Page 11 of Playing For Keeps
“I’ll get something to help with this, but you’re on clean-up duty.” The lighter-haired man leaves.
The darker-haired guy stands back as I dry heave. Once I’m done, I push myself back against the wall and run the back of my hand over my mouth.
I curl into a ball and stare at the man, waiting for him to reprimand me. “Sorry. I don’t feel well.”
He sidesteps around the puddle of bile and spit on the floor. “The mess isn’t too bad, so forget about it.”
“I’ll clean it up. Just don’t hurt me.” Sweat pebbles on my upper lip.
If I didn’t feel so terrible, I’d be an anxious mess. That’s not to say I’m not scared out of my mind, but my body doesn’t seem to be responding to my fight-or-flight defense mechanism.
Instead, I’m dealing with a drug-induced hangover from hell that has left me nearly incapable of having a normal reaction to this situation.
He crouches before me. “I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”
“Why do you want to know?” I run a suspicious gaze over him.
“Don’t worry about that and tell me.”
Aiden’s lecture about what to do if a situation like this occurred plays on repeat in my head. He had just become an FBI agent, so I let him school me on his protocol to stroke his ego. I never thought I’d get abducted, but maybe he knew something I didn’t.
Remembering that conversation, I know what I need to do. “My name is Red.”
“Red? That’s your given name?”
“My parents are hippies and named me that because of my hair.”
Before the guy digs deeper, the other one returns.
He places a bucket and a rag on the floor. “Here are the supplies. After you’re done, join us in the office.”
“Okay, boss,” the curious one says with his accent back in full force.
I wait for the other one to leave. He whistles some unfamiliar tune as he disappears out of the area.
Once he’s out of earshot, I take a good look at the guy who keeps changing his voice. He picks up the cleaning supplies and gets to his knees. He begins his clean-up duties without asking me to help.
“Why are you doing that?” I gesture to the scrub brush in his hand.
He peeks up at me. “I was given a job to do. You’ll do yourself a favor and learn from me. Anything that one asks you to do, do it without question.”
I study him as he wipes up the floor. There’s something gentle about his aura. I get the distinct feeling he’s not high up in this organization. My brain is too fuzzy to figure anything else out about him.
“So, Red, where are you from?”
“Why do you keep switching accents?”
He stills and raises his head, burning his gaze into mine. “I’m not like the others, so call it a disguise.”
“He’s the nice one,” the girl next to me says.
I force myself to an upright position. “How do you know for sure?”
“I’ve been here for three days. He’s never done anything bad to me.” Chains rattle from her room.
The man studies me as I take in the declaration of the girl next to me. “I told you I’m not here to hurt you.”
I nod as my heartbeat picks up. “Are you here to help?”
