Agent Rogue

Chapter 9

Wordless and uncomfortable, we made it back to the cabin without another incident. I slumped straight into the velvet, wine seat, sinking into the cushion, enjoying the warmth of something that wasn't a person. Barnes closed the door and leaned against it, tapping his foot.

            "How long's left of this train journey, anyway?" he asked.
I failed at masking the anguish in my tone. "Seven hours," I said.
Barnes groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Perfect," he sighed.

            'Perfect' indeed. Seven more hours of unpleasant silence with Barnes in a single boxy room. What could have been better than that?

            He eyed up the long stretch of velvet. "We might as well get comfortable."

            He swung backwards, falling into the cushions beside me. I shifted to the side in an instant.

            "What are you doing?" I asked.
"What I said: getting comfortable," he explained as though it was obvious. This was not the comfort I was content with.

            Exhaling in frustration, I put my hand on the seat to shuffle to one side. As though silently replying, Barnes leaned his head against the darkened train window, putting his feet up on the seat – across my lap.

            I flinched and shoved his legs away.

            "What?" He gawped at me.
"There's a perfectly good seat over there," I snapped, emphasising the gesture I directed at the seat opposite us.
"Really?" said Barnes, raising his eyebrows, acting oblivious. "Good. You should go sit there."
I scoffed. "Me? I was here first."
"Good for you. I'm here now."

            He tried dazzling me with a smile as he leaned back to rest his legs, eyes fluttering closed. I was having none of it. With a scowl, I threw them off me again.

            Barnes growled. "Can you not?" he snapped, forcing his legs over me again.
"Can you not?" I retorted, more vicious in throwing them away. His feet hit the floor with a thud and Barnes glared at me. "If you want to put your feet up," I hissed, "go sit over there."
"But I want to sit here." He pouted.
"Why? What's so special about sitting here?"
He shrugged. "Because you want to sit here."

            Barnes draped his feet over my lap again, the right side of his mouth stretching to a smirk. This was why I didn't want my boundaries to be crossed. He now thought he had the right to do things such as this.

            I sighed – he believed that I had given up. However, I felt something in the left pocket of my coat; something that made my lips curl into a cruel smile.

            "What?" he asked, fearful. "What are you smiling at?"

            I slipped my hand into my pocket and brandished the taser in the light of the hanging wall lamp.

            "How would you feel about—?"

            He leapt from the seat and smacked against the floor, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself on the opposite sofa.

            "I've gone! I've gone!"

            My smile grew and I put the taser back, making myself comfortable. When I adjusted my position, hands pressed into the velvet, I looked up. Barnes was studying me with intent eyes.

            "You're a unique one, Miss Knight," he said.
I leaned back in my seat, peering at him through my lashes, letting out a laugh. "I could say the same thing about you, Barnes."

            I shuffled towards the arm of the chair and rested my chin on a closed fist, taking small pleasure in the crisp air creeping through the gaps in the glass. Although I looked out onto the silhouettes of the French countryside doused in rain, I could see the Barnes's tight-lipped smile from the corner of my eye, which faded as the feeling of joy he held onto wore off.