Hello, y’all. So glad I’m updating. I really like the first half of this chapter…the rest annoys me. I couldn’t get it right…anyway. So yeah, hopefully this clears some stuff up if you’re completely lost – which I hope you’re not. Oh, and just to let you know – I have a new rule: I have to finish the following chapter before I update. For instance, I couldn’t update THIS chapter until I finished writing Chapter 26. You’re gonna complain, I know, but think about it. You’re not actually waiting longer. Because you JUST got Chapter 24. So yeah. That’s my rule. I’m so much more organized in uploading now! It’s great.
Gracias! <3 vb123321
Chapter Twenty-Five
♦ Charlie ♦
Blood.
Sticky and wet, I could feel it congealing on my forehead even though my eyes were closed. Its taste filled my mouth, the iron in it tingling on my tongue as I slowly became conscious once more. I swallowed, tasted blood, and then realized that my hands were numb. My feet felt miles away and there was a burning pain through my ribs, sending sparks up my spine.
And the blood.
My eyes opened gradually, and as my vision began to return, I looked groggily around the room. Just as I had thought: I was bound tightly, the ropes digging into my wrists, calves, and ankles. A moan escaped my lips involuntarily as a searing pain shot through my forehead. The blood was trickling down my cheek now, and, reaching out with my tongue slightly, I could taste it as well.
As far as I could tell, I was alone. The walls surrounding me were so white that they hurt my eyes, and there were no windows to be seen. As I lifted my head in an attempt to look around, something collided with it, sending pain through my entire body. Another moan came from my lips as my head flopped to the left, carried there by the fresh wave of pain that came with the blow of the back of someone’s hand.
Three words: “Ele está acordado.”
Portuguese. He is awake. Hoping that another blow wouldn’t come, I raised my head once more and found myself staring into a pair of jet black eyes framed by bushy dark eyebrows. I blinked, struggling to focus as the eyes swam in front of me. Another man was talking from the left, and a short laugh was uttered in my ear.
“Como ele está?” came the voice from my left. How is he?
I tried turning my head to look at the speaker, but the man in front of me placed his hands on the sides of my head and wrenched it back to face him. The taste of blood in my mouth grew stronger as I bit down hard on my lip to keep from screaming at the fresh wave of agony that washed over me at the man’s brutal touch.
A sardonic smile twisted over the man’s swarthy face. “Este é umforte,” he commented, raising an eyebrow. I glowered at him in hatred as spots danced before my eyes. I’d show him just how strong I was – if only I could get out of these stupid ropes that were binding me.
The Portuguese looked at me, dark eyes narrowing as he took in my face. I looked at his at the same time: the high-planed, Hispanic-looking features, dark bushy eyebrows, steely black eyes. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five, and the thought made my stomach curdle; he was that young and already was corrupted. I wanted to close my eyes from the pain in his grip of my head, but I stared determinedly into the black eyes.
“So,” the man said in English after a long moment. “What are we going to do with you?”
I kept my mouth shut, the taste of blood still tingling on my tongue. Staring blackly at the Portuguese man, I thought of all the crap I would love to throw his way, and tried not to think about what I couldn’t do at the moment. I had to get out of there somehow – get to Jay and throttle him – and then find Astrid...
Astrid.
My heart almost stopped beating. How had I forgotten about her? Almost without thinking, I wrenched my head out of the Portuguese’s grasp, looking around the room wildly. This motion caused my head to spin, black dots dancing across my vision, and I shut my eyes hard to control it. The man in front of me angrily shouted something in Portuguese that I couldn’t catch, and then slammed a hefty hand against the side of my head.
My vision went completely black, and I felt that sensation of tipping as the chair began to topple over – and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor with my head against the ground and a rigorous pain rocketing through my entire right side. Opening my eyes, I looked up hazily at the Portuguese, who was standing in front of me. Only a pair of bulky leather hiking boots was obvious to my eyes. I tried to look around the room again, but the man placed a boot in front of my eyes to block my vision.
I spat at the boot, and the Portuguese swore loudly in his native language, drawing back his boot and kicking me in the ribs. My body tried to crumple, but the ropes that were binding me were too tight for it to move. I almost bit through my tongue trying not to cry out as fresh agony flooded over me from his kick. And now my vision was blocked by his boot, so I couldn’t see where I was.
But I’d seen enough to know what I’d been wondering: Jay had left the room, most likely when I’d been unconscious. Through the pain that was slicing through my mind, I managed to put the puzzle pieces together, and came up with a solution that I didn’t like.
Jay had Astrid.
And Pierre, of course, but that didn’t particularly bother me. At least, not as much as the thought of Jay having Astrid did. I closed my eyes, letting the agony travel through me and trying to ignore the Portuguese man in front of me as I tried to sort out my thoughts. So Astrid and Pierre were in the manor. It sounded like Josh had managed to get away – that was hopeful.
But Astrid…
I swore bitterly to myself. Why did I have to be so stupid, just waltzing into Decrioux’s manor without a second thought? Pierre was right; I did mess things up. Now we were all in the hands of Jay, and therefore Decrioux. If only I had thought first…And Astrid had, of course, felt obliged to listen to whatever Jay told her. So now she was stuck in this place as well.
Because of me.
I glared up at the Portuguese, struggling to keep my eyes open. The effort of moving my head only slightly hurt like hell, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I breathed as calmly as I could, trying to calm my racing heart, and looked the man right in the eye.
He studied my face for a long moment, the corner of his mouth twisting into a smirk. I met the dark eyes as coolly as I could, not showing any of the fear that was racing through me. Then again, the fear wasn’t for me – it was for Astrid.
“What do you want?” I snapped finally, unable to take his piercing stare for any longer.
A chuckle escaped his mouth, and then, in a swift, sudden move, the Portuguese grabbed the back of my chair, pulling it upwards. The legs of the chair crashed against the floor, and my head lolled to one side with the momentum.
By this point, I couldn’t feel my hands at all, and my legs were starting to fall asleep as well. I looked dizzily at the man in front of me, trying to push away the nauseous feeling in my head. The Portuguese leered at me, looking sadistically amused, his dark eyebrows pushed up in his high-planed face. He looked at me like he was going to start hitting me again, and I braced myself for impact, but at that moment, the man near the door called over:
“Finn.”
The man in front of me turned sharply, and though I couldn’t see what was going on, the guard at the door was seemingly gesturing him over. The man – Finn, he’d been called – looked back at me, an ugly scowl slipping over his face.
“Don’t you try anything,” he snarled in my direction, his voice low and coarse and heavily accented.
I turned my head slightly, spitting blood out onto the floor, and then glowered at the Portuguese with such intense hatred that I was surprised he didn’t react. I knew that I shouldn’t speak to him, for I’d probably only provoke him further, but I couldn’t help the words that escaped my mouth:
“And what am I supposed to be able to do?”
Finn gave me an ugly look, his mouth twisting in a sneer as he answered, “You are a little…preoccupied.”
Before I could open my mouth to reply, he slammed his hand against the side of my head again, tipping the chair dangerously. It remained on its feet, however, and I rode through the pain, blinking quickly to try and keep my vision as black washed over my eyes.
This guy had some serious anger management problems.
“Finn!” the guard from the door barked again, and the Portuguese turned away from me, stalking to the door. I swore in his direction, a single filthy word, but he didn’t react, merely walking over to the guard. I twisted my head excruciatingly in their direction, trying to see what was going on.
Someone had joined the two men, and all three were talking in low, guttural Portuguese. I strained my ears, fighting the fatigue and agony that threatened to inundate me. The men were speaking in a different dialect of Portuguese, something from their home village that I couldn’t understand fully, and I found myself wishing that Astrid, with her amazing skill for languages, was there. I could pick up bits and pieces of their conversation, though, and knew enough Portuguese to know that they were talking about me.
“…nós somos supostospara trazê-lopara ...”
They were supposed to bring me where? An execution squad?
“...a menina...”
I felt my heart speed up momentarily. The girl? Did they mean Astrid? Of course they did...who else could it be – Decrioux’s wife?
“...agora?”
It took me a moment to realize that all three of them were looking back at me at that point. I averted my eyes rapidly, lowering my head in an effort to look pained – which wasn’t difficult – and humble – which was a lot easier said than done. My mind was racing. What were they planning to do with us? I just had to get to Astrid and make sure she was all right…that Jay hadn’t done anything to her…
There was a rap at the door, and then the devil himself stepped into the room. I turned my head too quickly, sending a fresh wave of pain jolting through me, but I couldn’t help staring.
It was Jay.
His sky blue eyes met mine even as he was directing the guards in their native language, contempt written across his face as he turned to me. Hatred rose in me so rapidly that the black dots began dancing across my vision again. Every muscle in my body tensed against the ropes that held me to my chair, the taste of blood in my mouth increasing as I bit my tongue to keep from yelling at him.
Holy Mother, I hated him.
I hated every fiber of him – for what he had done to Astrid, two years ago and now – for what he was doing to me – for being with Decrioux all this time…Why had he joined Decrioux anyway? That was the part I couldn’t grasp. Even though he had left Delta and everything…I never thought he would stoop that low.
Jay was speaking harshly to the Portuguese men, gesturing in my direction, and after a moment, Finn came my way, looking surly. I tensed in my chair, holding his dark eyes with my own grey ones, but he walked behind my chair instead. Since I couldn’t look at him, I glowered at Jay instead as he leaned against the opposite wall, staring at me with an emotionless face.
Something flashed silver in the light to my right, and I turned my head slightly to see Finn slicing through the ropes that bound me. As he finished cutting the ropes around my calves and ankles, I moved my feet up and down, trying to get some feeling back into them. The moment the ropes that bound my hands gave way, I was up out of the chair like a bullet, hurling myself towards Jay.
Completely numb, my legs gave way before I got three feet, and I crashed to the floor like a rock. My vision swam, blurring Jay’s outline as Finn grabbed my arms from behind, yanking me back to my feet. Pain shot through my mind as I was dragged unceremoniously towards the door. Finn tried to make me stand on my own, but my feet simply wouldn’t allow it, so he pulled my arms behind me roughly to support my body.
Forcing myself not to recoil, I stared at Jay with lidded eyes, feeling my loathing build within me like a volcano. My breath was coming in ragged, pained gasps, colorful blotches weaving in front of my eyes as I fought the anguish within me. I hated looking so beat-up and helpless – like he had control over me or something. He was probably enjoying every minute of it.
Jay straightened, looking at me in amused pity and shaking his head. “You’re in a real mess, aren’t you, Charlie?”
“You,” I growled, my voice sounding distant to my ears. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He actually laughed, the sound sending a chill up my spine. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” His blue eyes scrutinized my face. “You’re smarter than you look, you know.”
I wanted to kill him – where was my gun? – but he was too far away for me to reach with Finn holding me as he was. So I merely gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to plant a foot in his crotch with added vigor. Finn twisted my arm cruelly, and another splotch of red fell over my eyes. My mouth opened in a gasp of pain, and Jay’s eyes glanced at Finn momentarily, although his face remained blank.
“What do you want?” My voice came out far too breathy for my liking, but the pain that was rocketing through me was too much to ignore.
Jay stepped forward, his blue eyes intense. “I think you know, don’t you?” he said quietly, and I frowned. “Because – don’t you feel the same way?”
“Way about what?”
He stopped moving, running a hand through golden hair, inclining his head to look at me closely. “About Delta.”
I furrowed my brow in confusion, and then immediately regretted it as a trickle of blood ran down my face from this movement. Attempting to wipe my face painfully on my sleeve, I replied callously, “What about Delta?”
Jay’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe I was mistaken.” His voice was so quiet that I could barely hear it, and I wondered if he was doing this for the benefit of the guards. “Maybe you don’t feel the same…desire…for revenge.”
“Revenge?” I stopped trying to rid myself of blood and stared at him. “Revenge for what? You’re the one who left!”
Left Delta, left Astrid…
Jay turned away, stepping outside of the room. At the last moment he turned, his outlined silhouetted in the contrast between the bright room and the dimly-lit corridor. His blue eyes were burning as he met my own, and I felt the hatred boil within me once more as he said softly,
“Maybe I didn’t.”
And then he was gone.
I tried to get away from Finn, tried to hurtle myself after Jay down the corridor, but before I could do anything, the Portuguese was slamming a fist into my abdomen. I doubled over, and he released me as I fell to the floor, my knees too unsteady to hold me. Trying to regain my breath, I retched, spitting up blood and water all over the floor.
“Tirá-lodaqui!” the other guard snarled, stepping back to avoid my vomit.
“Come on,” Finn told me roughly, grabbing my arms again and yanking me to me feet. My sweatshirt was wet and bloody in the front, and I could feel sweat pouring down my back even though my body was shaking. Spots still wavered in front of my eyes, causing my head to spin dizzily as Finn shunted me towards the door.
I almost couldn’t feel the pain as the Portuguese pulled me through the corridor. My mind was too boggled to think, my breath coming back to me slowly. Assuming Finn was taking me to wherever Astrid and Pierre were – and that being where I wanted to go – I let him lead me, dwelling on Jay’s words.
Didn’t…
Didn’t what? He definitely left Delta; that much he couldn’t deny. But what had he meant…Didn’t mean to? Didn’t mean to break Astrid’s heart? Didn’t mean to get on Delta’s bad side?
Then again, why was I obsessing over this? It was Jay – I shouldn’t care. He was gone, and hopefully Astrid realized why. Hatred was still boiling within me like some awakening volcano, and I felt my stomach lurch at the feeling. I wanted to find Jay, wherever he had gone – and if he was with Astrid, I would kill him. And if he wasn’t…I would anyway.
Before I knew it, Finn had stopped in front of a heavy metal door, shoving me up against the wall as he fiddled with a set of keys. Sticking one into the door, he turned it, and then kicked the door open. Everything this guy did was violent; he had some serious problems. I was wilting against the wall, fighting the urge to run off, because I knew that I wouldn’t get far. Finn was far too strong for me, especially when I was in this state.
I could hear Astrid’s voice from within the room, trying to ask Finn something, and my slipping mind perked up slightly at the sound of it. If only she wasn’t here…why did she think she had to do something for me? Pierre was also talking in a low, urgent voice – perhaps trying to bribe Finn. I almost laughed at this; the Portuguese was hardly the type to be coerced into anything but violence.
Finn was snarling something to them, and then he yanked me away from the wall, throwing me into the room with the force of a tank. Someone screamed – Astrid, my befuddled mind told me – and then I was falling, falling towards the concrete floor, too insecure on my feet to support myself…
Arms were catching me as my legs hit the cold concrete. The Portuguese was laughing, and then there came the sound of the door slamming shut. My mind was swimming, my vision almost gone, but I managed to look up to see who was holding me off the ground.
Astrid’s dark eyes were looking anxiously at me, and though her face was grimy and sweaty, a cut slashed across her temple, I thought I had never seen a more beautiful sight. My hands gripped her arms on their own accord, my brain already slipping away into unconscious. Her mouth was moving, but my ears had already turned off.
I mustered enough energy to open my own mouth, forcing my eyes to stay fixed on her own as black began to swarm my eyesight. “Do you always have to be such a hero?” I choked out, and her eyes widened, her face almost breaking into the smile that I so wanted to see.
But before I could catch a glimpse of that radiance, the darkness slipped over my eyes, and I passed out in her arms.
“…you promised!”
“And so did you, but did you keep that promise?”
“I’m going to tell you, I swear – but I can’t right now – Charlie, he–”
“It’s always about him, isn’t it?”
Something Astrid said that was always about me? Pierre’s words came filtering through my mind as if through a fog. I struggled to open my eyes, to climb out of the darkness surrounding me. Moving required painful energy, and so I concentrated on cracking my eyelids open a tiny bit.
For a few moments, my vision swam before me, making the outlines of Astrid and Pierre look like they were swinging like puppets. As feeling returned to the rest of my body, I realized I was lying on some sort of cot. Every inch of my body felt like it had been trampled on by a Clydesdale, and I was beginning to wish that I was still in the mercifully painless unconscious state.
I glanced around the room. We were in a small stone chamber of some sort, no windows to be seen, and with a heavy metal door that I dimly remembered being pushed through by Finn.
Finn…
And Jay…
Pierre was still talking. “…you tell me that, and then you say that you’ll tell me later. Make up your mind, Astrid; I want to know what’s going on!”
My eyes flicked to Astrid’s face as she paced the room. “I’m sorry, Pierre,” she was saying. “I want to tell you…but I don’t know how…Charlie – I don’t know – he can explain – I don’t want to…”
Pierre swore so loudly that my ears rang. “It’s still about him!”
As much as I enjoyed watching them argue – it was better than them making out, anyway – I didn’t like how they were talking about me. And Jay. So Astrid wanted me to tell Pierre about Jay? How the heck was I supposed to do that without causing World War III? And Pierre…it’s still about him…But it wasn’t about me. Pierre had the wrong guy: it was about Jay. It had always been about him.
Astrid was clenching her fists, her dark eyes furious from where I could see them. She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Pierre was leaning against the stone wall, running a hand through his tousled brown hair wearily, evidently trying not to look at Astrid as she struggled for words.
I decided to take action and propped myself up on one elbow. Immediately my body screamed in protest, jolting a cry of pain from my mouth. Astrid and Pierre whipped around, staring at me with wide eyes as I fell back against the cot, gritting my teeth in agony. The punishment of Finn’s beating was coming back to me with full force, my eyes filming over once more.
“Charlie!”
My name flew from Astrid’s mouth in a gasp as she sank to her knees on the floor next to me. It was gratifying to see the worry in her eyes as she touched my forehead gently. This sent a wave of pain through my head, but I ignored it, enjoying the feel of her hand on me.
I smiled crookedly at her, trying to disregard the pain building rapidly through me. “What’s up?” I croaked, my voice low and rasping.
Astrid seemed incapable of words as she whispered, “Oh…Charlie…”
I wanted to kiss her, no matter how much it hurt, and the feeling of her hand against my sweaty, dirty, bloody forehead was the most wonderful sensation I’d had in years. I could’ve just lain there for hours, staring into her brilliant eyes, but of course Mr. Rain Cloud had to butt in.
“You okay then?” he asked, a little harshly, and I could see he wasn’t going to be too forgiving for messing things up like I had.
Looking up at him, I took a moment to answer. “What was it you said, Astrid? After you got shot?” She looked at me warily, like she was afraid I had gone insane, but I grinned in a rather cockamamie manner, and continued, “I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but I could see she was fighting a smile. “You remember me saying that?”
You’re unforgettable. “Unfortunately,” I answered, gritting my teeth at her touch on my forehead. It was getting unbearable – especially since it was right at the place where Jay had whacked me with the butt of his pistol – and so I said, a little awkwardly, “Um, Astrid…would you mind – uh–”
“What?”
“Stop touching him,” Pierre stated bluntly, and Astrid’s hand whipped away from my forehead. I almost smiled at the jealousy in Pierre’s face as he looked at me, as if he wanted to be the one with the crap beaten out of him, just so Astrid could worry over him. I couldn’t understand how I was feeling – it was as if my mind was slipping away; I felt almost giddy as I tried to breathe.
“Sorry!” Astrid breathed, looking horrified. “I didn’t think – did it hurt? – shoot, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I assured her, though it was far from that. My tongue almost caught in my dry mouth, and I coughed involuntarily. “Water?” I managed, coughing again. I could taste blood in my mouth – it was overpowering – and so, even though I knew that it would freak Astrid out, I leaned over the side of the cot and vomited on the floor, splattering blood across the stone.
“Charlie!” Astrid cried again, and my heart twisted at the worry in her voice. I straightened, struggling to breathe normally, the taste of blood still all too evident in my mouth. My chest heaving and my head spinning dizzily, I concentrated on not throwing up again, not wanting Astrid to freak out even more.
I could feel the sweat coating my back, the perspiration running down my face from sheer agony. In a swift motion, I ripped my sweatshirt over my head, throwing it to one side in an effort to cool down. Panting slightly, I actually gripped handfuls of dark hair as spots danced before my eyes.
“Pierre – give me water!” Astrid was saying, her voice sounding frantic.
Thinking about it, that sounded pretty wrong, but Pierre merely turned sharply, picking up a metal pitcher of water that I hadn’t seen before. It had been lying on the floor, and now he handed it to Astrid, along with a metal, filthy-looking cup. Her hands shaking perceptibly, she filled the cup and handed it to me.
I took it, conveying my thanks with the barest hint of a smile, and drank from it. Reveling in the taste of the cool liquid on my parched throat, I tried to avoid Astrid and Pierre’s gazes as they watched me drink. The water swirled with the blood in my mouth, and I resisted the urge to spit it out beside me.
Astrid looked like she had a million questions to ask me, but didn’t seem to have the nerve. I wasn’t exactly clamoring to speak, either; something held me back from telling them what had happened to me. I wasn’t sure if I simply had sense of shame at being so easily caught, or I was just furious with Jay, or if I merely didn’t want Astrid to worry about me even more.
Pierre, however, didn’t have such qualms. “You look like crap.” His voice was blunt, to the point.
I had to agree with him but merely shrugged. Almost immediately, I regretted this action, as a burst of pain shot through my ribs. Wincing, I touched them with my hand, not wanting to see the bruise that was likely forming there.
My face felt filthy with sweat and blood, and I snatched up my sweatshirt, mopping my face with it. I could feel my body trembling, like I’d just run a marathon or something. The sweatshirt hit the sore spot from Jay’s gun on my temple, and I flinched, removing it rapidly.
Astrid caught this action. “Did he do this to you?” she asked me in a low voice.
Pierre heard this, looking at me curiously, but I kept my eyes on Astrid. “No,” I answered finally. It was, after all, the truth. Some of it, anyway.
Her eyes looked pained. “He did, Charlie.” She spoke softly, her voice tugging at my heartstrings. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
I sighed, staring down at the water in my hand. I didn’t like lying to her, but as I was partially telling the truth, my guilt wasn’t the large. Plus, the fury that was still inside of me was enough to cover up both the guilt I felt at lying to her and the pain I felt from Jay’s and Finn’s beatings.
“He only did what you saw on the glasses,” I told her quietly. “So basically, braining me with his gun.” She looked pale, and I tried to smile at her. “I’m fine, really. The rest was just…this other guy.”
Again, something seemed to keep me from giving her details. I didn’t want her to be upset on my part, especially if it messed with her training skills. Because it was crucial that we got out of there, and for that, I needed her.
“So it wasn’t…” Her voice trailed off.
It suddenly struck me that I was supporting Jay, and my stomach clenched angrily. Astrid had a right to hate him, as did I. There was no reason why I should be on his side. “He’s a mercenary now, Astrid,” I snapped. “He ordered the man who – well – he basically did this to me, and you know it.”
I expected her to look hurt, for her to blink back tears and tell me that she knew I was right. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to lean forward, her dark eyes stunningly bright, look right into my eyes, and whisper, “He has a heart, Charlie. I know he does.”
Unwilling to respond to this, I held her gaze for a moment.
“Who are we talking about?” Pierre questioned irritably. Abrupt as always; some things never changed.
“Define ‘we’,” I replied coldly, and Astrid shot me a look.
Pierre was looking at me with an emotion I couldn’t read, his eyes murky as he met my gaze with that strange look – and then it struck me. It was pity. Anger bubbled inside of me, and my hand clenched on the cup of water I held. I didn’t want his pity; I didn’t want anyone’s.
“You owe me an explanation, Astrid.”
I could almost feel Astrid exhale in a tense sigh, her eyes flicking back towards me as Pierre spoke. I met her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped, irked. “I’m not going to tell him about your ex-love life.”
Hurt registered in her eyes now, her face paling slightly. Immediately I regretted my words, but there was still too much fury building within me to answer, so I sipped the water to avoid her eyes.
“Well, someone had better start talking.” Pierre sounded royally annoyed.
Astrid took a deep breath. “Well, since Charlie won’t–” here she gave me a very dirty look that I was willing to bet I didn’t deserve – “I will.”
She settled herself against the stone wall, wrapping her arms around herself and hugging the jacket she wore to her. I realized with a jolt that it was an old jacket of Jay’s – one he had given to her just before he left. This hardly helped matters. Pierre looked around awkwardly for a moment, and then remained standing, crossing his arms and refusing to look at me. I sipped at my water, staring at the wall in front of me as Astrid began.
“When I was ten, I joined Delta.” She suddenly stopped, looking around with a furrowed brow. “Wait – what if they’ve bugged this room?”
I resisted rolling my eyes with a massive effort. “Astrid, darling,” I said, reminding myself irrevocably of Josh, “Jay’s with them. He knows we’re with Delta. We’re not exactly hiding anything from them.”
“Plus, the room has built-in bugs in the wall,” Pierre pointed out, gesturing around him. “Didn’t you notice them?”
“I was a bit preoccupied,” I replied testily. “Getting the crap beaten out of you doesn’t exactly hone your senses, bright guy.”
Pierre opened his mouth to retort, but Astrid interrupted.
“Stop being little kids,” she snapped, and we shut up. “Anyway…” Her eyes fixed on something we couldn’t see as she started again. “So I was ten when I joined – when Delta recruited me. They got Josh at the same time – we were neighbors, you see.”
Something in Pierre’s eyes flickered, but Astrid didn’t notice. “Jay…Jay had been recruited a couple years previously. He was thirteen when I joined. Because of how close we were in age, Delta thought it would be wise to have us all train together…Charlie, too,” she put in, glancing at me. “He joined the same year.”
“But what does that have to do with–” Pierre started impatiently, and I made a “shh” noise in his direction.
“So we trained together: Josh, Charlie, and I. And Jay…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked up at me. I felt my heart cracking at the hollow look in her eyes, knew that I was going to have to finish for her. She was begging me silently with her eyes, and I took a deep breath, focusing on the wall again.
“We all went on several assignments together, sometimes just two of us, sometimes three or four. When Astrid was thirteen – so Jay was sixteen – they went on this drill in Australia. And Jay – well – they were pretty close then.”
I ignored Pierre’s furtive look, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want Astrid to know that another pain, completely different from the agony of Finn’s beating, was growing in my heart at my words about Jay.
“Define ‘pretty close’,” Pierre said, mimicking the way I had said nearly the same thing only moments before.
I looked up at him. “You have to ask?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “You seriously have to ask?”
Astrid’s hands were clenched at her side again, and she pulled her knees up to rest her chin on them, not looking at either of us.
Taking another deep breath to slow my near-hyperventilating breathing, I continued. “So, they went on an assignment in Australia…something about terrorists…I don’t remember; I wasn’t there. Something got screwed up, and somehow the SIS got involved, which made things rather – sticky.”
“Wait a moment,” Pierre interposed slowly, straightening and looking between Astrid and me. “SIS? So the guy on the train…what was his name? Stephen?”
“Yeah,” Astrid spoke up, her voice so soft that I almost didn’t catch her words. Her eyes held an emotion that I couldn’t read as she looked between Pierre and I. “Yeah, he was the one who helped us – me and Jay – in Australia.”
Now I was remembering, and it explained the confusion on Stephen’s face when he found us on the train. Did he, too, know that Jay was with Decrioux, and suspected that we were as well? Talking seemed to ease some of the pain, my mind racing as I tried to think why Jay had done what he had.
“So what happened?” Pierre prompted. Astrid looked at me again, the pleading back in her eyes, and I went on.
“It was a complete fiasco – Josh and I were pulled out of Malaga to try and help, but…” I shrugged painfully. “We were too late. Jay and Astrid were flown back to the States, their mission failed.”
“Only one we ever did fail,” Astrid put in bitterly, her face hidden in the shadow.
I glanced at her. “Alan Young was – well – upset, to say the least.” I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. “He doesn’t like failure, you see. So Jay and Astrid were in deep crap by Delta’s standards…and, well…it’s not a good thing to be in.”
“And?” Pierre’s expression hadn’t changed.
I shrugged again, wincing at the fire in my ribs. “The rest I’m not sure about.” I looked over at Astrid again, wondering if she would take up this part of the story, but she remained silent, so I went on. “Something came up between Jay and Young – I don’t know what, don’t ask me. But after that assignment…Jay was never the same again.”
“He changed,” Astrid said suddenly, her voice constricted. “One moment I thought he was completely…completely in my life – and then – on my fourteenth birthday – all of a sudden, he was walking out…” Her voice cracked.
I hated doing it, but I interjected, “It wasn’t exactly walking out.”
Maybe I didn’t…Wasn’t that what he had said?
Astrid’s head shot up to glare at me, her eyes signaling that I had said enough, but Pierre cut in sharply, “What do you mean, he didn’t walk out?”
I sighed. “Jay – well – no one knows for sure what happened, but we know something did. No one can simply pack their bags and leave an organization like Delta – it just isn’t done. But one day, it seemed like Jay had done just that.”
“We thought maybe he’d been drafted to the CIA or MI6 or something,” Astrid explained miserably. “Or had just gone on another assignment. We – I – hoped that he’d be back within a week.”
“Some of us knew better,” I said darkly, my hand clenched around the cup I was holding. “Because he didn’t come back – and Alan Young was so upset over it that we knew it had been something bigger than an assignment or drafting.”
Pierre was looking between us, soaking this in. “So…where did he go?”
I exchanged a look with Astrid. “No one knows, do they? Jay left Delta, and no matter how hard they’ve looked for him, he hasn’t been found. He’s way too well-trained to let anyone find him – even someone like Alan Young.” I let out a short laugh. “So it seems that even the spies can’t find the spy.”
A frown crossed over Pierre’s face. “They never found him?” he repeated, his faith in intelligence agencies taking a severe dent.
I shook my head. “He left and hasn’t been seen since.”
Not for lack of trying, either. Jay had to be pretty darn good to avoid Delta that long – he was hardly picayune in their opinion, and they’d been tracking him for ages. Probably still were, for that matter. My mouth went dry as a thought struck me – was this the real reason we were here? Because Young knew that Jay was here?
“He hasn’t been seen?” Pierre reiterated, frowning.
“Until now,” Astrid whispered, sounding almost wonderstruck. “Now, of all times…and with Decrioux. What can it mean?”
I didn’t like her tone, and tried to disregard it as a throbbing pain erupted in my temple. Dropping the cup of water to the ground, I bit my lip, avoiding Pierre’s eyes as he gazed impassively at me. But Astrid was right – what did it mean? Why was Jay with Decrioux? What had happened to make him leave Delta in the first place?
So many questions…and no answers.