been feeling well. I need… I need to lie down, I think. I’ll be okay in a minute. I will. I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t even know who he was trying to convince, but it was Shep who watched him, brows knitted together, a scowl marring his perfect face. It was only Shep who mattered. Robby looked gutted, equal parts scared and concerned. But it was Shep’s opinion that had tears swimming in Elijah’s eyes. He looked weak. He looked sick and crazy. Wasn’t he, though? He hadn’t thought so.

  He escaped to his room, throwing himself on the bed, pulling a pillow over his face to muffle the sob that escaped. This was because he’d turned down that meeting. It had to be. There was no way he could refuse the great Leonard Medford and then have those words—words that had haunted his nightmares—arrive on his doorstep the next day. Fucking Lucifer. She’d somehow summoned that man from the pits of hell and now a ghost from Elijah’s past had hitched a ride.

  He should never have come back to Los Angeles.

  Shep stared at Elijah’s sleeping form, curled up against the far window of the limo, his breath fogging up the glass in small bursts. The boy hadn’t been the same since those flowers arrived. Elijah had eventually emerged from his room, looking more than disappointed to see Robby still there, but they’d gone ahead with Lucifer’s plan.

  Shep had spent hours watching Elijah pretend to be in love with Robby, handholding, smiling, taking pics of each other. Maybe to most of the world, their adoration seemed real, but Shep had no problem seeing Elijah’s heart wasn’t in it. It was the first time Shep would call the boy’s performance… lackluster. It could be Elijah’s rough morning affecting him, but Shep suspected it wasn’t the whole story. It would help if he knew what about that card had set Elijah off. It seemed like such an innocuous and unoriginal thing to write on a card, but it had caused a visceral reaction in Elijah.

  While the boy had slept, Shep had tried to run down the sender, but security said the flowers were dropped off late last night via courier, but the surveillance video proved unhelpful. The courier appeared to be no older than Elijah and had walked up to the security booth on foot in plain clothes. The license he provided stated his name as Todd Aikens. He sent the name and a picture of the ID to the office and asked them to run the kid down to see what information he could provide, but it only led to a dead end. The kid wasn’t a professional. He had just taken the job for some quick cash after a middle-aged balding man asked him to deliver the flowers to the address on a piece of paper. He’d since thrown the paper away.

  At the restaurant, Shep had taken up residence at a table in the corner, keeping the boys in his sights. Afterward, he’d trailed them around the city for hours, keeping enough distance to not ruin the illusion, but still close enough to intervene.

  After hours of watching Robby and Elijah interact with paparazzi, fans, and each other one thing was clear to Shep: Elijah was acting, but Robby… Robby was in love. Had Elijah shown even the slightest glimmer of true interest in the younger, delicate boy, perhaps Shep would have viewed him as a threat, but Elijah’s disinterest kept Robby off Shep’s radar.

  Observing Elijah as the rest of the world did was educational. In public, everything about him changed. He took long strides, walked with shoulders rounded, heavy-footed, nothing like the way he walked around the house, hips swaying, hands and fingers just so. Out in the world, there was nothing of the fussy boy Shep saw while at home and it made something trip in his chest to know that Elijah at least trusted him enough for that. But not enough to confide just who had upset him that morning.

  Shep gently roused Elijah as the car came to a stop outside their door. The sun had only just disappeared from the sky, replaced by a full moon, but Elijah shuffled to the door like a zombie, leaning against the wall as he waited for Shep to enter the code to deactivate the system and allow entry into the house.

  “Hey, Shep?” Elijah mumbled.

  Shep pushed the door open. “Yeah, rabbit?”

  The boy brushed against him to enter. “Did you give Lucifer the new door codes? Is that how she got in this morning?”

  Shep followed behind him. “She’s on the list, yes.”

  Elijah pivoted, almost running into Shep’s chest. He gazed up at him with those big blue eyes. “Could you make her not on the list?”

  I could make her disappear entirely if it pleases you. “I could change the codes. Would that make you happy?”

  The question seemed to confuse Elijah. “Happy?” he asked, like it was an entirely foreign word. “No, but I might sleep for a change.”

  Shep frowned. “She keeps you from sleeping?”

  Elijah’s brows crinkled, a small smile playing on his face. “No. She doesn’t physically bar me from sleep. But knowing she can barge in here whenever she likes gives me anxiety.”

  “And that keeps you from sleeping?” Shep asked, curious.

  Elijah snorted a laugh. “You’re really weird. Sometimes you seem so normal and then other times you’re like a Terminator.”

  A small smile played at Shep’s lips. His brother had once made the same joke after they’d snuck into the movie as children. “You think I’m a cyborg?”

  Elijah shrugged. “I mean, yeah. Kinda. No offense.”

  Shep grinned. “None taken.”

  Elijah had such good instincts. He would have made a great spy. He was excellent at reading people, anticipating what they wanted and adjusting accordingly. Shep had expected the boy would try to read him too, and he was right. Elijah was starting to see that Shep wore a mask too, that he was taking it off around him. Would Elijah continue to do the same? Let Shep see the real him?

  Elijah didn’t head straight for his bedroom as Shep thought he would. Instead, he lingered, gazing up at Shep with wide eyes, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. He was hesitating. He didn’t want to leave Shep. Another unfa
miliar sensation bloomed in Shep’s chest, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  “So why don’t you sleep? If it’s not because of your scary manager?” Shep asked, struck by an urge to run the rough pad of his thumb over the boy’s slick lower lip, to feel his skin beneath his finger. This want was so foreign to him, but he wouldn’t dismiss it. He forced himself to keep his hands where they were. “Are you worried about the threats?”

  The boy paled. “Threats?”

  “The death threats, online. The reason the studio hired me to watch over you.”

  Elijah’s shoulders sagged, and he waved his hand. “Oh. No, not really. They sorta come with the territory nowadays, I guess.” His expression grew apprehensive, his shoulders hunching. “I just don’t sleep well. It’s hard to shut my brain off and even when I do, I have nightmares.”

  Interesting. “About what?”

  Elijah’s gaze skirted away from him. “I don’t remember.”

  Lie. His rabbit was lying. But why? What demons chased this boy down in the middle of the night? Were they tied to the card in the kitchen that had sent him spiraling into a full-blown panic attack? Elijah was barely old enough to drink. How could anybody so young look so… haunted?

  “Shep?”

  Shep pulled himself from his thoughts. “Yeah, rabbit?” he said again.

  “The cameras I saw on your laptop this morning… are they in every room?”

  Shep frowned. Elijah was definitely afraid of something. Or someone. “The cameras are always recording. Every access point is secure. Nobody can get to you without going through me.”

  Elijah pushed an errant strand of hair from his eyes. “You can see me then… in any room in the house?”

  “There are no cameras in the bathrooms.”

  He seemed to dismiss Shep’s statement, laser-focused on… something. “But there is one... in my bedroom.”

  “Yes.”

  “One you could access anytime you wanted?”

  The boy’s voice sounded breathless, his pupils dilated, tongue darting out once more. The pieces began to drop into place. Elijah wanted Shep watching. This boy, his little rabbit, was signaling loud and clear and Shep’s body responded accordingly, his cock hardening in his jeans almost as if Elijah had willed it to happen. He almost laughed out loud. It was like his body was dialed into Elijah’s frequency, to only Elijah’s frequency. He was a gift.

  “Shep?”

  Elijah had asked him a question. “Yes. I have access to every camera, anytime I like. Does that bother you?”

  Elijah didn’t answer, just shook his head no, swallowing hard.

  Shep took a step closer, but not close enough to touch. “Do you like knowing I can watch you anytime I want?”

  Elijah stared at him, swaying closer almost like Shep’s voice had hypnotized him. “Yes.”

  Elijah was so responsive, so needy, yet so closed off at the same time. How long would it take to peel back the layers? Shep didn’t know, but he wouldn’t rush it. He’d let Elijah set the pace.

  “You should try to get some rest,” he said.

  Elijah blinked, Shep’s words breaking whatever spell had enthralled him. The boy’s whole demeanor changed, shoulders slumping as he turned and walked away. Had Shep made the wrong call? He wasn’t sure, but after the morning the boy had, trying to get closer to Elijah physically seemed unwise. At the thought of Elijah’s manager, Shep couldn’t stop himself from calling out. “Hey, rabbit. Can I ask you a question?”

  Elijah stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. “Sure.”

  Shep had to know. “Why don’t you just fire her?”

  Elijah frowned. “Who? Lucifer?”

  “Yeah.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “I can’t fire her. She’s my mother.”

  By the time Shep processed that information, the boy was long gone, disappearing down the hall towards his room. How had that information escaped him? Why hadn’t Linc mentioned that in the briefing? Maybe he needed to make sure Elite had already vetted all of Elijah’s team. He made a mental note to talk to Linc about it in the morning and started a sweep of the house before changing the codes on the doors, as promised, and sending them to Linc in an encrypted email, per protocol.

  Once he entered his bedroom, he used his phone to dial up the security feeds, pulling up Elijah’s room and propping it up on the soap dispenser while he went about his nightly routine of brushing and flossing. The boy wasn’t in bed, but he could see shadows playing over the floor indicating he was in the bathroom, likely doing the same things Shep did now. After a few minutes, the boy emerged, wrapped in a towel, damp hair pushed away from his face. Shep continued his routine, watching Elijah do the same.

  It wasn’t until Elijah paused, gazing into the camera that Shep paused too. He just stood there, staring into the camera like he knew Shep was watching. Did Elijah know? Was this little show all for him? He stood, toothbrush in hand, watching as Elijah unknotted the towel and dropped it, letting it pool at his feet. Shep studied him, giving Elijah’s naked form the reverence it deserved. The boy was long and lean, each muscle sculpted to perfection. He was a work of art and it seemed only fair Shep take the time to admire his form.

  Shep finished brushing and flossing, watching as Elijah turned from the camera, bending to pick up the towel as if he wanted Shep to observe every part of him. So he did. The boy had long shapely legs and a firm plump bottom. Shep’s cock throbbed as Elijah took his time crawling onto the bed and climbing beneath the covers. He gave one final long look at the camera then turned on his side away from the lens. Shep discontinued the feed.

  He stored his gun in the top drawer by his bed just like the night before, plugging his phone into the wall and extinguishing the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. He had barely closed his eyes when his phone vibrated, signaling a call.

  Elijah’s name blinked on the screen.

  “What’s wrong?” Shep asked, by way of greeting, suddenly on high alert.

  “What’s your last name?” Elijah asked, his voice a step above a whisper.

  Shep frowned into the darkness but didn’t hesitate to answer. “Shepherd.”

  There was a long pause. “Your parents named you Shepherd Shepherd. Wow. No offense, but your parents sound like dicks. Did they not want kids or something?”

  He smiled at the boy’s candor. “My parents named me Jayne Michael Shepherd.”

  “Jayne’s a girl’s name,” Elijah stated as if this knowledge may have escaped him after all these years.

  “Yes, several kids were happy to let me know during my schoolyard days. Usually while beating the shit out of me,” he said with a light chuckle.

  Elijah sounded dubious. “It’s hard to imagine anybody trying to beat you up. You’re so big.”

  “Now. But my brother and I were scrawny, and nerdy, and kind of ugly growing up.”

  Elijah giggled. “Well, you showed them.”

  Shep had shown them, but not by growing up attractive. In sixth grade, the bullying had died for good along with any hope his family had of Shep growing up normal. In all fairness, the other child had started it. He just hadn’t expected to find Shep and Mac so eager to finish it. Two against one wasn’t a fair fight, but the boy was three years older than them. Shep wasn’t sure what had bothered his parents more, his lack of remorse, or that he’d dragged Mac—their good son—down into the gutter with him. The bully recovered eventually, but Shep’s parents never quite looked at him the same after that.

  “Was that the only reason you were calling?” Shep asked, closing the book on that chapter of his childhood.

  “I hate calling you Shep.”

  Shep grinned. The boy spent so much time guarding himself, wore so many masks, but there he was, just blurting out the truth with no regard for Shep’s feelings. Maybe it was easier for him in the dark. “Alright. What do you want to call me?”

  There was a long pause, the only noise the sound of Elijah’s breathing and the slight rustli
ng of his covers each time he moved. “Can I call you Jayne?”

  “If you like.”

  Another pause. “Could I call you Jaynie?” he asked, hesitant like his rejection was imminent.

  It seemed such a little thing to cause anxiety. People puzzled him. He really didn’t care what Elijah called him. “You can call me anything you like, rabbit. I’ll always answer.”

  “You’re really weird,” Elijah said, but there was a lightness to his words.

  Once again, that unfamiliar feeling bloomed in Shep’s chest. Elijah did that. He put that lightness there. “Yes. I got that from our conversation earlier. I’m a cyborg.”

  “Yeah, you’re definitely part robot... but you’re much hotter than Schwarzenegger.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  There was a sudden inhale and then the sound of a muffled yawn. “I’m tired. I think I can go to sleep now. Night, Jayne.”

  He liked the way his given name sounded on the boy’s lips. “Good night, Elijah.”

  As soon as they disconnected, Shep rolled to his side and pulled up the cameras once more. Elijah was little more than a lump under the covers. Shep zoomed in on the boy’s face in the shadows, grateful for the night mode. He was curled on his side, one hand under his head and the other somewhere beneath the covers, but Shep only cared about the peaceful look on the boy’s face and the small smile playing at his lips.

  Shep propped his phone against the lamp, Elijah’s feed running as he drifted to sleep. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, a single word popped into his head, making a home there. Mine. Elijah was his, he just was, and Shep would behave accordingly.

  Elijah emerged from his bedroom just after dawn in jeans, a black Chanel sweatshirt, and a gray beanie. Shep was already in the kitchen in his usual uniform of faded denim and a vintage band t-shirt. Shep was so old he might have purchased them new, years ago. The thought amused Elijah.