HUNTED ~ STEVE ROGERS [2]

Chapter Eighteen

In real life, being hungover is not how they show it in the movies. There is no carefully created messy bun, no artfully smudged eyeliner. There is only headaches and Panadol.

Luckily, I'm not talking to myself. I can't get drunk, so therefore I didn't get hungover. Tasha and Taly, however, could and thats what happened the next morning after our Truth or Dare extravaganza. After church, they both went to bed, so I was stuck watching the kids while Robyn went shopping. Grandma Whoo was there, of course, but she didnt do much in the way of childcare, unless you called childcare screaming for the TV volume to be turned up or hitting children with her walking stick.

I had Hehu sat on my lap, and he was watching the Barbie movie the younger girls had put on. The boys, obviously, were one the PlayStation, and Mia had been spending even more time in her room than usual. I hadn't told Tasha and Taly that she knew about us, and I wasn't sure if I was going to or not.

I felt a smack on my already bruised shins and looked at Grandma next to me, knitting furiously. Knitting was not that only thing she did with those knitting needles. She was especially good at stabbing.

"So, how old were they when they recruited you?" She said, her voice gravelly. I stopped bouncing Hehu on my knee and stared at her.

"When, uh, who recruited me?" I asked hesitantly. Did she know, about us?

"The CIA, FBI, Interpol, whatever government agency snatched you up," she elaborated, not looking up from her knitting. I shifted in my seat.

"I was 23," I said, choosing to tell the truth rather than another lie.

"Oh, you're older than most, but still young," Grandma sighed. "It only gets worse from here."

"Were you, an agent?" I asked, curious about how this batty old woman knew so much, even if it was a little twisted.

"Oh no," she chuckled. "I was never good enough for that. But my mother, she was a good one. She worked for the SSR during World War II, you know. She was a beauty. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Thats probably how she captured the attention of my father. He was a Maori soldier back then," She told her family history with pride.

"She used to tell me she kissed Captain America himself! Right behind a bookshelf in the SSR headquarters. That was before she met my father, of course," she chuckled to herself, but I found it disturbing to think about the man I loved kissing Taly's great-great grandma.

Wow. Referring to Steve as the man I loved was probably the weirdest and scariest thing I had ever thought.

"But not you," I said, bouncing Hehu on my knee again. She shook her head.

"No, no, I was more of a housewife than a spy. But my son, Ari, he was strong and smart, just like my mother. It was no surprise that after he finished school he enlisted in the army, and from the army was picked up by the government." She spoke softly, with a little sadness in her voice.

"Did he ever tell you, who recruited him?" I asked quietly.

"No," she shook her head. "He never told me anything. But even simple housewives are smart," She tapped her head with one bony finger. "I knew something was up from the beginning. No boy goes from the army to working for a travel company."

"How did he manage having a family and being a spy, without letting anything on?" I asked, thinking out loud. Grandma sighed.

"That's why he was so good, I suppose. He had a wife and seven children, and never once did they ever suspect a thing. He had a voice like honey, Robyn once said. He could say anything, and she would believe him." Grandma looked down at her knitting.

"I didn't think it was possible, to live two lives at once," I muttered. Oh, it was possible. I lived two lives almost every day, and sometimes, I had to live three.

"Oh, its possible. Just very difficult. And if you get found out, well, you had better be sure they love you enough to forgive you," Grandma said, looking me in the eyes. "Why, is there someone out there you fancy? I know you and the brunette aren't really together," Grandma said matter of factly. I cleared my throat.

"Um, no, no not really," I said, looking at Hehu and not at Grandma. She pursed her thin lips.

"Now, theres a lie if I ever heard one. Whats his name?"

"Steve. His name is Steve," I said, once again choosing a small truth over another lie. Grandma smiled and continued knitting without looking down.

"Steve huh. And do you love him?" Grandma said slyly.

I felt that warm feeling rise in my stomach, and the tips of my ears burned red.

"Yes. I do. I love him."

"And does he know, about your other life?"

"He knows, some things. Not everything," I said quietly. Grandma pondered this.

"Then tell him. You can't pine after someone in a job like yours. You don't know if you'll be alive tomorrow. You better tell him while you can," She said firmly, placing a shaky hand on my arm. I shook my head.

"I, I cant." I felt my voice crack, but I refused to give in. I wasn't a crier. That wasn't me.

"And why the hell not?" Grandma exclaimed. I shook my head.

"I've done things. Unspeakable things and he doesn't know how much I hate myself for it. If he knew, how many lies I had told, he would never forgive me. He would hate me, and rightly so." My hands trembled, and I wrapped them around Hehu to stop it. Grandma looked at me, those old eyes, framed with big purple glasses staring right into my soul.

"If he cares about you, he will forgive you. Its what family does," She said kindly, patting my arm. I looked at the ground.

I thought about Sam's words on the bridge, the day of the fall of SHIELD.

He's not the kind you save. He's the kind you stop.

"I'm not the kind you save, Grandma. I'm the kind you stop."