Delta: A Spy Novel

Chapter Eight

 Okay. I personally really hate this chapter but it’s important so I have to put it on here. It was so much better in my mind! Ugh. But whatever, I really don’t think anyone ever reads these Author’s Notes, so I guess it doesn’t matter, now does it? But whatever. Oh. Right. The book… well, here you go.

<3 vb123321

P.S. If you think this chapter’s as poopy as I do, let me assure you, the next one will make up for it! I promise! :)

Chapter Eight

♥            Astrid         ♥

            Who knew who I was?

            The question ran through my head as I rested my head against Charlie’s unwounded shoulder, walking out of the alley. Of course, I was pretty sure I knew the answer. No one else called me “beautiful” in that mocking way, no one else knew who I was here… but it was impossible! No, it couldn’t be…

            “You all right?” Charlie’s voice interrupted my train of thought. I deliberated: should I tell him? I decided against it; he would only be angrier. I could almost feel his tension radiating off of him. Sweat ran down his back and I could feel some on mine as well. It was baking, to put it nicely.

            “I’m okay,” I replied quietly, and he offered a half smile at me.

I felt sick, not so much at the horrific death of the man but as to the thought of who was following me. But maybe I was overreacting. I shoved those thoughts out of my head as we reached the street. There seemed to be some sort of street market going on: vendors had their booths up, yelling out their prices for their merchandise.

            Many people were flocking here now: the street was crowded and hotter than ever. Charlie slipped his arm off my shoulder and held my hand tightly as we moved through the crowd, hissing in my ear, “Be careful, there might be more of them.”

            I nodded wordlessly, glancing around. We were attracting quite a few stares, with my bloody face and Charlie’s arm. He was walking straight, his face set, but I could tell it was hurting him by the way he held it tensely at his side. I was worried that the wound was a lot worse than he said it was, but I didn’t want to argue with him about it.

            I tried to wipe away more of the blood with my sleeve, but all I accomplished was getting a dirty shirt and making myself look even rattier. I was feeling unspeakably weary all of a sudden, and dropped Charlie’s hand to push stray hairs out of my face. He stopped, looking back at me. “You sure you’re all right?” he asked, looking concerned. I nodded again, and he grabbed me by the shoulders.

            “Astrid – listen to me,” he said urgently, his grey eyes so intense that I couldn’t look away. “You need to get over this – I’ve never seen you like this – I–” He hesitated. “What’s the matter? What is it about this whole mess that’s bothering you?”

            I couldn’t speak. How could I tell him? Shoot, it was hard enough to admit to myself. He shook me harder. “Astrid – OW!”