Agent in the Dark (The Agents for Good) by Guy Stanton III Page A

and as I planned on having her anyway her choice in the matter was gone and thus she was my captive. She seemed to accept the statement of her captivity by me without undue protest.
    Glancing up she asked, “If I’m your captive, then why did you give me the knife?”
    That was a good question and I quickly searched for a plausible enough answer.
    “Have you ever seen a cat that’s been declawed?”
    She nodded.
    “There never quite the same again are they? In answer to your question, perhaps I prefer my cats with their claws still attached.”
    I got up to leave the room, “Rest now, there will be more food and drink, when you wake up. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
    There seemed to be a certain tension about her, as she stared up at me, as if expecting something to happen.
    “Relax honey; nothing is going to happen tonight.”
    I turned to leave the room, but her words stopped me, “Are you a Christian?”
    “Heck no!” I flatly responded.
    “You don’t believe in God?” She asked digging further.
    I glanced back before leaving the room, “I didn’t say that.”
    I closed the door behind me slightly unsettled by her questions. Why had she wanted to know that? And why had I given her the knife? It certainly didn’t make my conquest of her any easier, as I imagined that she could be quite lethal with a knife.
    The best answer I could come up with was that at the time I had simply wanted to take the fear out of her eyes. I rubbed a hand across my eyes in frustration. The woman was messing with me and I was likely going to get myself killed if I didn’t smarten up.
     
    Asia stared at the closed door for a long moment and then she cautiously searched through the pile of clothes. They were all her size. He must’ve looked at the size of her clothes she had been wearing, when he had removed them. Her cheeks stained red at the thought of that.
    “Oh God!” She whispered.
    What was she going to do?
    Quickly under cover of the blanket she dressed, which completely wore her out. She collapsed back against the pillows as several tears slipped out. She was so weak and he was so brutally strong.
    “What am I supposed to do against all that strength God?” She whispered out forlornly into the still room.
     
    She glanced down to the knife on the bed beside her. She didn’t for a moment think that cats clawed or un -clawed had anything to do with why he’d given her the knife. She’d watched his eyes drift down to the left, as he’d accessed the creative side of his mind in search for a plausible enough sounding lie.
    Why then had he given the knife to her?
    He didn’t seem or look such the wild man anymore. He’d shaved and pulled his hair back and it was a little shocking to have to admit to herself how handsome he was. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to dose up on steroids, but the sight of him with his shirt off! He was a hunk in every sense of the word.
     
    He had saved her. Now why had he done that? Right now she could be sitting in a Code torture cell having her eyes burned out with a red-hot poker or something worse. She’d seen the pictures of the atrocities that had been done to fellow Code Breakers. The pictures were freely posted on the Code’s mainframe for all to see.
    If her wild man hadn’t come into the group of human vu ltures that had seized her like a berserking Viking complete with sword that grim future would’ve been hers by now. Why had he saved her? For himself, that seemed pretty much clear.
    She buried her face into the pillows, “Oh God help me!”
    Why wasn’t he even now raping her? What kind of rapist nursed its victims back to health?
    Why had he given her the knife? It was a bit much to risk for even an extreme risk taker, which he seemed to be. In some ways he almost seemed decent. He no doubt had her Code drives, which meant to some degree she had to work with him and she cringed at the thought of what that could mean.
    Breaking the Code was worth every sacrifice