Read Agent with a History Online
Authors: Guy Stanton III
Tags: #thriller suspense, #action adventure, #thriller adventure, #dystopian climate change romance genetic manipulation speculative post apocalyptic, #romance action adventure, #dystopian adventure, #dystopian teen ya young adult romance love conspiracy government
He shook his head no, “No it’s not the only
reason.”
I looked down at the clothes, “By now I know
you must know that I play a significant role in finding what I
think you and a lot of others are after. Is that the other reason
why you want me with you?”
He met my renewed stare with an equally
matched intensity of his own. “I’m fully aware of how important you
are to what I’m looking for and knowing that is why I think you’re
safer with me, but it’s not the reason for why I’m taking you with
me other that is then also keeping you safe!”
“To trust what you’re saying involves putting
quite a lot of trust in you. I’ve been betrayed before.”
“Not by me!” he said firmly his eyes never so
much as batting away from mine.
“Okay, I’ll go with you willingly, but I’m
keeping a gun at all times.”
“Absolutely, have three or four of them if
you want. Now I imagine that after all of today’s events that
you’ve worked up a bit of an appetite.”
Now that he mentioned it, I was starving.
He must have read the answer in my
expression, “Get dressed and I’ll take you out to dinner.”
He had started to turn away, but then
stopped, “I almost forgot. There was some blood on your
clothes?”
“Just burns, nothing serious.”
He pulled a little first aid kit out of a
bag. “Still you should take precaution and get it cleaned right and
bandaged.”
Something wild went through me and I brushed
by him and sat down on the bed in front of him. Reaching up I
pulled the robe off my shoulder. He just looked at the bare
shoulder and said, “I meant you.”
“Well, you’re here, so why not?” He opened
the kit and soon had the burn cleaned and bandaged. I let the robe
slide back and then I pulled it up to reveal the outside of my
thigh.
Hesitantly, he kneeled down in front of me
and soon had it treated too. He glanced up at me and, as if more to
himself than to me, he said, “I should probably go now.”
He got up and went to the door and I followed
him. A little desperately I asked, “Flint?”
He turned back and I leaned up and kissed
him. He deepened the kiss and my hands were on their way up to wrap
around his neck, when he caught them and leaned back breaking the
kiss.
We stared at each other breathing heavy for a
few moments. Why had he stopped?
“Today has been a very emotional day for you.
Trust me, I’m not against kissing you and a lot more, but I’m not
going to take advantage of how you’re feeling right now. I think by
now you’ve guessed how very much I want you, but I’m man enough to
win you on my own merits and not take advantage of a weak moment on
your part. Take your time getting dressed and, when you’re ready,
I’ll take you out to dinner.”
He let go of my hands and stepped back and
closed the door softly. I rubbed my hands into my eye sockets
savagely. What had I been doing? What must he think of me?
This wasn’t like me at all! As embarrassed as
I was right now, I wished I was still kissing him. One thing was
for sure, he was showing me that I could trust him, even as I
increasingly discovered that I couldn’t trust myself, especially
around him.
I looked through the clothes. He had done a
very good job! Not everything was stuff that I would have bought,
but it wasn’t going to look bad on me either. It was just
different, more colorful than my more reserved color choices often
were. Now all I had to do was to get dressed and go face him after
the fool I had made of myself. That wasn’t going to be easy.
I stepped down the stairs quietly not wanting
to be heard, but he was at the bottom waiting for me within
moments.
“Absolutely beautiful.” He said, and I
couldn’t meet his eyes and instead felt my face flushing.
His fingers lifted my chin up and before I
knew what he was doing he was kissing me. I stared at him a little
shocked, when he drew back. He reached up and rubbed a finger
across my bottom lip sensuously before his eyes rose and met
mine.
“There’s nothing wrong with kissing and I
intend on kissing you a lot more. I just didn’t want our kiss
earlier to go farther than our relationship should just yet. There
is no reason why you should be embarrassed of yourself because of
your kiss and invitation earlier. I want that too, just not yet,
understand?”
“Yes.” I paused for a moment. “Thank you for
being a gentleman. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
He smiled charmingly “And fortunately for
you, you’ll never have to meet another.”
He opened the front door from which all the
bars and mesh had magically disappeared and ushered me out into the
warm evening air with a hand on the small of my back.
What had he meant by that last statement?
I had the best evening of my life. He took me
to a swanky restaurant that I don’t think I’d ever have had the
nerve to go to alone much less be able to get a reservation to. We
walked right in and were seated at one of the best tables in the
place, without a reservation.
Apparently Flint was something of a regular
here and a well liked one by the owner. We ate, but most of all we
talked. I couldn’t exactly remember what we had talked about now,
other than it had been a little bit about everything and nothing in
particular.
It had been great and sometime during the
laughing and aimless talking I had fallen in love with him. I had
never wanted it to end, but he hadn’t disappointed me any when we
had gotten back to the house after our dinner that had stretched
past three hours in length.
He had taken me up to my room and pressed me
back up against the door and kissed me into passionate oblivion. At
some point he had stopped and opened the door and gently pushed me
inside before closing the door and walking away.
I had slipped the night dress on that he had
been thoughtful enough to buy me and crawled into the super
comfortable bed, my mind and heart awash with all things Flint.
“NO! Please stop hurting her! No please!”
“Wake up!”
I came awake with a start to find Flint
beside the bed shaking me. With a sob I reached for him, “Don’t
leave me!”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” He said, as he
slid into the bed to sit upright with his back against the head
board.
He pulled my head over onto his thigh and
began to rub away the bad memory of the dream with his hand on my
back. After a while he began to stroke his fingers through my curly
hair, not saying anything.
Sounding defensive, even to my own ears, I
asked, “I suppose you want to know all about my nightmares?”
He didn’t say anything and I was about to add
something to the effect that it was none of his business when he
said, “I met your father.”
I’d pretty much figured out that he had to
know who my father was by now. “He told me you tried to kill him
once. I wish you had.” I responded softly.
He didn’t correct me and tell me that was the
wrong way to talk about a parent, and I was grateful for that.
People often just didn’t understand. Some people needed to be
killed and my father was one of them. Like a poisonous snake
slithering toward a playground full of kids he needed his head
chopped off.
“He told me what happened to you and your
mother.”
I bolted upright and turned on him. “He told
you? He had no right!” I screamed and started to get off the
bed.
He caught me and brought me back against his
chest and held me there while I struggled to be free.
It was no use. He had a strength that made my
own appear nonexistent and I cared for him too much to smash my
fist between his legs and incapacitate him like any man would be
after such a blow. I stopped struggling and let my head fall back
against him.
“How can you even still want me?” I asked
softly, feeling all broken up inside.
“The things that happen to us don’t make us
who we are unless we let them. Sometimes there are good things that
come out of the experiences we have in life, but sometimes there
not. Sometimes we let bad experiences dictate our lives for us,
instead of just letting those moments pass us by. What happened to
you as a girl was awful, but it doesn’t make you the person that
I’m holding right now. But, it can stop you from enjoying what you
were meant to have in life if you let it. What happened to you will
always be a part of your past, but it doesn’t and shouldn’t have
anything to do with the way you live the rest of your life.”
I just laid there. He was right, of course.
I’d fought the same battle with myself over a million times it
seemed. At least now I didn’t have to fight it alone anymore.
I turned my head and kissed his neck and
breathed out, “I love you!” against his neck too softly for him to
hear. I slid down until I lay with my head on his thigh again. I
played with the golden cross on my necklace.
“Did your mother give that to you? It’s very
unique. I’ve seen several others just like it in the past.” He
asked.
My voice quivered slightly, “I took it off
her body before they dumped her in the ocean for the sharks to feed
off of.”
The toned muscles of his thigh twitched
beneath my face and I glanced up and saw deep fury written across
his face even though the gentle touch of his hand on my back hadn’t
changed.
He was mad clear through. It was nice having
someone like him mad on behalf of me. At some point I fell asleep
only to wake to him sitting on the corner of the bed fully dressed,
as the sun’s early rays were just beginning to pour through the
windows.
“Come on sleepy head, the open road is
calling our name.”
I sat up and looked around. “Where are my
clothes?” “Already packed. I left some out for you over there.
We’ll get breakfast on the way.”
He went to the door and said over his
shoulder, “See you in ten.”
I hopped out of bed. Ten minutes! That wasn’t
enough time to get properly ready!
I walked down the stairs fifteen minutes
later, my hair still wet. He glanced at his watch, “Not bad!” I
rolled my eyes.
Outside, I was in for another shock. My car
was pulled up at the curb. Was there nothing he didn’t know about?
He beat me to it and swung the passenger side door open and I
stopped arching an eyebrow expressively.
His smile was boyishly charming. “I thought
perhaps I could drive for you mademoiselle?”
“Be honest, you just want to drive my car
don’t you?”
“You’re right, of course, may I?”
I sighed expressively and got into the
passenger side. He slid into the driver’s seat with a look of
eagerness. He slid a pair of dark sunglasses on and, only half
jokingly, I asked, “Promise me something.”
He turned to me, “Name it.”
“Promise me your last name isn’t Bond or
Bourne or something like that.”
He looked over the top of his dark glasses at
me. “You have to admit I’m a little bigger than Bourne and as for
Bond, unlike him, I have only one woman that I plan on
seducing.”
“Is that so? How’s that working out for you?”
I rejoined playfully.
He reached out and grasped the back of my
neck and pulled me forward for a kiss that I got lost in. He pulled
back and just smiled. I resettled down into my seat and silently
acknowledged a point well taken.
“Well Miss Lisa ready to begin your life of
crime?”
Heck, why not, I thought impulsively. I
reached forward and got my sunglasses off the dash and put them on
and then met his matching polarized stare. His mouth was twitching
a little and broke out into a full fledged grin as I said, “Put it
in gear!”
We were on the edge of the city, when my
convictions got the best of me, “You’re not really involved in
criminal activity are you?”
He looked over at me with a smile, “That
would be a matter of perspective, now wouldn’t it? I can tell you
that we are highly regulated.” He finished in mock seriousness.
“Regulated by who?” I asked skeptically.
“Why by our own strong moral
consciences.”
“Yeah, right!” I looked away out into the
passing scenery smiling.
Several hours later Flint made an abrupt exit
off the freeway and onto more rural looking roads. I sat up and
looked around with concern. “Why did you get off here?”
“It’s Sunday.” He said the day of the week
like that answered something.
I glanced at the clock it read 10:25 and I
glanced back up at him. He wasn’t seriously going to…here?
He pulled into the crowded parking lot of a
church. He took his glasses off and glanced over at me as I
stammered out, “But I’m Catholic!”
He snorted, “Exactly!”
He got out and opened my door and waited
expectantly for me. Hesitantly I got out, “But I’m not dressed to
go to a church!”
I protested as he took my arm.
“You’ll find out that protestant churches for
the most part don’t mind what your dressed like so much as that you
come regularly.”
“Protestant!” I whined.
Couldn’t he have taken me to something at
least Orthodox. I was pretty sure this was a sin of some sort.
“Evangelical to be exact.”
I groaned out loud. “Flint this is against my
beliefs!”
He stopped and regarded me seriously. His
fingers reached out and pulled the golden cross out of my shirt
from where it had been nestled and fingered it for a moment.
His words were full of intense meaning and I
felt them rock me to the core, “This is a very pretty necklace,
which I realize has a lot of special meaning to you, but do you
know that some of the very worst villains that I’ve ever
encountered in my life wore crosses around their necks just like
you and thought they were justified to receive an eternal reward
because of it, regardless of the atrocities they committed daily?
This necklace and the rituals that go with it aren’t going to save
you from anything Lisa. It’s not enough to believe that Jesus
merrily existed once and that by acts of service in His name you
gain eternal favor. You need a relationship with your Savior. Your
faith is not justified by your works, but rather your works should
bear testimony to your faith, which you should be actively pursuing
in relationship with God every day and not in the recitation of
litanies to saints that have taken the role of false deities. Now
everyone’s been given a choice to make in life Lisa, so you can
stay out here and continue to believe that the proof of your faith
lies around your neck and in the prayers you recite or you can come
with me and start learning that your Savior is a far more
personable Infinite Being than the symbology of someone forever
nailed to a cross with no further interest in your daily walk other
than to remind you of how much He once suffered for you. What’s it
going to be?”