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4.12 Broken

I was being interrogated. They asked me questions about who I was and everything else.

Hours must have passed and I did not see any familiar faces.

Sometime later that day, Colt Lewis entered the interrogation room in his suit. His looks made me miss Ry.

"Did Ryland do this to you?" Colt asked me. I repeated the story from earlier, but I gave me best performance of it. My life was depending on this lie.

I needed to convince him that I had no idea what Ry did.

"So what did he show you?" Colt pushed me for an answer.

"He took me to a hotel and we had sex, that was it. He was a bit rough, and then I suddenly woke up on that street," I told him. Colt looked like he wanted more information.

"Is there anything else you would like to confess?" he insisted. I was very aware of the fact that we were in an interrogation room and that every word I said was being picked up on.

"No, Mr. Lewis. I would prefer to return home," I uttered carefully. Colt finally realised that I would not spill any beans.

He took me to his house. It looked so dull after everything I had experienced. There were new possibilities out there for me, and I did not have to hang on to Colt in order to survive.

I just hoped that Ry had planned all of this.

After I had showered, I looked for Colt. He was drinking his precious whiskey again.

"You are not the first one, you know," Colt said as I entered the room he was in. His tie was loose and he sat back on his seat.

I was curious to find out what he meant.

"First of what, Colt?" I asked him, crossing my arms.

He immediately reacted, "Don't do that."

I noticed that he was looking at my chest. That was so out of character for Colt - he never looked at me inappropriately.

"Colt Lewis, what is wrong with you?" I observed him. He seemed tired.

"Nothing. It is just that he has done this before," Colt went on. He swung his whiskey attentively. "You are not the first order to act crazy, you know. It is a little game we play, Ryland and I."

"Shut up, Colt," I scowled. The alcohol was speaking on his behalf. "I have not done anything wrong. Stop trying to incriminate me!"

"You are forgetting who you are talking to," Colt uttered. He was acting extremely childish for his standards. Colt was playing with the alcohol in his hand and he was looking at my soft spots.

"I am just an order," I scoffed. "You seem to be forgetting that."

"Suck my dick if you are a fucking order," Colt muttered, stressing the syllables to their edge. I was shocked that Colt was able to speak such language. Three bad words in one sentence were a record for Colt.

He continued, "Ryland only wanted to screw you. You are a killer. You are nothing else. Ryland has seen plenty of them. It is nothing special to him."

These words sliced my skin, but only the top layer. I did not feel anything for Ry. He was my ticket to freedom.

Was I going to be free if Ry and his men were my crew? They probably had as many rules and boundaries as the agency did.

Clearly, my definition of freedom was convoluted.

The night I had spent with Ry had influenced me to my core. I was willing to give up one master only to give myself to another one. I wondered how many orders before me had given it a thought.

"I need a minute," I excused myself from the room full of alcohol. I leaned against the nearest wall because I needed to catch my breath.

I had not expected him to follow me, but he did. Colt stood in the middle of the hallway. Surprisingly, he held himself together for a drunk person.

He asked me in a low voice, "Are you broken already?"