Love's Arithmetic

III:Abetting

As Caer looked down at the rather large and menacing knife laid on top of an assortment of other tools. She pleaded silently with her eyes, hoping that the man wouldn't harm her. She had no desire to die! She was young and had so much life ahead of her! And there was no way she could die looking like this! Her hair was plastered to her forehead, a tangled mess that would take several applications of conditioner to smooth out again. The curly mass was unruly and gave her problems every morning.


At that moment she could imagine the crime scene photos of her body. They would depict a woman with a knotted rat's nest made of straw on her head. She did not need a jury looking at her like that! Caer! She scolded herself, where are your priorities? She wanted to roll her eyes at the rational/frugal voice in the back of her head. The devil on her left shoulder responded to the angel, My nail beds are where my priorities lay. After all, they need a nice place to sleep!


The handsome man seemed oblivious to the internal war raging inside her head. "If you don't cooperate, I'm afraid I will have to use this on you." He said in a menacing tone. "However, we still want you alive, otherwise, what good are you to us? So I believe we'll start with your fingers. That sounds interesting doesn't it?" He pulled the knife out of the bag, running it along the vulnerable point of her throat. "If you're fond of all your fingers I suggest that you don't scream when Brian removes his hand." He regarded her carefully, "Do I make myself clear?"


Nodding, Caer hoped the man wouldn't still use it on her, even if she cooperated. She didn't want to die, she just wanted to wash her hair!


The man in front of her nodded and her mouth was released. "What do you want?" She whispered, watching the knife that was still dangerously close to her neck. "Money?"


He inclined his head, "Among other things."


Caer could feel the blood draining out of her face. She could only imagine what those 'other things' where. The man must have seen the expression on her face because he laughed, a low sound that was neither menacing or creepy. She found it odd that he would sound that way. "As long as you cooperate you have nothing to worry about."


He bent down to the bag he had abandoned on the floor at his feet. "However," he said, holding up a roll of silver duct tape, "I cannot depend on your word alone while we transport you. As an insurance measure. I'm sure you understand." He smiled and proceeded to pull up a corner of the tape, the sound grating on her nerves.


"Please!" Caer said, more loudly than she had intended. Fear had made her rash. "I promise I won't scream!"


"You're screaming right now. And if you were listening to anything I was just saying, you know I'm not a very trusting person." With that, he pulled the roll up to her head. Despite her attempts to dodge the tape, even though she knew it was futile, he wrapped several layers around her mouth and over her hair. I'm going to have to shave my head after this ordeal! Caer cried in her head, my poor hair!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Garrett didn't feel even a minor twinge of guilt as he gagged the woman. He did, however, avoid looking at her face, as her eyes were terribly expressive. He had caught a glimpse of the fear in them as the anger faded. He had anticipated a more business-like woman, one with more world savvy, however, looks were deceiving, and hers were rather distracting.


Shaking his head he pulled out the bandanna he had in his bag and wrapped it around her eyes. He didn't want her seeing where they were going, and he didn't want to see the way her eyes reacted every time he looked at her. Motioning to Brian to pick her up, he cleaned up his things, scooped up the over-sized bag he had found in the hall, and led the way out of the high rise.