I sat in my hotel room with strips of a dry, white bed sheet wrapped around my torso like bandages to protect my back from infection. Soundless images of the explosion and of my face played out on the TV screen as I gingerly sipped my ice water. The top of my head burned slightly from the hair dye I had bought at a corner store before my picture had become public.
A click of the door lock caught my ear followed by the squeak of the hinges as it opened. Out of the corner of my eye I saw John leaning against the doorframe with a file in his hand. He stared at my battered form in shock. I guess he didn’t expect a Company trained girl to look like this after a simple sabotage. Or maybe that’s what he wanted me to think.
“Jane…”
“O’Connell’s dead.”
His sigh made me turn my head to look at him, wincing slightly at the pull it caused on my inflamed skin. John ran his hand through his hair before coming over to sit next to me. There was no smirk in sight. We watched together as the news continued to talk about my crimes. Soon it switched over to a picture of George O’Connell and the words “Murdered” underneath it.
“How did he…?”
“I did it.”
He looked over to me and put his hand on my back in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Instead, it caused shooting pain to shutter through my body. I groaned and he immediately removed his hand. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes and not from the pain.
“I killed him,” I whispered, still in denial. “I didn’t mean to, but I did.” “Don’t cry, Janie,” he said, trying to wrap his arms around my shoulders again. It was then that I realized the weakness that I was showing in front of Smith. For all I knew, he knew this would happen and was just a good actor. He could be taking advantage of my emotional state.
I stood up and started to make my way to the bathroom. “I’m fine,” I said as I wiped the tears away from my eyes. “I was trained for this. It’s just this stupid dye in my hair. If you will excuse me, I have to wash it out. You can leave my file on the bed.” With that, I dismissed him with the slam of the bathroom door…again. I ignored him yelling my name and his fists pounding on the door.
I wrapped a towel around my neck so the water wouldn’t get on my back and started to rinse the color from my hair, John’s voice echoing in my ears. “Jane! Jane, open the door! Jane! Jane…” I ignored him until the he grew quiet and the last of the dye ran down the drain. I used the blow dryer to get rid of the water and took a look at the final product.
A girl with henna red hair looked back at me from the mirror. It was as if I was looking at the picture John had given me just days before. Had it really been only a couple of days since I got into this mess? I thought.
I ran my hand through my hair one last time before turning to open the door. I was surprised when I suddenly found myself wrapped in two strong arms and had lips pressed against mine. My eyes were wide in shock then slowly felt them close as I sank into John’s kiss.
My senses were filled with nothing but John Smith, from his spicy scent to the gentle feel of his hands on my burned back. I felt his tongue tracing the outline of my lips and then forcing its way into my mouth. I was lost. I forgot everything that had happened: the killing, the explosion and the people looking for me. I even forgot why I shouldn’t allow myself to fall for John.
That is, until I felt a small pill slip into my mouth and felt everything around me go dark. I remembered the words that I had been taught when I was training for Company:
Don’t trust anyone, but especially not a Ghost Agent.