Page 10 of Triple Threat

“They do not.” She scowled.

“My condolences, perhaps better luck next time,” I said. “In the meantime, I was going to discuss what was going to be on the menu this evening.”

“Dinner?” she asked and her interest looked piqued.

“Are you going to repeat my own words back to me every time I say something? Because honestly, it’s getting annoying as all bloody hell,” I said politely.

“I’m… sorry, no,” she said after a hesitant pause. “What’s on the menu? That chicken last night was pretty good.”

“If I start it now, I can have a rib roast done for a late supper. There is also a filet of sole that I could do with a lemon and capers pan reduction, fingerling potatoes, and asparagus,” I said.

“I’ve never had sole, what is it?” she asked.

“It’s a very tender white fish,” I replied.

“That,” she said.

“As it pleases you,” I said and smiled.

“Can I get some different clothing?” she asked.

“Maybe tomorrow, Poppet, maybe tomorrow,” I said. I could feel her staring daggers into my back as I left the room and locked the door behind me.

* * *

I broughther lunch sometime later, swapping the dirty dishes for a sandwich. She had swapped the lavender negligee for a rose colored one, with intricate lace trim above her breasts and around the hem.

“Are you this Lock guy’s servant?” she asked.

“Ah, no. We’re business partners,” I said.

“But you act like one?”

“In some ways, yes, but I could never be a proper butler. I have too keen a tongue and I’m not willing to keep it to myself,” I said. “I cook and keep the house, but I would do these things wherever I lived, and I happen to live in a very large, very old, very nice house,” I said.

“Do I have to stay in here?” she asked.

“That depends,” I said. “If you promise to keep a certain level of decorum, certainly not. If you would rather make a madcap attempt at escape, then, aye. I assure you the latter would be pointless. The doors are double deadbolts and they are all locked. The same goes for the windows. This place is for all intents and purposes, a fortress. The walls are reinforced, the windows are bulletproof, and shatterproof. There isn’t a landline phone, so there isn’t any way to call for help. Make as much noise as you want. The armor and insulation in the walls render them soundproof. We are also quite remote. The nearest neighbor is almost a mile away,” I said. Her eyes seemed to bulge at this.

“You’re joking,” she said.

“We aren’t at the point in our relationship for me to be funny.” I smiled.

“Oh, you aren’t a comedian, then?” she asked with a pluck that she hadn’t had since the morning she woke up.

“What do you do for a living, Sadie?”

“I fucking survive is what I do for a living, Mister Gordon Ramsey,” she said.

“That is a profession that I am quite familiar with,” I said. She rolled her eyes at me. “I happen to be a veteran, Her Majesty’s Royal Marines. I’ve killed many people, and despite their very best efforts, none of them were able to return the favor.” I smiled. Her eyes grew large again. “It’s a pickle you’re in now. Your keeper, who would much rather cook you nice meals and see you healthy again, is a skilled sniper, trained in interrogation, explosives, and cyber warfare.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s just in the movies,” she said. “I don’t believe you.”

“Quite; but they get most of that wrong, and for a purpose. Do you think that the powers that be would allow movies to show people how to kill and for a profit at that? It would be a mess, ruin the entire industry, and then the police departments would be even more useless than they are now. Half the things you see in the movies flags the police to what you’re doing faster than a cricket can hop, yeah?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked, something a little sincere, a little hesitant in her voice.

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