The Recruit Read online

  “He’s an FBI agent, Becca,” whispered Coleen to avoid anyone else from overhearing, “and you’re a dance teacher. You have nothing in common.”

  “We get along fine,” Rebecca said in a similar hushed tone.

  Coleen stopped talking as the girls from the five o’clock class started their way inside, more from curiosity than necessity.

  They both stared at the sixteen-year-olds in silence, making the atmosphere more uncomfortable than it already was. When the girls started to stretch at the barre, Rebecca turned to look at Coleen in disappointment. “I should start the class.”

  Coleen must’ve known she had lost the battle. Without saying another word, she rolled her eyes and left for home.

  The apartment was beautiful and modern, but it felt quiet and lonely. It made Rebecca wonder where Dylan spent his nights and whether they would spend any of them together; she absolutely needed him by her side. If everything went according to plan, they would start working together soon and that would mean more time for them to talk and become more intimate with one another. At last they had something real in common now. When she had agreed to become like him, she had opened a million opportunities for both. They had become more than two people who needed a companion.

  Tucked in her new bed, Rebecca's thoughts of Dylan shifted to expecting the change that was still not complete inside her. In a few hours, her body would finish changing because of the modifications her DNA had gone through. It was scary to think of these changes. If they had to happen, she rather they didn’t happen that night, not while she was in an unfamiliar room all alone.

  No, Dylan had said it would take a few more hours. He had reassured her he would be there with her when it happened. He had gone through this experience before. At some point in his life he had stopped being human, he'd stopped aging. He was her most reliable source of information.

  It was still difficult to sleep. The new sheets and mattress weren't helping. The place still lacked the warmth from her room back home, its tranquility and comfort. It would take time for this new place to become hers, to become a place she enjoyed as she had enjoyed her old life. She was sure she would learn to live there; it would just take some time.

  If only Coleen could see her now. There was a reason she hadn’t told her anything when she decided to leave; a reason she had disappeared without a trace. Anything was better than facing her best friend with an explanation. She would have fought her to the end, to get her to stay. She would have warned her of the danger ahead, and cursed everything Dylan was to her.

  Yes, Coleen would hate her when she realized she had taken off, but it wouldn’t be a fraction of how upset she would have been if she knew the truth.

  It was useless to worry. The deed was done; she was gone, and there was no going back to how things used to be.

  She closed her eyes and waited for as long as it took to fall asleep.

  It was until spring came that she finally invited Dylan Torrence into her home; that day was life-changing.

  They had been seeing each other frequently for about eight months and Rebecca was finding their time apart more difficult to bear than she liked. No one else could give her what Dylan offered, which was what made their time apart even harder. The secretive and mysterious Dylan was interesting and easy to talk to. The man she now called her boyfriend was sarcastic, witty, and funny. More importantly, he felt alive to her; with his fresh yet simple view of the world he had turned out to be the best person to disagree with. Even more valuable than that, he never got offended by anything she said. He was different - just like she was - in a way that was hard to explain.

  It hadn’t taken her long to realize Dylan brought more into her life than anyone she’d ever met and she found she couldn’t live without him. She had grown to need him.

  Was that love? Probably. Whatever it was, it was worth keeping and she could only hope he felt the same way. Although, he had never shown any interest in anything more than just spending time together, which was odd.

  Their relationship changed after an unusual call. The last few months had been busy for Dylan at work and they had only seen each other sporadically, which was why it caught her by surprise when she heard from him only a few days after their last date. The call itself had differed from the others, it had sounded too awkward, which made Rebecca grow a sense of dread, as if everything she had come to believe had been an illusion. Had their relationship failed without her realizing it?

  When Dylan finally showed up at her front door, he had abandoned his jeans and polo shirts, and instead he wore the formal dark suit and tie, making him look more like the Federal agent he was. Rebecca could tell he had prepared for this moment - his shoes impeccable, his hair perfect, and his eyes covered by the darkest sunglasses she had ever seen. He looked like one of the Men in Black, those secret agents who made sure there were no traces of alien life left for humans to find.

  He looked intimidating.

  Rebecca had gotten so used to socializing with another part of him, a kinder persona that seemed to be absent from the man who stood before her.

  Dylan’s façade fell apart once he took one look at her. With a crooked smile, he revealed the bottle of red wine and a bouquet of yellow roses he'd been hiding behind his back. With that offering, Rebecca had no choice but to invite him into her private space. Taking the flowers happily she watched him cross the threshold and into her home. They were entering unfamiliar territory.

  Rebecca was lightheaded with uncertainty as Dylan strolled past the kitchen and into the living room. Had the day finally come when he would reveal how he felt? Never before had he explicitly said anything about his feeling towards her.

  Dylan took his sunglasses off when he reached the fireplace mantel. His eyes examining everything on display, his attention absorbed by the story each framed picture told. Rebecca couldn't remember anyone, besides Coleen, ever entering her house since her grandmother had passed away after she had come back from New York City.

  She was quiet behind him, they could hear only the wood cracking under Dylan’s feet as he walked studying one picture after the other. She wondered what he was learning by looking at her life through those pictures. Most were of her, dancing at several stages of her life, some she shared with her best friend, Coleen, but a few showed her grandmother, and one... one showed her parents.

  She wondered what her family would have thought of Dylan. Her Nana would surely aim to scare him away with insults, parading the list of flaws she saw in Rebecca to humiliate her. She doubted Dylan would be affected by her bitterness, a thought that pleased her.

  And what about her parents? Would her dad approve of a man in such a dangerous profession? Would her mom think he was just as handsome as Rebecca saw him? Would they become friends with him or would they keep their distance at Dylan's quiet disposition? She would never know.

  Dylan stopped in front of her parents, gathered his breath and asked, “This is them? Your parents?” He took the frame from its permanent position on the mantel.

  “Yes,” she answered. “One of the few pictures I have left of them.”

  He studied the image closer. “You're right, they look like a unique couple.”

  Everyone could see the tall blond man next to the petite Asian didn’t look like they were made for each, Dylan was no exception. “Well, my mom was an exchange student from China and dad was American with German ancestors. They met at the university and then… well, then there was me.”

  "You're right, you got your mother’s eyes," he nodded, remembering something they had spoken about before. He turned to look at her. "Is this why you keep your hair short, like you mother in this picture?" She unconsciously touched the tip of her hair. It didn't even reach her shoulders.

  "I don't know. I've never thought of that." Rebecca tried to shift the attention back to him, "Now that you know my parents, perhaps one day I will know more about yours. Do you have pictures?"

  “No. I don't have any pictures,” he
answered with no expression, almost as if the mention of his parents brought something more than grief.

  Rebecca pretended she hadn’t minded his tone. She was curious to know what had happened between Dylan and his family. He never seemed to want to talk about them and it upset him every time she brought up the subject.

  “I'm fortunate to have something to remembered them by,” she declared. “I was three when they died. If not for these pictures, I wouldn’t remember them at all.”

  “You’re lucky,” he told her and meant it. Carefully, he returned the frame to the mantel.

  Rebecca couldn't help herself; seeing him so vulnerable made her want to know more. "What happened with you and your family?"

  Dylan turned around, confusion in his face. With a smile, he forgot about the pictures, walking to the sofa instead. Looking at the wine on the coffee table, he said, "It's not important. They died too long ago." Then, "Maybe we should open the wine to liven the mood? It is the first time you let me in," he mused. "I want this day to be special."

  “Special? Then by all means lets open the wine.” She smiled at the promise of more. Heading to the kitchen, she took a wine opener from the drawer. From the cupboard, she took two glasses out - the only ones she owned. Walking back to Dylan waiting in the living room, she sat down next to him in the old flower-pattered sofa.

  With ease, Dylan opened the bottle and poured it in the glasses Rebecca had set on the coffee table.

  Her leg touched his as she reached for her glass filled with the Merlot Dylan had brought with him. It tasted sweet and filled with anticipation.

  Dylan drank a little himself before returning the glass to the table. Rebecca noticed his body tense beside her as he readied himself to deliver his message. “How do you feel about children, Becca?”

  The wine almost came spraying out of her mouth. This was definitely not where she thought this was heading. Where had that question come from? What did it mean? Did it need a specific answer? Was her answer fundamental to the continuation of their relationship?

  If what he wanted were children, then he was in for a surprise. Since the beginning, she had feared this moment. For months she had wanted to just it, find out if it would be a deal breaker. Yet when she began to fall for him she delayed the revelation as long as she could. Until now.

  Rebecca considered lying to him. Perhaps it was better if they just found out together. What were the chances he would find out it had happened since that car accident when she was only a child?

  She reconsidered. Dylan was a government agent. He'd know.

  “What an odd question… I-” she stuttered.

  Dylan smiled, seeming to understand that he had gone too far. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

  Nodding in understanding, she said, “It’s a strange question to ask, don't you think? I don’t understand where it’s coming from.” She stared at him, finding no answers. “Is it because you feel strongly about having children?” Her voice reflected her frustration; almost as if she wanted to see how much he cared about her. “Well, do you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Why do you ask, then?”

  Dylan stared at his glass of wine waiting on the coffee table.

  “I ask because I need you to understand how important you are to me.”

  That answer didn’t make much sense. “Well, you make me think you want a family, but I-”

  His face became so serious, he almost looked like a different person. "I don't want a family. I only want you."

  Rebecca didn't seem to have understood what he'd just said. “After the accident - the car accident, when I was a child, I was badly hurt and I-”

  He stopped her by placing one hand on her lap, “You can’t have children.”

  The statement coming from his lips startled her. How long had he known? She wasn't even sure how she felt about this invasion of privacy. No one else knew she had lost her ability to have children since she had been three years old. No one. Not even Coleen. Much less Coleen's father! If Dylan knew, then it meant he had been snooping around her personal files. What right did he have?

  And yet, what good would come from an accusation? At least he was still by her side knowing she would never be able to produce a family for them. "You’re right. I can’t." Tears threatened to come out. "When my parents died, I was in the car with them and… and I was hurt. I almost didn't make it to the hospital. They did what they needed to do to save my life." She looked into his eyes. "I have never told this to anyone."

  "I, uhm, I didn't mean..." stammered Dylan.

  "I just wish I knew why I'm so interesting to you. So much you felt you needed to know everything about me behind my back."

  He lowered his head, guilt coming out of his every pore. "I'm sorry I read your file. I just..."

  “What is it?"

  "I just really care about you. I didn't mean to- I just... I wanted to make sure I could trust you."

  "You didn't need to open an investigation about my life, Dylan. I would have told you."

  Nodding rapidly, he agreed. Taking her hand in a tight grip, he slid closer to her on the sofa. "You're right. I should have asked."

  The tears were rolling down her cheeks, but Rebecca wasn't crying. "Now you owe me. Now you tell me something about you. Something personal. Something that means a lot to you."

  For a while, Dylan stared at her brown eyes. "That's why I'm here."

  Her eyes opened wide. "You are?"

  Sighing, Dylan began to speak. "Listen, Becca. I’m different, and when I say different, I mean… really different." A slight smile touched his lips; Rebecca didn’t move an inch. He continued, "I think you are the part I’ve been missing. Like I found the last piece of the puzzle. This is why I've been so insistent in making this relationship work. I want to get this right. Believe me when I say I may lose you once you learn the truth about me, but I have to take that risk. It’s time.“

  "Lose me? No, I-"

  He stopped her. "I want... I want for us to be together; something beyond what you can imagine. To make it happen, I will ask a very delicate question. The answer I would love to hear won't be easy for you, but know I'm willing to do whatever I can to make you see it will bring a better future. Do you understand?"

  “You’re scaring me, Dylan.” These intriguing words were confusing. “Are you married?” she asked him in her attempt to make sense of it all.

  She had asked that question before, and here she was asking it again. It was clear he was trying to suppress a smile. Too bad she didn't find any of this funny. “No, I’m not married.”

  “Are you dying?”

  “Definitely not,” he replied.

  “You don’t want my kidney or something, do you?”

  “No. I don’t need any of your organs.”

  “Is this because there’s something wrong with me?”

  He neglected to answer that question. Instead, he said: “Like I said, it’s about our future.”

  Rebecca stood up and moved away from him. Leaving him sitting by himself. “Our future?”

  “Yes, only it’s not what you think.” He sounded desperate; he stood up to follow her, yet all he did was scare her enough to force her to give a step back.

  “It's not what I think? When you came here with flowers and wine, I thought qw would talk about marriage. I hoped you had decided we'd get to spend the rest of our lives together. What I'm hearing is more mystery, more riddles. This time, I don't know what to think. I'm not even sure how you feel about me.”

  “Becca, please. I'm trying to explain, I-”

  “I know, I know,” she said. “So you have this big secret, I get that. Is it you're actually a woman or something?”

  “What?” He looked so baffled she knew the answer to the question without having to hear it. “No, I’m not.”

  Rebecca stared at him not knowing what she was supposed to do or think. “Why don't you just tell me? I'll be able to handle whatever it is. I also want us to work. But
you need to tell me.”

  Hesitant, he sighed. “Before I do, I need you to understand how complicated this is. How important this moment is.”

  “Unless you're dying or from outer space, I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this.”

  He sat back down on the sofa. "You're right," he told her. "The truth is…" The words failed him again. "You’d be surprised."

  “Well, surprise me!” She needed answers.

  Dylan was deadly quiet for a moment, so much she feared he would just walk out and leave, ending it all right then. Instead of speaking, he took his jacket off, the tie followed. Rebecca had no idea what he was doing.

  "All right," he began. "You have to know I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks, but every time I see you I chicken out. Not tonight. Not tonight," he repeated to himself. "I came here for a reason and I will not leave until you know what I am."

  “I trust you. A lot of who you are is still a mystery to me, but I trust you. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm ready.”

  He exhaled. “Well, then… I guess you will hear what I have to say and we’ll let the chips fall where they may.”

  Panic. What if she really couldn’t handle it?

  “All right, what is it?” She swallowed her doubt as she prepared to listen.

  “Okay,” Dylan cleared his throat as he thought on the right words.

  “I’ll understand. Really, I will,” she reassured him.

  He let out a soft chuckle, “I hope you do.”

  “I will,” she repeated.

  After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath and began:

  “All right, let’s see,” he said, “you know how I just came in from outside, right? And the sun is still shinning and I’m fine? I didn’t burst into flames?”

  What in the world was he talking about? “Uhm, yes.”

  “And, how every time we see each other we go out and I eat something.”

  “Right. You eat a lot, actually.”