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Chapter Five
♥ Astrid ♥
“I just want you three to know that you’ve messed things up rather nicely for us here at Delta. Tracking down Cloying is not going to be pleasant.”
Alan Young folded his hands on top of his desk, fixing us with a stern stare as we sat in front of him in a silence. Josh did not look pleased, his eyebrows furrowing dangerously as he glared at the director; Pierre merely looked impassive, as I was discovering was his favorite emotion of late. I kicked at the ground dully with my heel, allowing my eyes to drift around the room.
“Miss von Shauff, did you hear me?”
Strongly reminded of a kid in a principal’s office, I glanced back at my boss, making my face look attentive. “We messed up. I got it.”
It was Young’s turn to look displeased. Heaving a sigh, he lifted a file folder from his desk, leafing through it with pursed lips. Josh and I exchanged a raised eyebrow, a touch of a smirk brushing his mouth. It had been a few days since his return, during most of which he had been sleeping, and the fatigue had mostly left his face. His shoulder also seemed to be healing, and the old spark of mischief was back in his eyes.
“So, all in all,” Young was saying now, “you’re saying that not only did you allow one of your fellow agents to be killed, you ‘escaped’ this manor without finding out anything further about this man, and, I may add, without discretion; you found it necessary to call in a full-fledged team of agents; and you let Cloying get away from the manor. He is now gallivanting across Europe, we have lost his location, and his resources seem to be much better than we had believed.”
There was a long silence, and then we seemed to realize he was looking for a response to his deduction. “Uh…yeah, that sounds about right.” Josh’s tone was blasé as he looked calmly into his boss’s face.
Young made a noise of irritation, placing the folder back down on his desk without addressing it and leaning forward to stare us down in turn. “You three have never failed me before. Well…” His eyes drifted to me, and I bit my lip, remembering the days with Jay in Australia that had ended in total disaster. I glared at him until he continued, his eyes moving back to the boys. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Are you almost through?” Josh sounded bored. “I think we missed dinner.”
All three of us jumped as Young’s fist collided with his desk. “I am serious here!” he hissed. “You have caused all of us a great deal of inconvenience, and the loss of an agent has not been good for this agency!”
“Oh, right.” My anger sparked, causing me to sound overly sarcastic. “It wasn’t ‘good for the agency.’ What about Charlie’s family? What about us? You think we didn’t care? But this isn’t a death to you, no – it’s a big game, isn’t it, your own little game where if we fail you, you can–”
Josh’s hand grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me back into my chair. I hadn’t even realized I was beginning to rise out of it. Shutting up, I looked brazenly at Young’s frozen face as he stared at me with fury in his eyes. “Learn to keep your mouth shut once in a while,” Josh said to me out of the side of his mouth, which I thought was a bit rich, seeing as this was usually him in situations like such.
“You are dismissed,” Young gritted out. “Until I can figure out what to do with you.”
We rose as one, me with my hands and jaw clenched, Josh with a forcedly casual look on his face, Pierre with that same lack of expression. I jostled my chair aside, stalking to the door and shoving it open, and then, with one foot in the hallway, I heard Young’s voice once more from behind me: “LaPointe, if you will stay behind a moment, please…”
I froze, my head swiveling to look at Pierre. For the last week, he had been mostly silent, white-faced and wan-looking even as his health began to get better, according to the doctors. I had been unable to get much out of him regarding what had happened; he obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and who could blame him? After three days in the hospital and several more of rest, he looked much better than when I had first seen him, though his appetite was still bad and there were dark circles under his eyes.
Now he had stopped dead halfway to the door, still facing us as his eyes flickered slightly – the most surprise he seemed capable of showing. Then his face seemed to harden as he looked between Josh and me, his jaw clenching and unclenching as we stared at him before he turned to face the director of Delta. Young was sitting with a beatific look on his face – which made me ten times more suspicious – but there was a keen spark in his eyes as he looked at Pierre.
“You are dismissed, von Shauff, Steiner,” he said pleasurably. “LaPointe, if you will please sit once more…” He gestured to the chairs, and after a pause, Pierre sat stiffly, not even glancing at me as he did so. Confused, I looked to Josh, who shrugged with a blank look, and then back at the director, who gave us a no-nonsense look that warned us to get lost.
In silence, Josh and I strode out of the room, and I slammed the door behind me before falling against the wall next to it and staring at my best friend. “What the heck was that about?” I demanded, and he shrugged again, moving to my side so that we couldn’t be seen by Young.
“Like I’m supposed to know?” He began pulling something out of his pockets, untangling strings. “I gotta say, though, something weird’s going on with Pierre…Young is acting strange, and Pierre, and…well, everyone. Wulf doesn’t know,” he added, catching the look on my face. “He says he’s not high enough up there on the totem pole to know these confidential things. But he thinks there’s something weird going on, too.”
I frowned. It was obvious that Josh hero-worshipped Wulf, even though he would never admit to it, and the frustration in his eyes was evident at his lack of knowledge. I didn’t know everything he had been through during his time in France, but he seemed to be more in the Delta loop than I was, especially seeing as I had basically been out of service for the past two months. For some reason, that bothered me.
Without a word, Josh handed me one half of the device he had taken from his pocket: a set of earphones that were unlike most you could buy at Radio Shack, seeing as they could be used to listen through walls. I slipped my end into my ear, and Josh pressed the input-tip against the wall. There was a brief moment of stifled noise and static, and then their voices came through to us clearly.
“You know what I’m talking about.” Young, sounding serene as ever.
“Yeah, but I’d rather not talk about it,” came Pierre’s tense-sounding voice, and I could almost picture his face darkening. “There’s nothing to talk about, Alan.” Ooh, a first-name basis. This was getting interesting. Josh glanced over at me; I shrugged, straining to hear everything.
“You almost let everything out, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Pierre said brusquely, and Alan Young’s soft chuckle filtered through my ear.
“That was just a bit of information to entice our…listeners.”
Josh and I froze, meeting each other’s eyes. The sound of footsteps coming towards the door came from within the room, and Josh whipped the headphone out of my ear, as well as his own, and tucked them into his pocket. I couldn’t help but grin sheepishly as the door swung open to reveal a sardonic-looking Pierre. He glanced between us, a wry smile coming onto his face.
“That wasn’t obvious,” he said with a good deal of sarcasm. “You know, I was really expecting something loads better than this. After all, it’s not like you haven’t been training as teenage spies for the last few years, right?”
I shrugged. “Worth a try anyway.”
Pierre sighed. “Look, this is nothing, okay? It’s not important. Go and have dinner or something, let us talk. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
His words weren’t believable for a second, but I nodded anyway, tugging Josh’s arm as I said, “Okay. Have fun.” A smirk crossed my face purposefully and Pierre rolled his eyes before disappearing back into Young’s office. As soon as the door clicked shut, I released Josh’s arm, furrowing my brow as I stared at where Pierre had vanished.
“Well, that wasn’t cryptic.” I was feeling rather vexed.
Josh sighed. “I suppose we’ll figure out sooner or later, huh? Come on, then, we may as well go and eat.”
Frustrated, I followed him to the cafeteria area. This Delta headquarters was built sort of like a college, since it was a training center as well. Our sleeping and living areas were in a sort of a dormitory, with separate bedrooms that were much nicer than usual college rooms; a TV, ping-pong and pool tables, and several couches in a common room; a quiet study area to do homework; and a cafeteria and kitchen space. The rest of the buildings around were the classrooms, firing ranges, laboratories, and offices of other agents.
Without really thinking about it, I made myself a plate of spaghetti and carried it to one of the tables, sliding into a seat across from Josh. He was tucking into a large plate of noodles, mopping up the sauce with a piece of garlic bread. I picked up one fork listlessly, staring at my plate with no real appetite. Josh glanced at me with a mouth full of bread but said nothing, his eyes moving instead to my right.
“Janeth!” he sputtered.
“What?” I turned in my seat to see the woman who had been on his team in France in a wheelchair pushed by a grinning Wulf. She had long dark hair and soft hazel eyes, and there was a smile on her face as she looked at Josh.
“Swallow,” she said gently, and blushing, he did. I raised an eyebrow. Looked like Wulf wasn’t the only one taken by this lady.
“Janice!” He dropped his utensils, taking in her appearance with wide eyes. “I didn’t know you were out of the hospital!” He looked at the wheelchair with a slight frown, which she caught.
“I’m okay,” she assured him. “They just want me in this thing to make sure I won’t fall over or something.” She rolled her eyes. “As if I’m some crippled old lady.”
“You’ll never be an old lady,” said Wulf, squeezing her hand, and she laughed, giving him a punch on the arm. A smile slid over Josh’s face, and I gave him a dry look. He caught it and made a face at me, mouthing, it’s not what you think.
“This is Astrid,” he said, gesturing towards me.
“I know.” Janice smiled at me. “We were sort of introduced in that police station in France, remember?”
The honest part of me – however small – had barely any memory of that particular police station, although several others came to mind. However, since I had heard so much about her, and I really wasn’t in the mood for introductions, I pasted a polite smile on my face and nodded. “Yeah, hey, Janice.”
Josh gave me a querying look, but I glanced at Wulf instead. “What’s our dear director up to?” May as well get to the point, I figured.
An exasperated look came over the older agent’s face. “How did I know this question was coming? Just a moment, okay? Janice, you want to sit with them while I grab some food?”
“Sure,” she replied, using her arms to scoot the wheelchair up to the edge of the table. “And don’t forget the garlic bread, Hans. And iced water. And extra napkins – you know how I am with spaghetti sauce.”
Wulf pulled a face. “Any more orders?” He looked at Josh. “Jeez, I feel like I’m married already!”
Josh grinned at him, and the agent disappeared into the kitchen area, while Janice struck up a light conversation with us. I wasn’t really listening to most of it, simply nodding and saying “yeah” occasionally, and she seemed to realize this, because she eventually began directing most of her comments at Josh, who was giving me covert annoyed looks at my rudeness.
At last Wulf emerged from the kitchen, bearing two plates heaped with food, one of which he set down with a flourish beside his fiancée. He then pushed Josh’s chair over and pulled another one up so that he was seated next to her. Josh threw him an irritated look, which was most likely staged, because of the smile playing across his lips as he picked up his fork again.
I felt a slight pang at their familiarity with each other, wishing more than ever that I had been in France with them. It was probably a good thing that Josh had become so chummy with another male, though – I could tell he was missing Charlie, and hanging out with me, as a female, wasn’t the best thing for a teenage guy most of the time. Still, it hurt a little to see them laughing together, because that was usually us.
“Well?” I prompted, interrupting the light chatter.
Wulf sighed, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “All right, you win. You picked a tough girl, kid,” he said in a side to Josh, who smirked.
“You picked a tougher one.”
“True, true,” conceded Wulf with a nod, patting Janice’s hand. “That’s what we manly types have to do around here, don’t we? Luckily Delta seems to have a surplus of tough females.” I winced, thinking of Darcy. “Good thing we made good choices, eh?”
I fixed them with a beady look. “Let’s stop straying from the point. I’m not dating Josh, I never intend to, and I definitely never will.”
Wulf threw up his hands in defense. “Okay, hold up, cowgirl. I was just teasing.”
“You know, your endearing terms get annoying,” I said, glancing at Josh, who was grinning. “Did anyone ever tell you that?”
“All the time,” chorused Janice and Josh with identical wicked looks, and Wulf actually managed to look injured.
“I mean them affectionately–”
I shook my head in irritation. “All right, whatever. Not sure why you feel affectionately to me, but – no, I don’t want to know,” I added hurriedly as both male agents opened their mouths to answer. “Let’s just stick with my question, okay? What do you know about what Alan Young is up to? Why can’t we be in the know, like you?”
A hush fell around the table; all the humor seemed to have died away. I was almost beginning to regret my word choice as Wulf chewed slowly, his eyes fixed on my face with a peculiar expression in them. He glanced at Janice, who did a half-nod, half-shrug sort of thing, and then at Josh, who looked like he was just barely holding back his own impatience at not knowing what was going on.
Wulf sighed once more, sliding his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. “Okay, looks like you’re victorious again.” Pushing his plate away, he picked up his water glass, sipping it. “I’m not sure what I should tell you, though. No,” he read the question on my face, “you know how things are here, Astrid, you can’t expect me to just tell you everything. Actually, as it is, I don’t know much myself.”
“But you know more than us,” I urged, and he looked away.
“Yes,” he verified after a moment. “But that’s not really saying anything. Look,” he leaned forward, meeting my eyes directly; “I’m going to give it to you like it is, and I’m not sure you’ll like it. It concerns your boyfriend – sorry, friend? – whatever. LaPointe, isn’t it? The guy we were chasing across France for two months?”
“What about him?” I couldn’t keep the snap out of my voice. Janice was suddenly looking tense, while Josh’s eyes were sparked with excitement as he listened.
Wulf dipped a finger into his water glass, swirling a pattern on the table with the damp tip as he frowned at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you that bit, per se…But,” he added, as I opened my mouth in dissatisfaction, “I know something weird is going on, and your little Mr. LaPointe is probably pretty high on the list of Delta’s concerns right now.”
I frowned. “Concerns? What did he do?”
Wulf opened his mouth, closed it with an uncertain look, and then said slowly, “I really don’t think…I should be the one to tell you that part.”
“Excuse me?” I fell back in my chair, crushed. “You build up all that suspense and then tell me nothing?”
“It definitely was not that much suspense,” retorted Wulf, seemingly unable to help himself as he scoffed slightly. “I’m sorry that you’re over-eager to learn information that will probably just hurt you more.”
Josh looked confused. “Wulf, what are you talking about?”
Janice leaned forward a little, placing a hand on Wulf’s arms soothingly as he opened his mouth with an angry look. “Josh, he can’t say any more. That’s what he’s trying to tell you. He probably wasn’t even supposed to say that much, but he felt he owed you something.”
“He didn’t tell us anything at all!” I protested, and Wulf gave me a cold look.
“You aren’t the one I owe.”
Ouch. I cringed in my seat, averting my eyes from his icy gaze, wishing that I had thought before I spoke. Josh looked between us awkwardly, unsure of what to say. It was easy for him; he had somehow gotten himself into Wulf’s good books, which I was beginning to see would be something difficult to achieve. Why did I always have to mess everything up?
“I’m sorry,” I said in a low voice, looking up with meekness. “I’m just…tired and worried and…making excuses.”
He studied me a moment and then inclined his head. “Thank you for that.” His tone was still crisp as he picked up a piece of garlic bread, and I bit my lip, wondering what I could say to make things better. Janice looked like she was trying to hold back a smile, and Josh looked exasperated, shaking his head as he stole a noodle from my plate.
“Hey, don’t do that,” I complained, and he shrugged.
“You’re not eating it. Too busy butting heads.”
At that, he choked, laughter spilling out of him in strangled bits as he tried to contain it. Janice’s face worked furiously as she tried to contain herself, but then she, too, couldn’t help laughing, although in a way that was a bit more refined than Josh’s boisterous uproar. Wulf gave her an irritated look which he then passed on to Josh, who ignored him as he slapped the table in hilarity.
I took things into my own hands, literally, slapping Josh alongside the head until he shut up, raising his head to glare at me. “What was that for?”
“Stop laughing at me. What’s so funny?” I demanded.
Josh began to grin all over again. “I can’t help it. It’s just – you and Wulf – you’re such idiots…” Anyone could tell he was about to crack up once more.
“Shut up,” Wulf muttered, shoving his good shoulder, but Josh just covered his mouth with his napkin as he struggled to contain himself.
“He’s just laughing because you remind him so much of how he and Wulf used to be on the assignment in France, Astrid,” said Janice in a sweet voice, and Josh immediately gained control, lowering the napkin to transfer his glare to her.
“Who asked you, anyway?”
Wulf slapped the back of his head good-humoredly. “Watch who you’re talking to there, kid, or I’ll beat you up in an alleyway.”
Josh sipped his water with a sulky expression. “Who do you think you are, some grizzled gangster?”
“You got it, kid.” Wulf gave him a playful slap on his shoulder – what was it with guys and hitting each other, anyway? – and then withdrew his hand quickly with a look of alarm. “Crap, sorry; forgot about your injury there. Did that hurt?”
“Nah.” Josh rotated his shoulder briefly, ducking away from the older agent’s concerned look with a reddening face. “It’s better now…seriously.”
I twirled my napkin around with one finger as Wulf moved back to his dinner, starting a conversation with Janice that only the two of them seemed to understand. Josh met my eyes for a moment, long enough for us to exchange a baffled look at Wulf’s conversation, and then he bit into his garlic bread again. A large exhale escaped me as some of my frustration let loose.
What was going on?
A distraction appeared in the shape of Darcy. She strode over to our table with a purposeful expression, and I groaned, slouching in my chair. “Hide me,” I begged Josh, seriously considering ducking underneath the table. “I just can’t handle any of her questions right now.”
He smirked as the redhead slipped into the chair next to me. “Hey, Astrid,” she greeted in a surprisingly calm voice, her eyes moving over Wulf and Janice. “Hello, Josh, and people I don’t know.”
“Stranger danger,” muttered Josh, and received a frosty look for his efforts.
“This is Hans Wulf and Janice,” I introduced in a bland tone, gesturing to each in turn. “Guys, meet–”
“Jones.” She brought her hands up to her neck and mimed flipping a nonexistent collar. “Darcy Jones.”
“–an operative from Toronto here to train at Delta,” I finished with a dry look in her direction. “Thank you for that, James Bond. You guys familiar with each other in the slightest bit?”
“Yeah, we’ve met.” Wulf grinned at her. “’Sup, ginger?”
Darcy eyed with wintrily. “That’s ‘Darcy,’ to you, mate, I don’t care if you’re an older agent.” She directed her gaze back at me. “Anyway…”
“Please,” I moaned, covering my face with my napkin. “Don’t ask me anything right now. I just can’t take it.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Well, I was going to tell you something, actually, but if you’re in that bad of a mood…”
“What?” My voice came out muffled from behind the napkin. “If it has to do with a boy, go drown yourself in the kitchen dishwasher. I’ve had enough of them to last me about ten years.”
A short silence followed my statement, and I removed the napkin from my face to see looks of mingled sympathy, amusement, and bewilderment. “Ugh,” Josh shuddered, “girl drama. Exactly what I needed.” Everyone snorted, and I gave him a grateful look even though I was annoyed at him for saying it.
Darcy rolled her baby blues. “Yeah, yeah, well…it does concern a male, now that you mention it, but at least it’s not the one that starts with a J, eh?”
“Starts with a J?” Josh gave her an amused look. “That’s his entire name, stupid.”
“Don’t–”
“–call her stupid,” I finished wearily, shutting Darcy up. Wulf was giving me a peculiar look, and as I met his eyes, he glanced away once more, although he seemed to have lost his appetite. Janice was looking at him with anxious eyes. I sighed, looking back at the young Canadian. “Okay, DJ, shoot: what do you want to tell me?”
“Hurry up and spit it out,” added Josh, picking up his glass to drink.
Darcy glowered. “I was getting to it! I was just going to inform you – I mean, I thought you just might want to know – seeing as it concerns you and everything – but if you don’t want to talk about it…”
I gripped my temples. “Darcy. Freaking tell me.”
She took a deep breath. “Pierre is in his room packing, and will leave shortly.”
Her words had come out so fast that they took a moment to process. The sound of Josh’s glass shattering on the floor shocked them through to my mind, and I stared at her in stunned silence. My mouth moved, but no sound came out, and my legs seemed to move on their own accord, pushing me up out of the chair. Josh met my eyes, his own shock reflected in them, and then he, too, was rising – but to hold me back.
“Astrid, wait!” He tripped over his chair, sprawling on the floor. “Crap – Astrid – come back, you can’t just go to him like that!”
Wulf was coming to his feet as well, but I was already moving away from the table, my feet moving rapidly towards the exit as my mind struggled to catch up with my wildly thumping heart. Pierre, leaving? What the hell for? Why hadn’t he told me? I stumbled into the hallway, breaking into a sprint as I began to head towards the dorm area. Behind me, I could hear Josh yelling my name from the cafeteria, but I didn’t turn to look at him.
What was going on?
I echoed these words as I crashed into Pierre’s room, my hand twisting on the unlocked doorknob to throw open the door. His white face turned up at me as he was throwing a shirt into an open suitcase on his bed, and he froze as I clutched the sides of the doorway for support, staring at me as I asked him again.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Astrid–” Words seemed to fail him. The shirt he had been holding had drooped into his bag as his hands went limp. I couldn’t move towards him, remaining where I was and staring at him with hot blood running through my veins.
“Why?” My voice cracked. “Why are you leaving?”
His eyes were wide and heartrending in his white face, and he straightened, moving towards me and grabbing my forearms. “I have to,” he whispered, searching my face. “You understand, don’t you?”
I gulped, my heart thrumming painfully. His words almost exactly echoed those of Jay’s, nearly three years ago, when he had left Delta. When I had asked him why he was packing to go, when I asked him why he was ruining my perfectly good birthday celebration by leaving me forever, when he told me that I had to understand, that things would never work out… that he had to leave. And now Pierre was doing the same.
But I could change it this time.
Wrenching my arms out of his grasp, I snapped, “No! No, I freaking don’t understand. What’s going on? What haven’t you told me?”
His mouth opened and closed again, and then a world-weary look came over his face. He moved away from me, turning his back and moving back to the chest of drawers on the opposite wall, rifling through the top drawer once more. “Sit down,” he told me in a curt voice.
I looked around awkwardly and then sank onto his bed next to his suitcase, staring at his tense back as he threw a few shirts onto the top of the dresser. A long silence fell as he finished going through his drawer, throwing the things he had chosen to take into his bag and then stopping to look me in the eyes.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” he began, but I cut him off.
“Please, save me the crap.” I hated the coldness in my voice, but my heart wasn’t ready to let another boy leave my life so soon. “Tell me what you were talking about with Young, tell me why you’re leaving, and then tell me why you think you have to.”
His face grew very still for a moment, and then he sank down opposite to me on the bed, placing a few more things into his bag. I rubbed my palms against the thighs of my jeans and then wondered why I was so nervous. Pierre couldn’t leave. It didn’t make logical sense. I twisted the end of my braid and watched him as he seemed to struggle for something to say.
“I–”
Seemingly remembering something, he stood up and opened the bottom drawer of his dresser, digging through it before finding what he was looking for. He dropped a black handgun on top of his bag and zipped it shut, falling onto the bed again next to me and biting his lip in a show of uncharacteristic uncertainty. I glanced at the bag, picturing the weapon and wondering how I could ask him what he needed it for.
“Young and I…” He couldn’t seem to get the words out. “We were talking, and – I think there’s something you need to know.”
I frowned at him. “No kidding.”
He winced. “Okay, well…I’m not sure how to put it. Basically,” he took a deep breath, “I’m leaving Delta because I never really belonged here in the first place, and Young thinks I’ve done something that I didn’t do.”
My blood ran cold. Jay. “What?” I asked in barely a whisper.
“Nothing too extreme,” he said hastily, reaching out a hand as if to reassure me. I looked at it and he froze, leading to an awkward pause in which he allowed his hand to settle on the zipper of his bag and proceeded to begin to tweak it back and forth. “I just…don’t really have a place here at Delta.”
“But you’ve been here for ages!” I protested, leaning forward so that he would be forced to meet my eyes. “Pierre, I’ve known you since I was fourteen.” Even as I said it, I realized that it was the reason why he hadn’t known about Jay. Had I really only known him that short a time?
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Maybe not as well as you think.”
This was taking a confusing turn and was beginning to sound all too familiar – Jay’s story had sounded an awful lot like this one. “Well, what don’t I know about you?” I challenged. “Something deep and dark from your past that I should know about?” I attempted to put humor into my voice, but it fell flat as he shrugged.
“I’m not part of Delta. It’s as simple as that.”
I rubbed my eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Just that. I’m not part of Delta, and I never have been.”
There were so many emotions running through me that I had a struggle with myself trying to pinpoint which one his words were triggering. He looked away from me, his face blank as I stared at him with a growing sense of desperate bewilderment. His hands were balled into fists that rested gently on the bedspread, his feet shifting restlessly on the floor as he refused to meet my eyes.
“You aren’t – a Delta operative?” I managed after a long moment, and he lifted a shoulder.
“Not really, I suppose.” His voice was so nonchalant that I couldn’t speak for a moment, my heart taking over my vocal cords as thousands of questions raced through my mind. I knew he had transferred to Delta from another agency, which explained why he had already been so good…but somehow I had only pictured the CIA or something equally American. What was happening to me? First Charlie and now him…
“I can’t lose you, too,” I blurted out in a sudden desperation, and as he looked away, I moved towards him, grabbing his arm and clinging to him. “Please. Tell me what’s going on. Say you can stay.”
He gently moved his arm out of my grip. “I can’t stay, Astrid.” His voice was low and unstressed, but underneath that was a level of sadness that I could see in his eyes. “I can’t really tell you anything else, either, except that I need to be somewhere else right now.” He hesitated. “This day was always going to come. I knew that my time here was short. That’s why I didn’t feel…right…being with you.”
His words were sincere, well-chosen, and it was obvious that he had thought about what he would say to me. But I couldn’t allow them to fall through, couldn’t allow him to leave as well. I laid a hand on his arm again, softly this time, and his eyes moved to look at me as I searched for the right words.
“Why?”
A sigh escaped him as his fingers reached up to brush a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear with a tender gesture. “You don’t need me, Astrid,” he murmured, and as I opened my mouth to protest, he laid a finger against my lips, shaking his head. “No, don’t tell me you do. I know how you feel about me, even though I don’t think you do. You don’t need me.”
“But I do.” My voice sounded broken, my fingers curling around his arm. “Please, Pierre, stay…I can’t lose someone else…”
He lifted my hand from his arm once more, this time taking it in his own and squeezing it slightly. “You’re not losing anyone, Astrid,” he said quietly. “It’s not like I’m leaving this world, and who cares if we break a few rules and keep in touch?” A smile twisted across his lips, but it was full of acrimony.
“What am I going to do?” I whispered, leaning my head onto his shoulder. I rested it there for a moment before he moved slightly away from me, lifting me from him with a gentle hand.
“Don’t.” There was a catch in his voice. “Don’t kid yourself, Astrid. I know you don’t love me; you never did.”
I gazed at him, my heart breaking in my chest. “What are you saying?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. I – we’ll never work out, Astrid.”
His presence was intoxicating, the sorrow in his eyes drowning me. I wanted to be near him and at the same time far, far away, my heart pounding as I strove to find something to say. “When are you leaving?”
The zipper on the bag began moving again. “Tonight.”
“Tonight?” I echoed, unable to keep the distress from my voice. He gave me a long look, touching my hand briefly and sending a shot of warmth up it. A long sigh came from his lips again as he took me in his arms at last. I buried my face in his chest, wondering why tears weren’t coming when I was feeling so upset. Maybe I was out of them after everything.
“I have to go, Astrid.” He moved his hands in circles on my back and then pulled me forward to look me in the face. “I’m only sorry that I couldn’t tell you sooner.”
A flash of anger shot through me. “Yeah, why didn’t you?” I demanded, staring into his eyes. “You didn’t trust me?”
The tip of his finger traced a pattern on my forehead. “It wasn’t a matter of trust. I couldn’t – it would have jeopardized the mission and, more importantly, you.” His voice made me forget to ask my next question – what had been his mission – and I so wanted to lean into him again, but he was still holding me away from him. I swallowed hard, fighting the emotions deep within me.
“This is good bye, Astrid,” he said, and his voice was soft. “I can’t stay here with you any longer. You’ll learn to live without me – I’m sure it won’t take long.” He began to move away from me, but I clutched his arm again.
“I don’t care what you say.” My voice trembled. “I do need you. I need you here with me. Please, Pierre.”
He smiled again, this one sorrowful and perceptive at the same time, as if he was looking into my soul. “I know you better than you think. You think you need me, but you don’t. I’m just someone for you to lean on, to distract you, but I can tell it only ends in guilt for you.” And as my eyebrows furrowed in misunderstanding, “You think I didn’t notice the attraction you had to that guy back at the manor? Jay or something? You think I was blind to the way you looked at him, even as he was threatening to kill you?”
My heart twisted. “I don’t love Jay,” I said fiercely. “I could never love him.”
A soft laugh escaped his lips. “Whose sweatshirt are you wearing?”
Taken aback, I looked down at what I was wearing, and as I did, he released me, shifting backwards so that the bag was between us. I looked up at him as he stood, that emotionless expression back on his face. My mouth opened in confusion to ask a question, but he merely shook his head wordlessly, and my eyes moved back to the hoodie I was wearing.
The soft brush of the grey sweatshirt against my skin suddenly became startlingly obvious; the comforting feeling it gave me shooting warmth through my chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature. It was nondescript enough, simply a light grey in color, long past its prime but still comfortable. Written in faded green words was Notre Dame, the strings of the hood so frayed that they hung limply down my shoulders.
I hadn’t even realized that I was wearing it, as I had been wearing it most every day since I had found it in Charlie’s room. It still smelled of him, bringing back memories that were painful to think about, of the dark-haired boy with the stormy grey eyes, the irrepressible best friend that had stayed by my side for so long. I buried my face in its sleeves for a moment, drinking in his presence and finding it so real that as I raised my eyes I expected to see him in front of me, hands on hips and eyes laughing.
“It’s Charlie’s,” I said to Pierre finally, and there was knowing look in his eyes.
“You see?” he said, and I felt more confused than ever.