The Sensible One (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Thirty Six

Having been strong-armed the entire way inside the dining room of the absolutely massive mansion we were settled outside I was beginning to realise that whoever Griffith was, he was someone powerful. Strange how the manifestation of money was more compelling to me than  being kidnapped.

As we were roughly forced into the room, a room that looked like like a modernised abbey living room with a show kitchenette, marble countertops and a matching table. There were some chandeliers dripping droplet style... glass, I imagined, from the ceiling in three places. Beautiful, but a certainly impractical. I wondered how often such things needed to be dusted.

"I see you're admiring our Venetian crystal chandeliers..." Came the booming voice from the entrance as Griffith stalked inside, his eyes on me.

I didn't say anything.

Lowell inched in front of me, the look he was giving was making everyone nervous, it was dark, and it seemed to resonate it too, put us on edge even given that his wrists and ankles were still in shackles, dragging the thin silver chains behind him. He hadn't broken the chains, apparently they were strong enough that ripping them out of the bed of the truck was easier than snapping it in two.

"What're you mute?" He walked further opposite us so I was plainly in view.

I nudged Lowell, I was too hot to say much and the more he postured over me the stranger our relationship would appear to the probably psychopath that was currently stalking in front of us.

Lowell's father did look like him, the hairline, the jaw, the intense eye that looked like they intended on boiling you alive at the slightest grievance, but comparatively his father had lighter skin and a very different figure. Lowell was tall and muscular, and so was Griffith, but his muscles were the sort that were designed to either impress or frighten, a prominent vein in his neck running up his jaw, with a little fat around his middle that men his age generally had.

As said, Lowell was darker than his father, with a flatter, wider nose and lips, brighter whites in his eyes, muscle that managed to look relatively harmless by comparison but was evidently strong enough to worry even his father.

The muscles under the black half turtleneck straining around his chest appeared to curve gently, and maybe that was why I desperately wanted to lean in, slip my arms around him and feel his around me. The feeling so strong that I inhaled slowly and moved an inch away, Lowell's eyes flashing in my direction as I did.

"With all due respect sir, why am I here?" I asked the man.

He laughed, seeming a little surprised. "My son was reckless around you, he turned into a wolf. And you can't possibly think why we might have security concerns?"

"He won't say anything..." Lowell gritted his teeth.

His father laughed. "You're so confident." Then his gaze turned colder. "And that's pretty worrying isn't it?"

Lowell glanced at me, my face was still burning, my skin prickly, at this point they probably hadn't seen the normal colour of my complexion so it might not have struck them as strange.

"He's a friend of mine. You know this, clearly, since you neither handcuffed him nor took his phone away from him."

My brain blanked, I looked up at him slowly but Lowell was too busy battling for most frightening glare award with his father over the massive slab of marble between us.

I had my phone with me.

I used it so little that it simply didn't occur to me to call for help with it, my brain fuzzy with this strange heat.