Page 31 of Pose for Me
Ryell and I stare at each other, neither of us saying anything for a few minutes. His piercing, knowing eyes have me looking away, and I feel like I’ve lost.
“What is it like being an FBI agent?” he asks. I glance up to see if he’s just fucking with me. I can’t really tell. He has the best fucking poker face I’ve ever seen, and I hate him for it.
But I don’t feel like fighting today. My mind is all fucked up with my attraction to him, being alone down here with no one to talk to except him and not knowing if tonight is my last night on earth.
Even though I want to continue to fight and be angry and find an escape, right now, I don’t have it in me.
And I hate myself for that weakness.
Rubbing my hands over my biceps, I answer his question. “It’s…kinda boring. Not like what you see on TV and movies and shit. It’s mostly office work after we discover a crime. Then we have to follow the trail, which usually takes several more crimes before we get there.” I look pointedly at him, and Ryell doesn’t seem to care. I don’t think he will ever feel guilty for his crimes, which is disheartening.
If he did, that would mean I had a chance at freedom. That would mean no more lonely days here, with no one to talk to and nothing to do.
The loneliness is the worst part.
When I got off work and went home to my apartment alone, Ichosethat. I didn’t mind because I could leave when I wanted, head to Drab Dragon and be around anyone, especially my partner and favorite bartender. I could call up Brock and ask him to grab lunch. Hell, I could even go to the office and find a rookie to converse with for a few minutes. But this forced isolation, not talking to someone for hours on end, not being able to go out when I want to get some social interaction, fucking sucks.
And it hurts.
I’m being ignored, and I can’t change it because I’m fucking stuck behind these bars.
Ryell tilts his head, those knowing eyes roaming over my face. “You’re upset.”
I glare at him, though I don’t have the energy to keep it up. “You fucking drugged and kidnapped me after fucking my brains out. Yeah, I’m upset.”
He smirks but shakes his head. “No. That’s not it. It’s something else. What is it?” When I remain quiet, his smile widens. “Come on, Lane. Spill. I’m good at secrets, remember?”
What could it hurt? It’s not like he would tell anyone since he plans to kill me at some point. Besides, who would he tell? And I’ll be dead, so any information he knows could no longer hurt me.
“I don’t… I don’t like being ignored.” I tap my temple. “Fucks with my head.”
“Why?”
I glare up at him, pissed that I even told him that. “None of your fucking business.”
He smirks. “It will be someday.”
Suddenly tired, I slump against the wall and shut my eyes. “Whatever, Ryell. Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not into it. If you’re going to kill me, do it. But don’t fuck around with it. Get it over with.”
Grinning, he scoops up his sketch pad and walks over to my cell, staring down at me through the bars. “I told you what I want, Lane. I want to draw you. In any pose I want. When you let me do that, we can move forward.”
“To what? My death?”
Ryell tilts his head to the side, gazing at me as if I’m a science project. “No. Not your death. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already.” He inclines his head to the dental chair that I keep glancing at but don’t look at too closely since it still has blood on it. “I’d tie you up there, slit your throat, and watch you bleed out like I did Janet.”
His cold and matter-of-fact tone makes me shiver. Why am I attracted to such a brutal man? Even with him talking about how he murdered someone, my body still wants him.
I’m fucking sick.
“You’re evil,” I tell him, spitting the words with as much venom as I can muster. But my exhaustion and spiraling thoughts just make me sound like a petulant child.
“So I’ve heard.” He knocks on the bars lightly, then walks backward toward the door. “Sleep well, Agent.”
Thirteen
Ryell
Lane looks…different.I can’t quite put a finger on it, but it’s like his fight is slowly leaving.
