Maybe six-two, strongly built, mid-thirties, brown-skinned and handsome, he spoke as if he knew me. His easy-going voice was almost hypnotic. Most of his questions had been regarding my health, and he kept things very professional, However, I’d noticed his gaze occasionally took in my body. There was no wedding ring on his finger. Not sure it would have mattered if he had one. My body was on automatic, reacting to his looks and sexy voice, but my mind was on something else entirely. I couldn’t remember my name or why I had awoke in a morgue.
There was a second man in back of the van with us. Like me, he hadn’t said a word in the past two hours. He looked mixed, half black and half Asian. He wasn’t a bad looker, but he had this standoffish energy surrounding him. In contrast to the talker, he was short, perhaps five-eight or nine. Thinly built, I could tell that under his loose fitting black shirt, his physique was muscular like Bruce Lee’s used to be. From time to time, his green eyes would connect with mine. There was nothing sexual in his stare. It was like he thought I could be dangerous. One hand was always at his side. I suspected that a blade waited there, ready to cut into my flesh. He was probably right to hold on to it. Ever since they pulled me off the street and into the van, I’d done nothing but calculate how many ways I could incapacitate them.
Bruce Lee cracked a thin smile as if reading my thoughts, daring me to make my move. I held back, because neither man had threatened or tried to harm me. Besides, they seemed to know who I was, though the talkative one had yet to say a name. If his voice wasn’t so sexy and he wasn’t a looker, I might have screamed at him to shut the fuck up.
“I know you’re disorientated and probably a little nervous by now…” he was saying.