Couldn’t she just fucking fall in line with her creepy smile and dark gaze that chilled him to the bone?!
Agent Bradford threw the fork down on his half-empty plate and stared out the window. It was a terrible thing, he told himself as he checked his pulse, the power they gave to women.
He mused on the mistakes other men had made. To deny the essence of women as shortsighted, frail, and irresponsible did society a disservice. Women, too, he thought, suffered from the new age of empowerment. They couldn’t possibly be happy with the pressure meant for a man’s shoulders weighing down on them.
Jane Elring, in particular, had been given power that she barely knew how to use. And she certainly wasn’t prepared to handle the responsibilities that came with it, let alone even capable of doing so.
If only she understood that she was a tool for them to use. If only she could accept her part to play. But she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, and Agent Bradford realized his office had lost control over her a long time ago. Now the only thing left for him to do was to keep everything in check and minimize the damage she did as much as he could.
The door to Sparky’s Diner opened and Jane came walking in, her bodyguard slightly behind her. She threw Sparky one of her biggest smiles and greeted the waitress she remembered from the day before.
Instinctively Agent Bradford’s hand went into his right pocket and clenched the little box that was never far from his side. He collected his thoughts and told himself that he could always push the button. He always had the button.
Agent Bradford took his thoughts and plans and pushed them back as far as he could. Hid them where his anxiety and insecurities could not reach them. Could not force them back up to the foreground of his mind. His resentments, his idea to check on the patients in the hospital, he wanted them hidden from the girl’s dark, demanding gaze.
What could he do to distract himself?
Agent Bradford took his phone and started scrolling through the messages he received. Most were work-related; one was from Dr. Greer and he flagged it as important. A few pictures his wife had sent him a couple of days ago.
The pictures then, he decided.
The first picture was of his son. The twelve-year-old was sitting on the couch with one of his computer-game things in his hands. Agent Bradford recognized the boy’s dark hair as his own, but the scrawny shoulders and pale skin weren’t quite his. He worried that the boy would never turn into a man while playing all those games he was interested in.
The second picture was of his daughter giving the photographer a tired and annoyed look. She was very much her mother with her green eyes and fiery red hair. But the girl had a temper and she would talk back, something Agent Bradford blamed the changing times for. If he had ever talked to his father like that…. Maybe he was going too easy on her. Maybe she needed more from him. Agent Bradford knew that he could be stricter with her if he had to. Could still discipline her if that was what she needed from him.
Picture three came with a caption. For your eyes only. His wife lay on their bed with her breasts exposed for him to see. Long strands of her red hair ran down her neck and nestled on her chest, reaching as far as her hardened nipples.
This was the picture he needed and Agent Bradford allowed his mind to wander off. It went to Becky’s sweet smell and the warmth of her body on his. Her soft fingers that could still send shivers down his spine and her wet, generous lips. Lips that would kiss him, and tease him, and get him off if he was too tired to fuck.
“Is your breakfast no good?”
Agent Bradford turned off his phone and looked up at the waitress standing next to his table.
“Is there something wrong with the food?” the waitress asked as she pointed at his plate.
He looked at his half-eaten breakfast that had gotten cold by now and said, “No. It was good. I’m just not very hungry, I’m afraid.”
She gave him an understanding smile.
“Just get me the check. please.”
“Sure can do. I’ll be right back!”
Agent Bradford looked around the diner to see where Jane had gone. He found her sitting some tables away with her back toward him. Didn’t she know he was here? Had she not seen him?
The waitress brought him the bill and he paid her, plus a small tip. Then he got up from his chair and tried to sneak around the girl that still had her back toward him. If he could avoid her, he would very much like to.
“Good morning, Agent Bradford.”
“Good morning, Jane,” he said with as polite a tone as he could muster.
Trying to look calm, Agent Bradford walked over to the door of the diner. He didn’t look back as he walked outside.
Once the fresh air filled his lungs and the door closed behind him, he kicked himself. He had allowed himself to believe that he could pull one over on her. That he had some kind of control over all of this.
Agent Bradford reminded himself of the basic rule he had come up with years ago. The girl knew everything. She always knew everything.
Again his right hand clenched the little box inside his pocket. But he always had the button.
Caleb followed his client through the small-town hospital. The antiseptic scent lingering through the tight hallways brought back unpleasant memories. It was at once both the cleanest and most toxic aroma ever to grace his nose.
Whose idea had it been to paint the walls such a nauseating green? The color made the already cramped hallways feel even more crowded.
He noticed that Jane’s footsteps were remarkably clumsy, as if she could lose her balance at any time. Her usual slow and deliberate movements had, on the whole, been supplanted by an almost frantic demeanor.
Jane dodged personnel left and right, trying her hardest not to lose pace. She was in a hurry and Caleb traced her diligently, preparing for the conflict that she was heading into. He thought that this might be the first time she would need him.
Halfway through their journey Jane turned toward him. “Walk in front of me. Do you remember Dr. Stewart’s office?”
Caleb nodded and did as she instructed. His client’s reasons were perfectly clear to him. The nurses and doctors would not move out of the small woman’s way, but they would certainly try to avoid the big black man with thunder roaring in his eyes. If they didn’t, Caleb had no problem shoving them aside.
It didn’t come to that. His menacing appearance was enough to prevent any incidents and they quickly made their way through the cramped hospital.
Caleb had studied Jane ever since they arrived and made a pretty good estimate of what she was capable of physically. He adjusted his own pace to the maximum he thought she could handle and looked over his shoulder from time to time, checking if she could keep up.
“This is perfect, Caleb,” she reassured him after she caught him looking for the second time.
It didn’t take long for them to move through the small hospital and soon Dr. Stewart’s office came into Caleb’s view. He stepped aside and watched as Jane dashed toward the door. She didn’t bother knocking.
Caleb watched as she opened the door and walked inside. He upped his pace so it didn’t take long for him to be in the office with her.
Dr. Stewart’s office was small and cramped in an almost perfect reflection of the hospital’s essence. What little natural light there was came from a small window to the left of the room where the sun would shine through for a few hours in the late afternoon. His desk was small and cluttered, with a seemingly infinite amount of papers piled up in a strange kind of organized chaos.