Writing Prompt Wednesday: An excerpt from Chapter 20 of "The Good Thing", the WIP novel.

I wasn’t really going to post any more snippets of the novel, but I recently had a rather nice request for more, and because I’m a softie, I have relented. Lol. This piece is from Chapter 20, the chapter I am currently writing. However, I actually wrote this back in November, and it’s still one of my favorite scenes of the entire project to date. When I went back to reread and decide what to post today, I had to share this one. And honestly, seriously… I don’t remember writing this AT ALL! Ha! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (PS: This is in rough draft form, and as such is subject to change in the final draft.) – JRF

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The soft whoosh of the door opening broke his concentration and Vince gripped the arms of the chair with both hands as he turned to confront his jailer, face already twisted into a snarl.

Which softened only slightly at the sight of a woman standing there, dressed in casual clothes instead of a uniform or doctor’s coat and clutching a tablet.  She looked him over once and then shook her head, a mane of black hair standing out around her smooth-faced features.  Her shoes clicked softly against the floor as she walked around the chair to go to the screens and study them, and as she passed Vince inhaled the scent of vanilla and a fruity shampoo.  In the otherwise empty air the smells hit him hard, adding a double layer to his migraine.

“Vincent Michael Sully Dannel,” she said into the screens.  “You’ve always been quite the fighter, haven’t you?”

“Where am I?” he demanded.  “Who are you?”

She turned from the screens and came to his side, the smell of her washing over him like a blanket and making the pain crash in waves against the backs of his eyes.  “I am Evelyn Carter,” she said, smiling down at him, and strangely enough it looked like a real, genuine smile.  He wasn’t sure if that was comforting or even more terrifying.  Her hand went down to his shoulder, cool and dark against his own skin, and traced the fingertips lightly over his arm to his right elbow, where she checked the bandage taped over the soreness there.  “I hear you are also quite a lover, too.”

He squinted at her, unsure of her motive.  “Unstrap me and I’ll give you a demonstration.”

Her smile widened, flashing brilliantly white teeth, and her hand wandered back up over his bicep, hovering a moment before pulling away.  She shook her head.  “As tempting as that might be, Vincent -”

“Vince.”

“- I am well aware of your penchant for bribery, and the fact that you often use your specific set of … skills… to that end.  I am also well aware of your penchant for violence, and that if I were to actually unstrap you, you would be just as likely to render me unconscious – or dead – as to actually deliver on that promise.”

He looked her in the eye.  “I keep my promises, whatever they are.” You promised Aria…

“So I’ve been told.”

“I would make it worth your while.”

“You would try.”

“I could try, if you let me.”  He moved his wrists in the restraints as a matter of point, putting all the sincerity he could muster into his voice, his face, willing his body to exude poignant honesty even as his mind desperately ran through escape scenarios.

“You’re pretty good, Vincent,” she said finally.

“Vince.”

“I almost even believe you.  Unfortunately, that’s not why we’re here.  You put up a good fight, but it’s all over now.”  Evelyn Carter looked down to her tablet, the glow of the screen highlighting the fine curvature of her cheekbones and chin.  “Vincent Michael Sully Dannel.  Registry number 56689321.  Third son bred of 43329078 and 42890986.  Exceptional genetics.  Assigned to progenitor pool at 17.  Top-selected breeder years 19 through 27 in multiple communities.”  She paused, lifted her black eyes to look directly at him again, and he could see the square of the tablet screen reflected perfectly as a tight blue rectangle in the dark pool of her irises.  “Also reprimanded several times for failing to follow Registry guidelines.”  She cleared her throat.  “Attempted bribery of Registry officials at age 18, 20 and 23… and 35.  Attempted escape from Duo communities of residence, age 18, 19, 22 and 23… and 35.  Tampering with Registry documents, age 25.”  She lowered the tablet, obviously having this part memorized.  “Siring and harboring unregistered child, age 23 through 27, assaulting Registry official, age 27.  Sentenced to implantation of LANCE device and eight years in labor camp in hopes of rehabilitation, age 27.”

The graphs on the wall of screens behind her spiked again as Vince curled his hands into fists.  He felt his blood pressure rising, swelling the pressure in his head fit to burst.

Evelyn Carter shook her head.  “The rehabilitation was a failure.  You’ve had a lucrative career as a progenitor, Vincent -”

“Stop calling me that.”

“And have contributed greatly to the genetic quality of the next few generations of humanity.”  Her hands clasped around her tablet.  “But the Registry is done with you.  You have served your purpose.”

He held her gaze steadily, but the damned vitals sensors betrayed him.  His skin felt clammy, cold, despite the fact his insides were burning.

“You have repeatedly demonstrated you cannot obey the laws, and your most recent slew of transgressions at Una Duo are unforgivable, I’m afraid.  Your retirement will be a death sentence.  I’m sorry, Vincent.”

***