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4.8 Weapons

"Fuck, that changes things," Ry said and turned me around. There was something in his eyes. "I thought I was dealing with a poor mother Mary... Shit. This is way better."

"Can I touch one?" I asked him in a low voice. I felt so much dark excitement.

"I am speechless. Fuck."

"You like the f-word," I uttered looking down.

"I don't just like the word, love." Ry led me further inside his weapon fortress. He showed me a silver weapon and let me touch it.

"I have never had a gun in my hand," I confessed to him.

"I could shower you in them, if you wanted." He thought about what he had just said. "That sounded wrong. But you get what I mean, right?"

I nodded.

"If you do not kill with guns and shit, then why have you not killed Colt yet? If I had to spend another day with that motherfucker, I would have already shot his head off," Ry said. It all got together in this maze of weapons. These weapons revealed something about Ry.

I said, "He intrigues me."

I picked the gun up. It was heavier than expected.

"He scares you."

"Something like that."

"Plus, there is nobody else in that house. Nobody you can pin the murder on. I get it, love." Ry really got me. I looked at him like he was the second coming of god. "Fuck, do not look at me like that. We can't fuck in here. That is dangerous."

"I do not care," I gasped. In my head things had started rolling.

"You love danger?" I nodded. "I should have made you blow me in the car then. That would have been fun, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, you should have," I replied, breathing hard. I imagined it. We could have crashed. He had already been playing with our lives.

Playing with my life was easy. My life was not mine. I belonged to the agency. It was easy to play with other people's toys and it was easier to destroy them, too. There was no emotional connection.

He put the gun back in its place and then we quickly left the restaurant. There was an entirely different entrance to his place. He lived on the top floor.

Ry let me walk ahead of him and he explained that they owned the building.

Colt had a lavish home. Ry's apartment introduced me to a special kind of luxurious. It looked like he had hired a decorator for every meter of his place.

"Most of it is eco-friendly, if you are wondering," Ry said, as we both took in the apartment. He looked very proud of it.

I uttered, "I am sorry."

"What for, love?" he asked me.

"I... I am not dressed accordingly," I said. I felt even smaller than usual. Ry was bigger than anybody I had ever been in the presence of.

"I should have taken you to a cheap hotel," he joked. "All of a sudden, you are looking at me like I bite."

I looked away. Oh, he would bite. Ry looked like the guy who bit as a loving extracurrical activity.

I noticed that he still had not let me out of my handcuffs. 

Ry was larger than my life had ever been. He held me in the palm of his hands. I was at his mercy and for once, I was ready to accept the loss of my empowerment.

He could hand me a loaded gun, and I would not dare to shoot him.

Ry surprised me by taking his shirt off. His body was well-toned and his chest was covered in a complicated tattoo. He reached behind himself and put his own gun aside on the table. This one was black.

I was simply blown away.

I guessed I had figured out another fetish of mine.

"Take off your shirt, love. Do it nicely," Ry demanded. His hand reached for the gun on the coffee table.

He spun it.