Chapter 25

Tuesday

I open my eyes and she's there. The blonde. Setting five feet from me. I'm setting up; my hands are handcuffed to the anchor in the wall, just above my head. It's early morning; I can see the sun's light creeping in. My face, feels broken, bruised all over.

I'm so tired, this can't be real. I'm seeing things again.

She wears all black. I see fishnets. Pointy heels, arms in black glossy gloves. Her face covered under a black mask. I think Mardi gras, ball room dancing, that one movie.

She sets, staring at me without wanting to speak.  So I start.

"Is this...where I apologize?"

Her eyes look to me with intrigue, still not followed by words.

"...I don't love you, I never did, okay? It was just a ploy..."

Her face doesn't buy it. But I continue to lie with what feels like a broken bruised jaw. To set any seeds of dysfunction that I can. However I can.

"...Just my plan to separate...divide you...Another shitty man, with his shitty lies."

I jingle the handcuffs and wait for her first words.

She opens her mouth to speak but pauses right as the first word is about to escape her lips, then she closes her mouth. Smiling slightly, I see she wanted to watch my reaction.  

Point, her.

Instead her laser eyes lock onto me as she slowly stands from a folding chair.  It's then I take in her outfit.  Some lacey one piece, fishnets, knee high boots, gloves. Her boobs pressed to her neck. Latex, leather, lace.

She slowly strolls over next to me in the darkened room. Her heels click on the concrete, almost echoing. The air is so stale; her scent fills up my immediate vicinity.  I smell her deodorant. Some girly brand mixed with rubber.

She walks up to my feet, and I'm forced to look up to her. My eyes want to run all over her. Take in the erotic outfit, but, I hesitate. My eyes not straying from hers.

There she is, that smile, that stare. No words.  Her confidence over me, knowing I have nothing to combat her with, other than my mind and mouth.

"Silent treatment?...After all the work you did to abduct me?...Figured I'd be wired up to some "C.I.A. brainwash machine" by now."

She reaches over and takes my cigarette without breaking eye contact. 

My eyes break, to do a mental stock. One left. Bitch!

She puts it to her lips, then squats down and strikes my last match on the wall next to my head.  She lights the cigarette, then holds the lit match over my stomach.

I squirm for a moment, but stop. I can't move out of the way if she drops it. I can't fight it, so why try?  

I look to her eyes. She just watches me, like a bully over its victim. Our eyes locked, she realizes I'm accepting my fate, my pain.  Her face uglies, she tosses the match uninterested.

She takes a long drag, then blows it in my face.  I close my eyes, holding my breath; I wait out the cloud of smoke.  

When I open my eyes, she's moving back down on the chair.  Setting in it backwards, with power. Her legs spread, her eyes smug.  She holds the cigarette like a pro. I think, Vegas hourly girls. 

She's not going to respond to normal. I have to think different.

"Thirty." I state matter of factly, without offering explanation.

She gives me a raised eyebrow, then laughs to herself.

I don't budge, keeping my mouth shut. She doesn't budge, smoking my second to last cigarette. 

We set there for an uncomfortable minute. My shoulders ache. I show no discomfort.

Finally, finally, she responds.

"Thirty?" She dryly asks. Ashing her cigarette without care.

"You do speak!" I quip.

"Yes, well, you seem to have got me Sherlock. What's thirty?"

"It's my guess." I say without continuing.

"Do you enjoy being in pain?" She fakes anger, "Stating a random number like it's a secret is going annoy me."

"It got you talking."

"It's what got you chained to that wall." She states slowly. Ashes. Then looks back to me without continuing.

"What..do you want from me?!" I yank the handcuffs out of frustration. 

She just smiles, blowing a stream of smoke out the side of her mouth.

I close my eyes out of frustration. Breathing one out, trying to figure my way out. My way to unlock her from this, mission, she is dead set on. My mouth wants to ask "What, why, how" but I know that's what she wants. For me to beg.

Without opening my eyes, I state, "I think you're thirty years old. You look younger than what you are, but your attitude gives away your frustration with the other one...She's...twenty-five, twenty-six. You probably got assigned with her, new partner...or you're training her...You're...very pretty. You know this, you know men drool and fawn over you. I'm guessing you're bisexual, probably more lesbian as you got older. You've only dealt with men who are lowlife man-boys that want only your body, not your...sass. I don't blame you there. I'd be a lesbian too...you know, if I was born female...I'm guessing you were born on a coast...Oregon, or Washington. Traveled a lot, you're cultured, speak...three languages.  

"What three?" She stops me.

I smile with my eyes closed.

"English, French, and German. You wanted to get away from the U.S. mentality. You're smart, very smart. Probably valedictorian, or close to. You've wanted your intelligence to show thru, but have become jaded over the years with how society treats an intelligent women, who is also, what some might call beautiful.

"Know me so well. What school did I attend?"

"I don't know, your eyes say city tough, but that strength, I'm guessing country girl. What is this place, Idaho, Montana? Daddy was probably in financial, or some rancher. Scored off the charts in high school, got Ivy League attention. Guessing you stayed closer though. Stanford or Oregon. Made the big college trek, mom and dad helped...you have a mom and dad..." I smile seeing them in my mind. "Gene, and Carroll, or Randy and Vanessa.  They have no clue of what you really do...you tell them-"

"Stop." She commands.

I open my eyes and see she's not smiling anymore. I smile, then close my eyes, and continue.

"You tell them you work...for one of your old professors, which is probably, techniquely, accurate. I bet she recruited you, a long time ago. You were her aide. She helped you along after graduation. Got you interviews within...within what sector?"

"Stop!" She yells.

I'm not scared; I feel adrenaline, feeling like I'm seeing her life without having her tell me. I "know".

 "N.S.A....No, wait...your military!-GRK!"

My eyes bulge open and she's there.  Her forearm is lodged in my neck. I can't breathe.  My throat screams in pain but not a sound can come up.

"What. Did. I. Say!?...Are you happy, knowing everything!?...Does this feel like victory to you!?"

Her eyes are fire. Knowing I know her past is huge. Even with the immediate pain I receive from it. 

Her arm lets up a little and I can choke out a breath. She's breathing through grit teeth right in my face.

"The more you know...the more we will take."

I look up, choking out, "Take...every...thing."

Her eyes flare up and the pain intensifies. Throat is crushed and vision blurs. I hear her growl like a dog, then ringing. All is numb. She lets off and I gasp for air uncontrollably.  

"COUGH-COUGH-COUGH!...I mean...I mean it...if, if you have to put a bullet in me, after you tell me everything about you...then do it! You've seen my life...what do I have to lose?...What do I have that's "normal"?...Just be honest...trust...again...I promise I will not betray you...ever."

She refuses to look at me. Instead, she faces out the window. I see half her face. She's thinking.

"I know there is some attraction between us...am I wrong?...Tell me, and I'll stop talking all crazy...I'll just...ride out this...whatever this is!...Am I?"

She doesn't look back to me or respond.

"Am I wrong?...Is there an attraction?"

She acknowledges the cigarette, tossing it to the ground.  Her eyes drift to mine.

"Tell me I'm crazy."

Her eyes say more than her mouth, and she turns to the door.  

"No, no, no, no." I whisper to myself.

She walks away from me to the door. One hand goes to the door, the other to the back of her head. I stop, frozen in this moment.

Her hand unlaces the mask, with one pull. I see the mask fall loose from her head. She stands at the door, one hand on the door, the other holding her mask. She stands directly away from me, not allowing a clear view of her face.

"Wait, wait...stay with me...you can put your mask back on, and I'll stay all, chained up...and we can just...talk...I can tell you all the things your computers couldn't tell you about me, I won't ask anything about you...you can torture me, or choke me again, you know, get your frustration out on men and I'll sit here and contin-"

The door shuts. No clear view of her face.

I sigh, as I'm alone again. My shoulders are killing. My stomach is empty. I have to piss. Great way to start off...I don't even know, or care what day it is.

All I can do is position myself to ache the least. My boney ass on the concrete. My wrists in the handcuffs. My traps, now on fire. Before I know it, my eyes are heavy and I'm comfy enough to nod off.