Read Captives for Free Online Page B

duty?'
        He nodded.
        'Do you want a drink?' Scott asked.
        'I should go and get changed, I…'
        'A quick one,' he insisted, smiling.
        She agreed and he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of Southern Comfort and two glasses. She watched as he poured.
        'Don't you ever get sick of this job, Jim?' she wanted to know.
        Scott handed her the drink, looking bemused.
        'It's a living,' he told her.
        'I hate it,' she said, venomously. 'I hate what I do. I hate the people who come in here to watch me.' She took a long swallow of the drink and closed her eyes.
        'Are you all right?'
        'I'm okay. I'm just pissed off. Everyone has the right to be pissed off with their job don't they? It just surprises me you don't get pissed off with yours.'
        'Like I said, it's a living. I don't hate it.'
        It sounded like an apology. As if he should hate it and himself for doing it.
        'You never used to be like this about it,' Scott said.
        'I didn't think it would go on as long as this,' she snapped. 'I've been working clip joints since I was nineteen. That's nearly ten years, Jim. It's a long time. I wanted more out of life. I want more. More than being stared at by men with nowhere else to go. Fucking perverts. You know some of the ones we get in here. I hate them. And I'm beginning to hate myself for performing for them.' She took another long swallow and gazed across the room at the wall.
        Scott got to his feet and moved closer to her, putting his arm around her, pulling her close.
        'Do you want to talk about it later?' he asked, kissing the top of her head.
        'What good is talking going to do?'
        'I didn't know you felt the way you did. Perhaps if you spoke to me about it…'
        'You don't understand,' she interrupted.
        'Make me understand,' Scott asked.
        She drained what was left in her glass and handed him the empty receptacle.
        'Can I see you after work?' he asked.
        She shrugged.
        'Walk out and watch the show,' she said bitterly. 'You can see as much of me as you want.'
        'You know what I mean,' Scott said, irritably.
         Why do you make it so hard for me?
        'Can I see you later?'
        She kissed his cheek and turned to pull away but he caught her by the wrist and pulled her close to him. This time she responded with a little more passion, actually allowing his tongue to probe past the hard white edges of her teeth and into the moistness beyond. She touched his cheek as they parted in a gesture that was almost maternal. It wasn't the touch of a lover. He held on to her other hand, to the hand that bore the onyx ring.
        The metal was turning black in places.
        They were still holding hands when the office door opened.
        'Can't you fucking knock?' Scott called.
        The newcomer stuck his head around the door and looked first at Scott, then at Carol.
        'Very cosy,' he said, noticing that they were holding hands. 'Sorry if I'm disturbing you.' He entered.
        Scott swallowed hard as the door was pushed shut.
        

TEN
        
        In all the years he had worked for Ray Plummer, Scott had never been sure whether or not to believe the rumours that his boss wore a wig. If it was a hairpiece, whoever had made it was to be complimented. There was even a patch of thinning hair at the crown to add authenticity.
        Now, as the older man entered the room, pulling a cigarette from the gold monogrammed case he'd removed from his pocket, Scott glanced quickly at the lustrous black hair that covered Plummer's head.
        Toupee or not toupee, that was the question.
        Scott smiled a greeting, hoping it would mask his amusement at his quip.
        Watch it.
        Carol stepped away from him slightly and also smiled at Plummer, who walked across the room and