Why me

]thermohb

Lyric felt a surge of fear and confusion as the kickboxer dragged her into his car. She tried to struggle, but he was too strong and fast. He threw her in the back seat and slammed the door shut. He got in the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Lyric demanded, her voice trembling.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," the kickboxer said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. He had short blond hair, blue eyes, and a muscular build. He wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and boots. He looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties. "I just saved your life, remember?"

"Saved my life? You killed that guy!" Lyric exclaimed, pointing at the alley where the drug dealer's body lay.

"He deserved it. He was a scumbag who preyed on innocent people like you. He was also part of a bigger problem that I'm trying to solve," the kickboxer said, driving away from the scene.

"What problem? What are you talking about?" Lyric asked, feeling more curious than scared.

"I can't tell you right now. It's too dangerous. But I will, soon. Trust me, you're better off with me than with him," the kickboxer said, sounding sincere.

"Where are you taking me?" Lyric asked, looking out the window. She saw the familiar sights of Boston's streets, but she had no idea where they were heading.

"To a safe place. A place where you can start over. A place where you can make a difference," the kickboxer said, smiling.

"A difference? How?" Lyric asked, feeling a flicker of hope.

"By joining me. By helping me. By becoming part of something bigger than yourself," the kickboxer said, his voice passionate.

"Joining you? Helping you? Becoming part of what?" Lyric asked, feeling intrigued.

The kickboxer reached into his jacket and pulled out a badge. He showed it to Lyric.

"By becoming part of the FBI," he said.

Lyric gasped. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The kickboxer was an FBI agent. He was undercover. He was on a mission. And he wanted her to join him.

"What? You're an FBI agent? Why?" Lyric asked, stunned.

"Because I'm trying to stop a terrorist organization that's planning to attack the city. They're using the drug trade as a cover. They're the ones who killed your mother and father. They're the ones who ruined your life. And they're the ones who need to pay," the kickboxer said, his voice filled with anger and determination.

Lyric felt a wave of shock and disbelief. She couldn't process what he was saying. A terrorist organization? Her parents' killers? Her life's ruiners? How was this possible? How was this real?

"Are you serious? Are you telling me the truth?" Lyric asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes, I am. I swear. I have proof. I have evidence. I have a plan. And I need your help. You're the only one who can help me. You're the only one who knows the inside of the drug network. You're the only one who can infiltrate it. You're the only one who can stop them," the kickboxer said, his voice urgent.

Lyric felt a mix of emotions. She felt anger, sadness, fear, and doubt. But she also felt curiosity, excitement, and courage. She felt a spark of something she hadn't felt in a long time. She felt a sense of purpose. She felt a chance to change her destiny.

She looked at the kickboxer. She looked at his badge. She looked at his eyes. She saw honesty, sincerity, and hope. She saw a chance to trust someone. She saw a chance to make a difference. She saw a chance to avenge her parents. She saw a chance to start over.

She made a decision.

"Okay. I'll help you. I'll join you. I'll become part of the FBI," she said.

The kickboxer smiled. He reached out his hand and shook hers.

"Welcome to the team, Lyric. I'm Agent Carter. And we have a lot of work to do," he said.

The car sped away, leaving behind the past and heading towards the future.