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( CHAPTER FOUR )
ARDEN INSISTED THEY FIND ANOTHER PLACE TO SPEND THE NIGHT and leave the road trip for the next morning, so they ended up in another plain, unassuming motel somewhere near Cincinnati. They had come a long way, she noted: her safe house in the woods of Maryland seemed like a distant memory after two days on the road. She realized they had spent almost eight hours confined in the seats of her pickup truck, together, but had barely spoken to each other. Not that she expected an assassin to be much of a talker.
However... things weren't adding up. That first day in her house, he had looked bothered as much as she had with the knowledge that those men were coming, and it was clear they were there for him, given the timing of the attack. She couldn't be one hundred percent sure it was HYDRA, but it was very likely. So why escape, why run away from the same men that had given him the arm, who could have fixed it for him instead of her? To come looking for help at a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent's doorstep seemed beyond her comprehension.
That day too, with the van coming at them. He said he recognized those men, but had shot them both in the head, no hesitation whatsoever. He was on the run from his own people and Arden couldn't make sense of it. She felt the starting of a headache pinch at her temples and squeezed her eyes shut as they entered their rented room.
He had told her himself that he didn't want the arm. He looked bone-tired and Arden had caught the haunted look in his eyes more times than she could count in the last two days. For all the stories she had heard about him, his terrifying reputation, he hadn't harmed her, nor threatened. Arden knew she hadn't given him a reason to, had tried not to stir up any trouble, but for a feared assassin he had been way to accommodating. She wasn't well-educated in Evil Spy Etiquette 101, but Arden had a hard time reconciling the big, bad soldier with the man she had spent the last days with. It was wishful thinking on her part and she knew better than to empathize with a killer, she berated herself, but the Soldier... James— he looked lost. Like he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. Like he had lost his purpose.
Arden settled on her bed and stared down at the Soldier, James. His name was still somehow foreign to her. He noticed and returned her gaze with that blank expression of his.
"I've asked you this already but you've never answered—"
"Why I didn't go back to HYDRA."
James was facing her, back resting on the wall behind him. His knees almost touched the edge of her mattress. He looked like he didn't want to reply, a faraway look on his face. She waited in tense silence, eager in the way she moved her fingers along the fabric of her pants and tilted her head. Her hair fell to the side leaving the skin of her neck exposed, and his eyes followed the dip of her collarbone.
