Sinner

Chapter 6

No more words were exchanged. Ryan silently showed me to my apartment. He pointed his hand at the door to my apartment when we arrived. I put my key in the door and it unlocked. Before I went inside I noticed Ryan kept walking and did not turn back to the elevators we came up in. He lived on the same floor as me.

I silently went inside and shut the door. I could feel relief flood my body. I then decided to look around my apartment. There was a small hallway you walk through when you enter that leads to a living room. In here there's a table with six chairs around it for eating. There's also a couch facing a flat screen TV. In front of the couch is a small coffee table.

To my left is a kitchen area. It's pretty small, but an okay size for one person. There's a fridge and freezer along with a stove and microwave. Reasonable.

To the right is a door. I open it and see it's my bedroom. A queen size bed is in the center of the room. There's another TV in here too that sits on a dresser. There's also a walk-in closet right next to the bathroom.

I walk back into the living room and notice a note on the coffee table. I pick it up and read it:

Dear Agent, Welcome to the Agents of Secret Stuff. We are happy to have you join the agency. You will find clothes you will need for training, missions, and sleeping in your dresser. Toiletries are in the bathroom. Food is in the kitchen.

Tomorrow you will start training. After training one agent will escort you to Walmart and you will buy any personal items you may NEED.

We look forward to your future with the Agents of Secret Stuff.

-Traci, Lead A.S.S.

I set the note down and sigh at the agency's unfortunate acronym. I then check around the apartment. There is indeed food in the kitchen cabinets and clothes in the dresser.

When I check for toiletries in the bathroom I glance in the mirror. I look awful. My cheeks are bruised and have swollen so I look like a chipmunk. My hair is a mess. I see a little dried blood below my lip.

I could kill Ryan right now if he was in the room. At least I tell myself this, because according to reality that would be physically impossible with Ryan's size and training.

I decide the best thing is a shower, so I strip from my filthy and torn clothes and hop in.

After my shower I get out and find some clothes to relax in for the day. Glancing at the clock in my bedroom, it's only 11 am. I find a pair of plaid blue pajama pants and a black T-shirt in my dresser. I notice how every clothing item is stretchy and unisex, so that any person could wear them.

Hopefully I have a big budget when we go shopping tomorrow.

Once I'm done changing I look in the mirror again. The swelling and bruising has gone down, but it's still noticeable. I groan and walk back into the bedroom and sit on my bed.

As soon as my butt touches the duvet, a knocking sound comes from my door. I get up and walk back to the living room. My hand reaches for the doorknob and I open it.

My stomach drops. It's Ryan.

"We need to talk" he says emotionless.

I open the door wider so he can step in. I notice his eyes skim my pajama pants but I don't care. It's the last thing on my list to dress for him.

He steps inside and walks right to the living room. All the apartments must be identical. He seems to know where he's going. He sits on the couch without me saying anything as I close the door. I walk towards him but I'm way too uncomfortable to sit next to him, so I stand my ground across the coffee table.

"What do you want?" I finally mumble.

"What do I want? You to be locked up" he says bitterly.

"Get out. I don't need your shit" I say angrily.

"Don't tell me to get out. We need to talk" he states.

"Then hurry up" I say.

He shoots me an angry glare. "First, I'm in charge of you. Traci just told me that. I'll be watching you from now on. So don't defy me. You're on thin ice my dear" he says.

"That a threat?" I spit.

"You bet. One bad report and I can be happy you're behind bars" he says.

I bite my lip to keep from yelling a nasty reply.

Ryan continues. "Anyway, about the training. As you know you will be working in the field with me. So you'll need a bunch of combat skills. Both by hand and gun. You have target practice tomorrow. Be ready by 7 am sharp. When I knock on your door you need to answer in no less than 5 seconds. Clear?"

"And if I answer in 6?" I ask.

"Did you not hear what I said a minute ago? That would be one bad report" Ryan threatens.

"You can't make me your slave" I say.

"If that's how you see it, then yes I can" he retaliates.

I pinch my nose. "Anything else, Master?" I say sarcastically.

Ryan's silent for a moment. I look back up at him to see he's staring intensely at me. We lock eyes for a second before he looks away. "No" he says quietly and gets up. What had he been thinking? Why the sudden change in mood?

He walks past me towards the door. Right before he opens it he turns around harshly. He looks at me and says "I'd practice running from the couch to the door in 5 seconds if I were you." He smirks.

"Fuck you" I say once again.

"Oh I can't wait for your hand combat training tomorrow. It will give me a good reason to beat you up" he threatens.

"GET OUT!" I roar.

Ryan steps outside my apartment and I slam the door. With the sound of the door slamming echoing around my apartment, I feel tears build up in my eyes. I run to my bedroom and hop into bed. I immediately start sobbing.

Why did I have to be kidnapped? Why did I have to work for an evil agency? Why did so many people have to die? It's not my fault that they're dead!

Is it?