Wonderful, the part of my job that I absolutely adore, my handbag contains my torture kit, pliers, cattle prods, gag and earplugs for me in case he chews through the gag.
I've successfully tied him to a chair in the bathroom, yes...I'm going with a cleaner method of extraction but if he doesn't co-operate...then boy is this going to get ugly fast.
I strip him off his shirt so that I can have easy access in case I needed to carve him up, what I see when I do leaves me breathless in horror, bite marks...specifically fang marks all over his neck, and a brand CW on his shoulder, it's bold but it's definitely not new...the skin around the brand is raised but it had healed. I take pictures of it then shove my phone back into my pocket.
He's not coming to yet so I aim a jet of water at his face from the detachable shower head. He startles awake and looks at where he is, then he realizes that he's tied up and starts to look panicked...perfect.
"Let me go, do you know who I am, I know your face, I can contact the police!" He starts to yell at me and I thank God that this suite is soundproof...what he got for his benefit is going to be for his torture.
"Oh, big talk for someone who got tied up by a 5'4 girl" I roll my eyes and tie my hair back up in a ponytail. "Where's the girl" I start, picking up the pliers.
"What girl, wh-what are you talking about" he stammers staring at the pliers I just picked up, his voice trembling and sweating bullets. I kneel in front of him taking his hand and holding the pliers to his fingernail.
"One more chance, where is the girl" I murmur and he shakes his head so I pull out his fingernail and he screams, ah...such a delightful sound.
"I don't know anything I swear!!! She was a gift!" He yells out and I grimace...who gives out little girls as gifts...what the fuck.
"A gift? Oh so she was in a box and you didn't know what it was and then you found it was a girl and decided to be the father she probably didn't have" I say in a mocking voice ripping off another fingernail "try again"
"Fuck!" He screams and that's not an answer so I rip out another nail then drop the bloody pliers on the ground and pick up my cleaver...heavy fella.
"You know, these can grow back" I say pointing at the bloody fingernails on the bathroom floor "but I doubt they'll be able to reattach your foot" I hum holding up the cleaver, he begins to shake his head .
He's as good as dead anyway but it's good to give them hope right? My directives were to gather information from him then kill him so he can't warn the people he works for.
"I swear I'm not in their inner circle, I just do some of the dirty work...please I have a 6 year old daughter who needs me" great more lies, I hate lies. My people have done the works on this guy and we know that he has no family, and no children.
"You know what I hate...I hate lies, and you are just full of it" I growl raising up my cleaver and chopping off his right toe.
His screams echo throughout the bathroom and I sit back down in the chair opposite him, waiting for him to shut up so I can continue.
"You lost a toe...big deal, people lose toes all the time right...like that girl Hacintha that you locked up in your torture chamber for 12 days" I murmur trying to sound casual but I'm burning with rage.
"I didn't do anything she didn't ask for" he whimpers and that's when I lose my cool and punch him square in the jaw, knuckle rings and all. He coughs up blood and spits at me and I cringe, shaking out my hand, fuck that hurt like a bitch.
"Do you have a death wish" I glare and he coughs some more
"You're gonna kill me anyway so what's the point" he says and i see him poking around in his mouth for something with his tongue and my eyes narrow "all I can tell you...is that I work for the supernaturals" he says then bites down on whatever he was poking around for.
I spring to action immediately trying to get him to spit it out but his jaw is locked on it too tight...fuck!
Before I could lift up my phone to call for backup a bullet breaks the window and whizzes straight at Mr Myers...straight to the side of his head and it's a kill shot because by the time I open my eyes and close it, he's dead.
His words "I work for the supernaturals" roam my mind and I clutch my chest trying to rub out the unsettling feeling that I have in my chest...this can't be good. Not one bit.
I dial the cleanup crew on my way out of the hotel, and yes through the window. Thankfully Parkour was a necessary training one had to go through before they joined the secret service.
Shooting my grappling hook and use my handbag to slide down to the streets below me.
My phone rings and I pick it up, it's probably Andre, looking at the caller ID I nod to myself...speak of the devil.
"Hey man" I murmur making my way towards the spot I had parked my car before hand.
"Hey yourself, you sound rough" this is him fishing for information but I can't tell him anything yet, not until I tell the higher ups, it's too dangerous...too risky.
"Yeah" I murmur simply getting to the parking lot and locating my car, he must've heard the closed off-ness of my voice because he doesn't prod anymore.
"I've sent your flight details to you, the bosses want you back immediately" he says, I would love to go back but I'm too mentally exhausted to do that, I need a drink or two..or three.
"Cancel the flight...I'll come back tomorrow" he makes a noise of protest and is about to say something, probably to discourage me but I cut him off "thanks, bye!" Then I hang up.
I'm in my car now and something, I don't know what, takes me to back to the bar where I found Mr Myers and so that's where I go.
It's about 11:50 now and it looks like all the douchebags that had fanned out in search for unsuspecting women to warm their beds and never call back had left...just a few stragglers remained.
I scan the room and find an empty place at the end of the bar, I was still abuz with the adrenaline of seeing Mr Myers get shot right in front of me but I was down, I hadn't found the girl and what he said about working for the supernaturals still haunted me.
What did he mean by that, and why did he rather kill himself than tell me about it, what else is at stake here because It's sure as hell isn't just trafficking.
"Double shot of vodka on the rocks" a voice calls beside me, the voice was low and raspy, it sounded worn out but it was still tingly enough to make me turn to see who he was.
When I do, he's staring back at me, his dark brown eyes seem to be baring into my soul, his sharp chiseled jaw moves as he chews on an ice cube, he had on black fingerless, leather gloves and white fitted shirt over dark jeans, his aura screamed over confidence and rocky but he looked anything but that right now. I know that because that's my overall demeanor but everything today has got me in a rut.
I look away once I catch myself staring but it must've been too late because a deep throaty hum escapes the hot stranger.
"Looking is free you know?" He says and I roll my eyes but smile a little playing with the straw in the margarita I was nursing, I could always ignore him and go back to thinking too much and carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders but I didn't want to, I wanted to forget my problems for tonight..lose myself in a stranger like all the books I read, lose control once.
"Oh is it? Presumptuous of you to think I was looking at you" I say looking into my glass he smirks and turns towards me.
"You weren't?" He arches a brow and I nod "wow, I should fix that then" he rumbles using his index finger and thumb on my jaw to turn me to face him
"I'm John" he says running his thumb along the seam of my lips and I hum, I contemplate giving him my real name but I'm in a disguise currently so I give him the name of my cover for tonight.
"Jane" I whisper back biting his thumb a little, he smirks and gets up, pulling me to my feet.
"Wanna go somewhere to forget about this night" he says and I nod