Free Captivation by Nicola Moriarty Page A

shape was taking form. She held still, only allowing her peripheral vision to take in what was happening– afraid if she focused on it completely she risked making the shape vanish.
    The more she waited, the stronger the figure became – until she started to make out a more definite form: broad shoulders, square jaw, the left ear that stuck out just slightly more than the right. Short, curling hair, a crooked, cheeky smile. Finally, unable to stand the suspense anymore, she swung around and squealed with delight.
    ‘Danny! I can see you!’
    ‘What?’ And when he responded, the words come forth from his mouth and the sound of his voice, the proper, spoken words, was glorious.
    Juliette flung herself into Danny’s arms and within seconds her hands had travelled all over his body, feeling his skin, touching the hairs on his bare chest, stroking his face. He was shirtless, but wearing faded loose jeans – the jeans he always used to wear around the apartment, with the tear across one knee.
    ‘You’re real,’ she sobbed into his shoulder. ‘You’re really real now. You’re finally back.’
    Danny laughed as he held her close.
    ‘How did this happen?’ he asked.

    ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, ‘I don’t know and I don’t care.’

Chapter Eleven

    From there, they grew closer and closer. Danny still couldn’t leave the apartment – he said he felt fear, sensed danger when he came close to the front door – but Juliette didn’t care.
    ‘I don’t have to share you with the outside world. We have each other, that’s all we need.’
    He still didn’t require food or drink, and at times his form seemed to waver, as though he was always on the verge of being swept away by a gust of wind, or frightened out of existence by a change in their environment, instilling in Juliette the primal need to protect him – to always keep him safe from the outside world.
    Juliette didn’t eat much either. Even though Danny said he didn’t mind, she didn’t like to eat in front of him – and besides, she was rarely hungry. She hadn’t bothered to order groceries for weeks now, the supplies she had in her pantry were enough to fulfil her tiny diet. She slept only when it suited her. More and more it seemed ludicrous to follow that archaic ritual of sleeping when the sun slept and rising when it rose. And besides, she mostly had no knowledge of the time – day or night, she kept all the curtains shut now, kept the apartment hot and dark. She stopped paying attention to the clocks and whenever Juliette did fall asleep, Danny just lay next to her and watched her and waited for her to wake again. She had never bothered to get the air conditioner fixed, she didn’t want anyone else coming into their lives. She filled the rooms with the heady smells of candles and incense – although she was careful now to ensure she didn’t set anything on fire again. The still-blackened patch of carpet and curtains was a helpful reminder of that terrifying day – but it was also special to her. That fire had been the reasonDanny had been able to come back to her. That spot in the lounge room was almost sacred now.
    One night, Juliette heard far-off bangs from outside the apartment. She had been relaxing on the couch with a glass of red wine, listening to some jazz while Danny played with her hair and chatted with her. They were laughingly remembering the first time Juliette had attempted to make macarons – after seeing them on an episode of Master Chef – and they had failed miserably, turning out rock hard. They had joked at the time about the different potential uses for the failed biscuits – like an ice hockey puck or a paperweight. In the end, Danny had concluded that they were best kept on the bedside table as weapons for protection against intruders in the night. He was quite certain you could inflict a reasonable amount of damage if you attempted to bludgeon someone with one of them.
    Now they stopped laughing as Juliette