Compromised

Chapter 8

Anxiety and nervousness filled my body as the tension grew in the room. He looked at me with a hard expression on his face as he cocked the gun. I stayed in my seat, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves.

I watched as he reached over and grabbed his phone without breaking eye contact with me. He looked down at his iPhone, and his eyes started to scan something on the screen. I saw his eyebrow raise slightly as he read something on the screen before turning his attention back at me.

"Blaze Simmons, right?" He said in a deadly tone as he looked back up at me slowly, the loaded gun in his hand rested against the table and still aimed directly at my head.

"Yes." I answered quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Tell me... Blaze." He said as he scowled slightly when my fake name came out of his lips. "How is a behavior therapist able to take down three men, twice her size, with her arms fucking tied?" He said as he slightly furrowed his eyebrows. This man was unreadable, his emotionless demeanor would put the stoic British Royal Guards to shame.

"My foster parents owed a martial studio in New York. I've been training since I was 10... and have a black belt nearly every fighting style." I said honestly in a quiet voice. He was by far the most intimidating man I've ever met in my life, and I took a deep breath trying to regain my composure and confidence.

"Why were you in London?" He asked as he continued to look at me with a deadly glare.

"I haven't been on a vacation for years, and always wanted to see London." I said honestly again. I haven't been on a vacation ever, and London was always one of the places I've wanted to see. This little interrogation was easier than I thought.

"By yourself? No family or friends?" He asked in a serious tone.

"I have no family. Work too much to make any friends." I said honestly again, I really didn't have any friends.

"You seem rather calm for a woman who was almost sold into sex trafficking." He said coldly as he reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a cigarette. He brought it to his mouth before picking up a lighter on the desk, inhaling as he burned the end of it.

"I just killed a man, and knocked two unconscious after they tried to rape me. Now I'm sitting in an office, with a gun pointed at me. I'm in shock, so excuse me if my natural coping mechanisms are not up to your expectations." I said boldly as I glared at him, making his jaw clench at my words.

"What did they do to you?" He said after a few moments of silence, his deep and deadly tone causing a shiver of fear to crawl up my spine.

"Drugged me. Kidnapped me. Then three of them tried to rape me." I said as I leaned back in my chair. "I'm assuming that this is also an inappropriate time to ask for a cigarette, huh?" I said as I tilted my head up slightly and leaned it against the back of the plush chair.

"Extremely inappropriate." He said as he narrowed his eyes at me and leaned back in his leather chair and looked back down at his phone as he bit the cigarette between his teeth.

"You have a criminal record. A pretty extensive one at that. Grad Theft Auto, Arson, Robbery, and dozens of assault charges...interesting." He said in a low voice as he raised an eyebrow slightly and exhaled the cigarette smoke from the side of his mouth.

"I was a young kid with a fucked up past and anger issues. That's why I became a behavior therapist, to help people who were just like me." I said, which technically was half the truth. Being a CIA agent and taking down the criminals who caused the problems was much more beneficial than just talking about someone feels and prescribing useless medication.