[Author's Note: I am so so sooo sorry for the long delay between chapters. I've had a busy last few weeks. But I'm going to be trying to post at least once a week now. Again, I really apologize. Here's chapter six.]
Chapter Six
I jolted awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. Bed? Thought I fell asleep on the couch? No way. No, Warren wasn't here. Great, now I'm delusional.
But there was Warren, standing in my doorway looking scared. "What's wrong?" He asked. "You screamed."
I didn't realize it, but my throat hurt. I cleared my throat, looking up at him. "Nothing. I'm fine." I said, climbing out of bed. For some reason, I felt the need to make sure the Glock was in its place. I looked at the dresser as I came to stand in front of him. He looked worried, but I wasn't going to tell him I was plagued by night terrors.
"You can't lie to me. What happened?" He asked. I couldn't look him in the eye. I had to make sure the gun was still in its place. "What's in the dresser?" His voice broke through my thoughts.
"Nothing." Was my automatic response. However, of course, that gave away my concern for the object. Warren moved to make for the dresser, but I stood in front of him. I sighed, knowing I had ratted myself out. I took a step back, facing the hollow chunk of wood that held my clothes.
I pulled out the top drawer, which was pretty much empty and I drew up the false board. I pulled the Glock out and made sure the clip was still full. It was and I replaced it in the false compartment, closing the drawer.
Warren looked shocked when I turned to him. "Why do you have a gun?"
"My uncle was worried about me. I've had it since I got emancipated. Although, it would have come in handy before then." I said, stepping around him.
But Warren had other ideas. "What for?"
I didn't look up at him. Why did I have to do this first thing in the morning? "I'm supposed to carry it in my purse. But I don't like having it. That's why it's stashed."
He looked concerned, for me or the gun, I couldn't tell.
"Can I have my coffee now?" I asked, moving around him. On the table sat a plate of doughnuts and a plate of bacon. I looked up at Warren as he came into the kitchen.
"I was gonna make you breakfast in bed, but…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
I couldn't help myself. I hugged him and slowly, he hugged me back. "Thank you." I said with a smile as I went to the coffee pot that was full of the dark brown liquid. I poured my cup and sat down at the table across from Warren. He waited for me to dish my plate before he dished his own.
A loud knock sounded at the door, so I stood to answer it. But opening the piece of wood had fear coursing through my blood. My commander from The Agency stood in front of me in street clothes; a pair of nice jeans and a black long sleeve under a blue winter jacket.
He had an air of Military around him. His hair was that of salt and pepper, cut short enough to keep out of his eyes. If you hadn't known him, his face looked fairly gentle. But I had seen that gentle face give execution orders.
I swallowed the lump of fear that formed in my throat. "U-uncle Tommy. I thought you were in China, at the cell phone factory? When did you get back?" It was the only thing I could think of as I raised my eyebrows, telling him to get the hint.
He gave me a little smile, completely understanding. "I had to take care of some business in the area so I thought I'd stop by and see how you're doing. But it looks like you've got company." He said, peeking around me to wave at Warren, still sitting at the table.
"Oh gosh. Uncle Tommy, this is Warren. He's the guy I went to dinner with the other night. Warren, this is my Uncle Tommy. He sent me over the cell phone." I hadn't actually told my commander I had gone to dinner with Warren, so I'd probably get reamed later.
"Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you. I hope you're treating my niece right." My Commander said to him, shaking his hand and giving me a little sideways shoulder squeeze to help the performance.
"Trying my best." Warren said, giving a little smile.
"Do you want to join us for breakfast?" I asked him as he let go of my shoulders.
"No, no. You eat. How about lunch though? I saw a nice looking burger joint on the way into town." Uncle Tommy said.
"Yeah definitely. Noon?" I asked, walking him to the door.
"Sounds good. I'll see ya later, kid." He said, giving me a little hug before he left.
I stood there after the door closed. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to leap out of my chest. So when Warren set his hand on my shoulder, I about jumped out of my skin.
"You ok?" There was that concerned look again. So I plastered on a smile to answer his question. "Of course! He just didn't tell me he was back state-side." I turned to head back to the dining room table, but he grabbed my wrist. He looked completely exhausted all the sudden.
"Why do you keep lying to me?" His question caught me off guard a bit. I pushed a stray lock of blue tinted hair out of my eyes. He was kidding right? He can't be serious. But as I watched him, expectantly waiting for an answer, I knew he was serious. He honestly wanted to know why I had been lying to him, and continued to lie to him.
I couldn't answer him. There was no way. If I said anything, I was giving myself up. And ratting myself out would most likely end me. Literally. They'd kill me to keep their dirty little secrets.
But staring into his eyes, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to spill my guts. I wanted to tell him about the shotgun in the closet; about the fact I was actually spying on him; that I was reporting back to a super top secret agency that even I didn't know the name of.
I had no cover story for that. I hadn't planned on someone actually picking up on me. I hadn't expected to get close enough for someone to see me.
My heart felt like it was breaking in half as I stepped to the door. I couldn't believe what I was about to do. I didn't think about it; I was going robot for the next few minutes. If I thought about it, I'd hate myself for the rest of my life.
"Warren, I think you should go now." I said, holding open the door.
He looked incredulously at me. "You can't be serious."
"Warren. I've told you more about me than my old therapist knew about me. I never told him half the things I told you last night. I willingly opened myself up for the first time in probably close to ten years. And you're asking for more. I can't do that, Warren. So it's probably best if you go." I told him, giving a small wave to the door.
"And I didn't show you any of me? I didn't completely open myself up?" He was getting mad at me. He took hold of the door and closed it, telling me he wasn't going to leave without some form of struggle.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm pretty sure hiding a secret from one person about an ability you can talk about with all of your friends is on the opposite end of the spectrum from being raped and beaten and not being able to tell anyone."
His muscled shoulders were starting to smoke and I wondered briefly if he'd set off the smoke alarms. Oh right, the building didn't have any. "I never said it was the same."
"But you were comparing the two. Side by side; the same way you'd compare TVs before you picked which one to buy. Not secret to secret." I said, glaring at him as I once again opened the door.
About the time I had opened it, he'd closed it again. And he was seriously beginning to piss me off, fire power or not. "Do I look like I want to leave?"
"Did it look like I asked you?" Anddd here I go. "Ya know what? I'm sick of this. You can't just push me around like this. You're not my master. I'm not your slave. 'You don't want to hurt me?'" I asked, quoting his very words from the night before. I saw the smoke simmer down and almost disappear.
Almost. But he'd riled me up; he was getting it now. "No. You're full of bullshit. Just like everyone else on this god forsaken planet. You're full of shit and all I hear is lies. You don't want to hurt me. You're trying to treat me well. It's all completely worthless if you can't prove it to me. Prove to me that you want to be right here involved in my life. Because right now, you're the one lying to me."
And as I finished my little (maybe not so little) rant, I saw the hurt in his eyes. It was a look I never wanted to see again. But it was necessary. I'd been trained for this. When they get too close, push them away.
I mean, I'd learned that skill long before the Agency picked me up off the street, but they just helped me hone it. Warren stared at me. I knew I hurt him. I also knew he'd most likely never talk to me again. The Agency part of me was relieved I didn't have to worry about it anymore.
But the other part of me, the part that had nothing to do with Jade Young, or the Agency, or lying to Warren; that part wanted to cry and beg forgiveness. That I didn't mean a word I'd just said. It wasn't me. I was possessed or temporarily psychotic. But I couldn't.
All I could do was watch him move slowly, as if in slow motion, to the table to retrieve his leather jacket. He looked at me and there were five million emotions and thoughts going through his head.
I had to look away to keep from tearing up. I had to be one of the most evil people on the planet Earth. How could I possibly be doing this right now? I didn't even know.
He stood there for what felt like a hundred years. And then, a whisper so faint, I almost missed it. "I never lied to you." And he opened the door, leaving silently. No slamming doors, no screaming in my face. Just a whispered truth that cut me deeper than I'd ever done to myself.
I made my way to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered what I had just done. I wasn't even sure. I wasn't recognizing the person in the mirror. My mind was still in robot mode. I couldn't process anything. But if I switched the robot mode off, I'd sit in the bathtub crying for the next five or six hours, pooled in my own blood.
I walked back out to the kitchen. If I stayed in the bathroom too long, robot mode would switch off. I looked at the clock, showing me I had an hour to get my shit together before I spilled my guts.
My skateboard carried me down the sidewalk. My Commander didn't want to risk coming back to the building, so he sent the address via text. Which, I'll be honest, took me a good few minutes to figure out. But once I could retrieve the information, I set off.
The pavement hummed under the wheels of my board. It took me about ten minutes to get to the restaurant that my Commander had deemed our meet up location. I had to brush up on my top secret lingo, as to not bluntly say in the middle of a crowded room, "Peace is most definitely a super."
Yeah, no. No way would that blow over well. The result would probably be similar to someone who had had sex in a church. Only, not from the being above me. I opened the door to the food joint, setting my board near the rack of coats.
I knew without even looking that we had the booth closest to the door. Easy get away in case of emergencies; which did actually happen sometimes. I sat in the seat across from him. He was most definitely not happy with me. I couldn't really blame him, but whatever. It'll come back to hit me in the face pretty soon. Nothing I hadn't handled before.
"Jade." He nodded to me curtly, reading an article in the newspaper.
"Abraham." I said, in the same tone. When the waitress came by, I asked for a glass of sweet tea and she scurried off to the kitchen.
"You want to explain yourself?" He asked and it reminded me a lot of the tone my dad gave me when he came into the basement yelling, about me yelling.
But he wasn't asking me a question. I had no highway option here. "There was an awesome sunset last night. Did you get a chance to see the colors?" I asked. Translation: Warren's a strong super.
"No, I didn't. I got caught up in the Yankees game on television." He said back, putting down the printed paper. Translation: Good recon. "Did you ever give me your Christmas list?" Translation: I want a list of supers.
I pulled a small notepad out of my back pocket and stole a pen off the closest counter. I quickly scribbled down the names and powers I knew. "I just remembered I left light on at the house. I don't remember what room though." Translation: Zach was a super, no idea what his power was.
"Oh, and Aunt Jenny wanted me to tell you my favorite color is purple. I guess she thought you forgot." I added. Translation: Magenta was a super, no idea what her power was.
"You can tell Aunt Jenny that I knew purple was your favorite color." He said. Translation: Good work. You're doing better than I thought. He nodded to the waitress and we ordered our food.
I smiled at the waitress as she left. Abraham just looked at me. "Your mom and I were having an argument the other day; do you rather being hot or cold?" Loose Translation: Are you crushing on the mission?
I knew that he hadn't of course actually talked to my mother, but even the mention of my mother stung desperately. "Cold. I like the snow." Translation: No way.
He nodded with a smile, obviously not believing me.
"So Warren and I broke up this morning." I told him in English speak so we could actually kind of talk. I hated trying to remember all this damn code speak.
"Oh? I hope he wasn't hurting you." Now, that was a sincere sentence.
"No, no. He just kept asking more and more of me. I finally told him, 'I can't do this anymore.' He got mad at me. There was practically smoke coming out of his ears." And I raised my brows.
His eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "Smoking at the ears you say?" He asked and I nodded. I was really hoping he would get the picture. I took the napkin closest to me and begin doodling. Maybe he thought I was distracting myself, but I had my reasons. I slid him the napkin and smiled at the waitress as she brought out my bacon cheeseburger.
"Those are really cool flames. Did you draw them?" The waitress asked. I smiled. "Yeah." She flashed a dazzling smile back at me. "That's really cool." She reiterated. I nodded my thanks and she left to go serve some other mug.
"Did you need to build a fire in your place last night? It was pretty cold after I got into town." He said, sliding the napkin into the inside pocket of his coat. Translation: Did Warren have a fire kind of power?
"Yeah, I did. It was freezing." I told him, before taking the first bite of the best hamburger I'd ever had in my whole life. Translation from my code speak: Yes, Warren did have a fire kind of power.
"Alright, well. I need to catch my flight back to Asia." He said, thankfully remembering my totally made-up-in-left-field story.
I nodded. "Thanks for lunch." I said, sincerely as he flicked a fifty out onto the table for the food.
He gave a small smile and I saw a flicker of warmth in his cruel eyes. He wasn't all bad. Just, about 98%. But not all bad.
[A longer chapter to make up for not updating for so long.]