Read Online Color Me Grey: Book One of the Alexis Stanton Chronicles by J.C. Phelps - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J.C. Phelps
Tags: Chick lit, adventure, Contemporary, Action & Adventure, Action, ChickLit, Shades of Grey, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction, contemporary thriller, Womens, womens fiction chicklit, womens commercial fiction, Women spies, womens lit, womens literature, color me grey, contemporary fiction adventure, isbn 9780981769004, jc phelps, reflections of grey, women love, women snipers, women stories, women writers, womens stories
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turn it off. I looked at the time. It was 5:09
AM.
I suppose I should get up, I thought. I went
to the bedroom door to make sure it was shut tight. I took off my
clothes and inspected my shoulder. I had put off looking at it
because I was afraid of what I might see. The bone could be showing
and then I’d have to go get it taken care of. It was swollen and
the bruise looked like the fist that hit me. I was satisfied I
wasn’t going to die so I started to get dressed.
My shoulder ached. My neck ached. My mind
ached. Getting dressed was a chore but I managed to get on jeans
and a t-shirt. Putting on my socks and shoes was a bit harder.
I had lain in bed awake for a long time last
night thinking. I couldn’t seem to get things straightened out.
I wanted to be excited for today. I wanted my
normal cockiness to return. I just wanted to be able to walk around
holding the world in my fist again. Invading the privacy of my home
really put a crimp in my style. The events of the past couple days
had me whirling. The world was not at all what it had been. I had
been queen of the roost before, but now I was just a person being
spied on, followed and left in the dark about everything.
I had thought I was so smart. Granted, I
still knew more than the normal person walking the street about
computers, dancing and military maneuvers but I wasn’t sure how
much good it was doing me. Sure I was bored with being a data
processor but I wasn’t sure I wanted to live a life where people
could be watching me at any time. I was pretty good at acting cool
when other people were around, but I was human after all. Once in a
while I might feel the need to pick my nose or pass gas. I could no
longer do these things without the whole world knowing that I did
it.
All right, get yourself out of this funk, I
told myself. I opened the bedroom door and went straight to the
bathroom and shut the door. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and
pulled my hair back into a braid. I didn’t know what was on the
agenda for the day, so better to be safe than sorry with the hair.
Braids were always good. They looked nice but kept my hair out of
the way. I thought my braid helped me look a little like Lara Croft
from the “Tomb Raider” video games.
I was an avid video game player and wasted
many hours in front of the computer or TV killing things and
finding treasures. Lara Croft was one of my favorites. She had that
accent. I had tried but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t care for
Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft, her lips were too big, but
considering what Hollywood had to offer, she had been the best
choice by far. She could play the tough part and still be sexy. The
only person who could have played Lara better would have been Lara
herself. I longed to be just like Lara, accent and all.
I stood in the bathroom and debated on
whether or not to call a cab to take me downtown. I finally opted
in favor of the cab. I walked out to the living room, picked up the
phone and called. I went back into the bathroom and shut the door.
I put the lid down on the toilet and sat there waiting for the cab
service to show.
Within ten minutes I heard a honk. I stepped
quickly from the bathroom to the front door. I looked out and saw a
primered black 1970 Plymouth Barracuda in my driveway. I looked
closer and saw that it was Mr. Blue in the driver’s seat. Imagine
that. I suppose someone overheard me call the cab company and sent
Mr. Blue instead.
I stepped outside and walked to the car. I
let myself in the passenger’s door and said, “Good morning, Mr.
Blue.”
“ Good morning, Ms. Stanton. How’s the
shoulder today?” he replied.
“ It’s been better, but I’ll live,” I
said.
Mr. Blue had light brown hair that was cut
short in the back but his bangs fell into his eyes. His eyes were
ice blue and had a hard quality, as did his face. He was
clean-shaven but his facial hair must have been coarse because you
could see the hairs wanting to poke out through their
AM.
I suppose I should get up, I thought. I went
to the bedroom door to make sure it was shut tight. I took off my
clothes and inspected my shoulder. I had put off looking at it
because I was afraid of what I might see. The bone could be showing
and then I’d have to go get it taken care of. It was swollen and
the bruise looked like the fist that hit me. I was satisfied I
wasn’t going to die so I started to get dressed.
My shoulder ached. My neck ached. My mind
ached. Getting dressed was a chore but I managed to get on jeans
and a t-shirt. Putting on my socks and shoes was a bit harder.
I had lain in bed awake for a long time last
night thinking. I couldn’t seem to get things straightened out.
I wanted to be excited for today. I wanted my
normal cockiness to return. I just wanted to be able to walk around
holding the world in my fist again. Invading the privacy of my home
really put a crimp in my style. The events of the past couple days
had me whirling. The world was not at all what it had been. I had
been queen of the roost before, but now I was just a person being
spied on, followed and left in the dark about everything.
I had thought I was so smart. Granted, I
still knew more than the normal person walking the street about
computers, dancing and military maneuvers but I wasn’t sure how
much good it was doing me. Sure I was bored with being a data
processor but I wasn’t sure I wanted to live a life where people
could be watching me at any time. I was pretty good at acting cool
when other people were around, but I was human after all. Once in a
while I might feel the need to pick my nose or pass gas. I could no
longer do these things without the whole world knowing that I did
it.
All right, get yourself out of this funk, I
told myself. I opened the bedroom door and went straight to the
bathroom and shut the door. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and
pulled my hair back into a braid. I didn’t know what was on the
agenda for the day, so better to be safe than sorry with the hair.
Braids were always good. They looked nice but kept my hair out of
the way. I thought my braid helped me look a little like Lara Croft
from the “Tomb Raider” video games.
I was an avid video game player and wasted
many hours in front of the computer or TV killing things and
finding treasures. Lara Croft was one of my favorites. She had that
accent. I had tried but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t care for
Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft, her lips were too big, but
considering what Hollywood had to offer, she had been the best
choice by far. She could play the tough part and still be sexy. The
only person who could have played Lara better would have been Lara
herself. I longed to be just like Lara, accent and all.
I stood in the bathroom and debated on
whether or not to call a cab to take me downtown. I finally opted
in favor of the cab. I walked out to the living room, picked up the
phone and called. I went back into the bathroom and shut the door.
I put the lid down on the toilet and sat there waiting for the cab
service to show.
Within ten minutes I heard a honk. I stepped
quickly from the bathroom to the front door. I looked out and saw a
primered black 1970 Plymouth Barracuda in my driveway. I looked
closer and saw that it was Mr. Blue in the driver’s seat. Imagine
that. I suppose someone overheard me call the cab company and sent
Mr. Blue instead.
I stepped outside and walked to the car. I
let myself in the passenger’s door and said, “Good morning, Mr.
Blue.”
“ Good morning, Ms. Stanton. How’s the
shoulder today?” he replied.
“ It’s been better, but I’ll live,” I
said.
Mr. Blue had light brown hair that was cut
short in the back but his bangs fell into his eyes. His eyes were
ice blue and had a hard quality, as did his face. He was
clean-shaven but his facial hair must have been coarse because you
could see the hairs wanting to poke out through their
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