by Maggie Lee
“No, unless you want me to, I was guessing by how you covered your eyes that you weren’t ready?” His deep voice conveys no emotion and I can't tell if that's calming or worrisome. He looks like the best kind of trouble. On any other person I would be rolling my eyes, but on him I can’t help wondering how that lip ring would feel during a kiss.
Oh god, I don't even know him.
“Let’s keep them off for a moment, I’m not ready to wake up just yet.” I bring my knees up to my chest and rest the side of my head against them, wrapping my arms around my legs.
"Can't blame you, but I'm sure you have questions. I'm ready when you are." His voice travels as he moves across the room into my view and opens one of the windows.
“Who are you?” My voice comes out smaller than I want and fades into the room.
“Do you want my name or my credentials? Or do you mean you as in the whole group? Your question is rather vague.” He never looks back to me, but just stays facing out, staring off into the night.
“I want to know it all, but let’s start with y-”
“Axton.” His one word cuts me off and it takes me a moment to realize that he actually spoke his name.
Axton. That fits, he looks sharp and dangerous. Like one hit from him could essentially cut someone in half. His parents did well with that name. If he wasn’t so handsome, the ruggedness he possesses would be deadly.
“Oaklyn,” is all I retort back.
I’m not sure why I feel the need to be snarky, but sitting in this dark room, with him facing away, allows me to hold onto the little bit of courage I have.
“I know. Oaklyn Brielle Oxford. Twenty three years old and roughly about one hundred and twenty pounds. Bachelors and almost a Masters from Georgetown University. You haven’t done any paperwork to continue school after though, so we are to believe that within the next month or so you will be applying to ‘three letter donut clubs’. I’ve studied your case file extensively.” He turns his body back to me and sits against the window sill.
Case file. I’ve been watched. He mentioned applying to donut clubs? He’s an agent from somewhere, but not an official organization?
“You know all of that, and all I get is your first name?”
My question is answered with a chuckle, and he just watches me for a minute.
“I want it all, all of the answers I can get, Axton.” I test out his name on my tongue, seeing how it feels. His smile lessens but doesn't completely fade away. I look away, feeling his eyes staring me down.
“Axton Malik. I’ve technically been an FBI agent for just over five years. The rest of my team joined after me, although we have all known each other for most of our lives.” My world sways a little and I have a flashback moment, seeing a group of people surrounding me.
“Is that who was outside of the room earlier?” It had to be, I recognized the voice from when...
“You’ve met the rest of my team, but I won't give you names until I let them come back in. That way you can put a name to a face. Any other questions?” Shit, they caught me and brought me in here. I was leaving class and rounded the corner into...A Nordic god? A tall beautiful blonde man. He grabbed me and I was brought in here, where I demanded to see a badge and then passed out. They must have caught me, nothing is sore from hitting the ground.
“Does my file really say what I weigh?” I ask, looking back at him.
He lets out a snort that turns into a nice laugh, it feels easy. Sitting with him like this eases my heart, he doesn’t seem as dangerous as he probably is.
“Yes, height and weight, two birthmarks.” My eyes widen, asking questions I can’t voice. Why would he know that? “Medical record. Your shot records are ridiculous, you should have just got the chickenpox vaccine when you were younger. Shingles is a bitch.”
I sit stunned in silence trying to think up another question. My mind wanders in the wrong direction though, even in this dark room I can tell his eyes are the same shade I’ve seen in the mirror my whole life. A deep green that is comparable to the emerald earrings my father left me when he passed away. We watch each other for a few passing moments, his face holds a curiosity he won't explore and I can’t help but wish he would ask me anything.
Although, he may have nothing to ask, it seems he knows much more about me and everything going on than I do. I’ve been taught my whole life that the government is only self-serving, first with the loss of my father due to their callousness and then when my mother moved us around to avoid having to deal with them. She was against me going to school in one place so long, but even despite her warnings, I’ve been on a mission since I graduated high school. I’m going to join an agency and work from within to figure out what exactly happened to my father. I went to his alma mater and follow in his footsteps as a criminal profiler. Axton already knew that, even though I haven’t applied to any of the agencies yet. Every internship I did, I did with a local agency or psych ward, I held off from trying to work with the FBI or the “Three Letter Donut Clubs” he mentioned early. My mother still didn’t accept my choices, and being captured now, I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have listened.
“You’re paling again, do you want some air?” He leans forward like he’s gonna come help me, but pauses, waiting for me to give him the go ahead.
“No, not yet. I can’t get up.”
“I’ll help you up in a minute, but let’s finish our conversation first, ask me the tough questions.”
“Alright, so, what exactly is Beta One?”
“Well, that would depend who you are asking. We’ve been told by the director we are a new kind of agent, training since birth. However, we have been told by captains that we are to train and then be children, which I guess is why we aren't just emotionless FBI robots. However, you will see that some of have grasped having a personality more than others...”
“That was the most non answer answer you could have given.” I adjust my position to face him better and sit more comfortably.
This is beginning to feel like a game. He said when I was ready to leave, we could leave. I want to know what is going on and then I want to go home. My eyes drift away from the floor and my thoughts, up to Axton. He just stands there looking a little smug, like I’ve played into what he wants. He’s toying with me. Jerk.
"So patience is not a virtue with you, good to know for future reference. Beta One is a government sanctioned team that is part of the TUBE Program. We are the first team, and you're our last member. We have all trained our whole lives and were brought together when we graduated high school. We went through our final training through college, a sort of Quantico if you will and then we started searching around for you in between missions. You should have been with us since we were kids, but it’s not what happened." He sits back against the window with his arms crossed, watching me watch him.
“Why me?” My head is swimming.
“Well, see, I’m not entirely sure other than you should have been trained with us. We have been told a few different things, but gotten no definite answers. You were taken away from us when we were young. The FBI has tried to keep tabs on you since you were little. They somehow could never get to you though. When we asked why we weren’t provided with just another team member they decided it would work to our advantage to have a variable. I guess it gives our team the best of both worlds, having someone who didn’t train with us. Just another layer to their study of sorts.” His tone comes out very factual, like he is just briefing me for whatever strange missions they do. Nothing at all like I’m being told about a lifetime of my privacy being invaded. Emotionless robots was about spot on.
“I’m speechless. I want to yell at you, I want to ask a thousand questions more and yet I also want to curl in a ball and go to sleep.” My honestly must catch him off guard, because his smug face falters.
“We haven’t been in your personal business, just keeping a watch out since we found you. We weren’t going to approach you till after graduation, at least t
hat's what our orders stated. Although, I wasn’t sure if Berklee or I wouldn’t crack and eventually come into the vet's office.”
“Berklee?”
“The blonde.” Oh. Spunky. I like it.
“She wants to meet me?”
“Her and Everlee, but Everlee is more reserved. Berklee has been watching the surveillance for years and keep electronic tabs on you alongside the actual agents that tried to catch up to you. Which is probably why we should have seen this little problem coming, but well, were not full proof. Guess they can write that in the study.”
“What problem?” I stretch my legs out and prepare to stand.
“You don’t have to get up yet.” He looks torn, leaning forward wanting to come help me up, but holding himself back.
“What problem, Axton?” I continue pushing myself up till I’m on my knees. Every move I make is shaky and unsteady. I stop on my hands and knees to catch my breath.
“Well, there was this publication.” He pauses and I lift my head up, his face is twisted into a disapproving frown, however he doesn’t make a move to get closer and help me.
"Publication?" I stand and start to move to the window, if he is lying about any of this, I want him to have to look me in the eyes while he does it.
"Yes, Berklee keeps an eye out for your name and anything pertaining to you on the dark web, and up until last week we had never gotten a hit. Suddenly your name was everywhere, all over. Seriously." His words stop my heart and I halt myself. I need a second before I continue.
The world around me spins in a blur, but quickly rights itself. I know I fainted, but I shouldn’t be this weak. I feel like I can’t get air and dizziness is right there ready to take over again if I don't keep a good hold on it.
"Why? What did I do?" I don't try to take a step yet. My walk will be too wobbly to even make it the whole ten steps across the room to the window.
"Well, our particular branch has been looking after you since before you were born. When your mom's mate died, they expected her to go soon after and they were worried about an abandoned baby out on the streets. They only had your mother’s records because she disappeared before a blood test was done to prove pregnancy.”
“Wait, this doesn’t make sense. My mom had a soul mate? Why was my mom even accountable to the government?” The room swirls a little and I try to recall any stories from my childhood that would make sense with what I’m hearing.
“Your mom was part of pair. They volunteered just like my parents did to be part of a training program for kids. I’m assuming one of them worked in the government system and was asked to be part of the study?”
“My mom is a vet, she didn’t work for the government. My dad was FBI. A criminal psychologist.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. He would probably be proud of you following in his-”
“No, He wouldn’t. His death was caused by them, my mom despises what I’ve chosen to do.”
We stand facing off in silence. He looks stunned at my outburst. I haven’t told anyone about my father in years and I certainly never mention how my mother feels.
“What do you mean she disappeared?” I ask, leaning against a chair next to me.
“Well, we were all created through in vitro and I assume she was implanted with a fertilized egg just before your father passed away.” He looks to me to make sure I want him to continue, after a pained nod I hold his stare as he finishes the story. “Her maiden name was flagged when she visited a doctor’s office about eight and a half months later for vaccinations for you. All the bureau got out of that trip was your name. So we followed that name through your whole life. None of the paperwork had a legit address, your mom only made the mistake of letting them have the records from your birth.”
“She let them have the record? Wouldn’t the hospital already have a chart for me?” Nothing he is saying matches up with what I’ve been told my whole life. Why should I believe someone who followed me and had me kidnapped?
“She had you at home with an Abdulla, only a town over from here. So, my first mission was following the paper trail your mother gave us and to find you. I did my best and eve worked alongside my mentor agent. I would have found you, but every time I got near you, you disappeared and changed names. The name we had would show up at the hospital or an airport and we would show up prepared to get you and the paperwork would lead us to an empty house with no way to find your next stop..."
“We never moved, and just so you know, I’ve had the same doctor my whole life. So I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
“You never moved?”
“How long have you known about me?”
“Since we were kids when they paired us all together, our group of kids only had five when everyone else had six or eight. They basically made us spend our whole lives training and trying to find you. I honestly began to think you weren’t real. I thought they made you up and were testing all of us each time we had a flag for you.”
“You never found me.”
“Not until you started school, no. I tried, seasoned agents tried. We never could catch up? Maybe, because we were chasing a ghost.” I laugh at this whole thing. I’ve stumped the person whose kidnapped me but didn’t actually know anything about me or my past. Worst stalker ever? Should I worried about that or thrilled?
Today started out so normal; I did my shift as a vet tech at my mother’s veterinary office, went home and showered, dressed, drove back to school, attended my first class of my last semester and then right before class ended I was personally excused early. I wondered why, but somehow at this point I wouldn’t doubt the teacher was in cahoots with Axton.
I take small calculated steps, but the world swirls around me a little and I have to pause. Axton’s face looks pained and I feel the same way. Something is wrong, but I’m not sore like I hit the ground.
Did they drug me? I let out a loud gasp.
"Are you alright? Sit! Please?” His words aren’t really a question though. “Sit down, you're going to fall and then I’m going to have to drag your unconscious ass to a doctor and we won't finish our lovely talk.”
He crosses the room and gently slides the chair out from under my hand and flips it around for me to sit in before walking back the few steps to the window sill. The scent of his cologne feels familiar and I sway a little when I breathe in too deep and make myself light headed.
Can you just ask someone if they drugged you? Is that rude? Should I even care if it is, I mean they may have drugged me!
“Fine. Thank you. Let’s just finish this, I’m exhausted.” I take a seat and lean forward, resting my head in my hands.
“We are different, an experiment of sorts. We have been training since birth basically to be part of a team. We met each other at a relatively young age and have grown up knowing each other as just our study cohorts until high school, when they instated us as a team."
“Why didn’t they find me then, bring me in to be part of the team?” I ask without lifting my head.
“Well, other than we couldn’t find you? You probably wouldn’t have been ready, we had a college education by the end of high school. The only one who really attended a college was Hux. He got a doctorate in medicine. The rest of us just went to a Quantico type schooling after high school.”
“Why am I suddenly ready now?”
I hear light steps across the room as he paces thinking over his words. I can appreciate his pause to think. The silence lets me catch up.
“Technically, you’re not ready yet. We were told to wait until you applied to the Agency and then go through a fake interview and hire you. Bringing you into the team in an organic fashion. However, we didn’t get the luxury of doing things as planned.” His pacing stops dead in front of me and I can't help but look up at him, letting my answer roll off of my tongue.
“Vague. Very nice.” I look him dead in the eyes, letting him know how much I appreciate his not-really-an-answer answer.
“I’m sorry,
you really aren’t patient are you? This brings us back to the problem. We found you when you applied to college. Our orders were to stand down and just observe from a distance for a while. We have monitored you and your mother for the last almost six years. You didn’t use an alias when you applied here. We have known where you were since they accepted you. Congratulations on your master’s, only four months left, right?” I smell his cologne and get lost in him during his explanation. The room is starting to get dark again, I’m going to pass out again. I wouldn’t be passing out again if they drugged me? Would I?
“Stay with me freckles. Any last questions?” The term of endearment surprises me.
In more of a breath than actual speech I ask, “Did you drug me?”
He looks down at me and I push up from the chair, prepared to fight my past him if I don’t like his answer, but I push up to hard and my momentum takes over me. I’m unable to stop myself as the world around me fades to black in an almost instant. My feet are no longer on the floor, and I prepare to fall into the abyss, but I feel warm arms wrap around me. In an instant the world changes and it’s like I can suddenly breathe again.
About the Author
Maggie Lee grew up in a small southern town, with the ever so cliche, big town dreams. Spending years reading books about all over the world, she traveled a little and fell in love with another small town despite her dreams of the big city life. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a bit of her life in every story she tells. She is surrounded by a tight knit group of friends and family; spending her days writing, taking pictures with her way too expensive camera, bow fishing and complaining about early morning trips on her best friend's boat, making her husband try awful Pinterest projects, and singing as loud as she can to the radio. When she isn’t stuck in her own fictional world, she attends a small local college working on her degree in communications and English lit. Be prepared, Maggie has a bad habit of falling in love with her main characters and then secretly considering not sharing them. Her friends tell her she’s a bit of an instigator, but whether that is true or not, she proudly wears the title as she sits back and laughs at the chaos. The only thing she loves more than reading about swoon worthy men is writing them.
