Hola!! So I’ve been wondering this for a long time, what do you guys think I look like? And how old and stuff? Cuz people have said different things and stuff and it kills me sometimes. But anyway! So, here’s Chapter Sixteen, I hope you enjoy it…sorry if it’s kind of dragging right now, I promise some action by Chapter, well, 18 because that’s what I’m on lol. But yeah please tell me how I can make things better for you in your comments, anything at all, criticism is GREATLY APPRECIATED!! Thank you so much! And please fan/vote/comment ugh I mean follow I’m never gonna understand okay bye!

Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Sixteen



♦ Charlie ♦



I couldn’t stop looking at her. She was beautiful, even with her mussed hair and three-day-old clothes and the deep shadows under her eyes. I was in a dream, watching her every move as she prepared breakfast for me, wondering if this was real and whether I would wake again to find myself in that cold, dark room as I had so many times before. That fear, the fear of return, was still in me, so strong that I had to keep taking reality checks, as if at any moment I would open my eyes and they would all be gone. She would be gone.



Her face was anxious and she kept glancing back at me. I tried to look away when she did this, not wanting to make it obvious that I was staring, but I couldn’t mistake the worry in her eyes. My hands curled defensively in the sweatshirt Josh had lent me, the blood rising in my face as I saw her eyes flicker down to my wrists again. Lowering my head so that my hair flopped into my face, I avoided her look and sat quietly until she put a plate of toast and eggs before me with a nervous expression.



“I hope it’s good –” she began, and I felt like smiling again because I knew how bad a cook she was, but the effort to do so was too great. Instead, I just picked up the fork and tasted some, my mouth immediately drowning in saliva. It took all my self-control to eat slowly, savor each bite, because the starved animal inside of me wanted to inhale the whole plate. It was food, real food.



“It’s great,” I told her a moment later, and she smiled with a look of relief. I took another mouthful, but my stomach was already balking at the amount I had eaten, even though it was a quarter of what she had put before me. Trying not to hurt her feelings, I put the fork down and sipped at a glass of water. “I’m not hungry,” I said as she bit her lip.



“I’m sorry, I guess I can’t cook.”



She tried to laugh at herself, but I saw in her eyes that she realized the real reason why I wasn’t eating, that my stomach had seemed to shrink to the size of a peanut. One hand moved to the end of her ponytail and nervously she began twisting it, as if she was uncomfortable in my presence. I was overwhelmed by hers; I had forgotten, or never truly appreciated, how dark her eyes were or how good she smelled or the little pucker that formed in her lips as she frowned. I just wanted to take her in my arms again and stay with her forever.



But there was still that fear. That I’d be taken away.



“So tell me what’s happened since, you know…” I tried to find a way to change the subject. “If you guys turned up in London, something must have happened. And,” remembering the blonde kid who looked so much like Jay, “who’s the kid?”



Astrid took a deep breath, and then she began telling me everything that had happened in the three and a half months I had missed. Halfway through, I realized rather abstractly that I was gripping the edge of the table tightly, my knuckles burning white as my mind swirled. I was still having trouble accepting that it had been so long, my throat closing as Astrid told me about finding Joel Nicholson, who was apparently Jay’s younger brother, and the AWOL against them and Pierre leaving – wow, I’d forgotten about him – and their flight to London. And how she had found me.



I couldn’t even remember how she had, except for some indistinct memories of her face near mine and her hand clenching my own and her scent playing somewhere near my head in a grey mist and deep, intense cold that shook my entire body. She told me how I had been sick for days, which explained why I remembered nothing, and how the French doctor had tended to me until I was brought back here.



When she had finished, there was a long silence as she sat watching me and I wiped a hand over my face, trying to take it all in. Eventually I stood and exited the kitchen silently, walking into the bathroom and leaning over the sink as what little I had eaten threatened to come back up. I heard her calling my name but ignored it, Josh’s voice drifting over hers as he entered the room and tried to calm her down while I struggled to stay focused.



“Sorry,” I told her a few minutes later as I rejoined her and now Josh in the kitchen. “It was kind of – a lot – to take in.”



“Give the guy a break, Astrid,” said Josh, lightly punching her shoulder. “It was crazy for us to go through, how would you like to be slammed with it in two minutes?”



Which only served to make her look even more worried, but I managed to convince her that I was okay. Collapsing in the chair again, I put my elbows on the table and ran my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath. “So…Delta’s after us, you think Pierre’s agency might be after us, and now Cloying probably wants us again, too…and all because you took that kid with you? Jay’s brother?”



Josh and Astrid exchanged a glance before the former nodded. “Yeah, that about sums it up. We figure they’re after Jay, because of the flash drive Astrid told you about.”



“The Red list.” I nodded grimly. “Understandable. I assume he wiped your name off it and didn’t bother to do it for us?”



Astrid’s guilty face said it all, and both Josh and I exhaled loudly. “Typical,” I groaned, my stomach feeling sick all over again at the thought of Jay Nicholson with the Red list. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”



Laughing, Josh clapped me on the shoulder, which hurt more than I expected. “Welcome home, Charlie,” he said. “Would you expect it to be any other way?”







It was harder to adapt to life again than I had anticipated it to be. Astrid made a brave effort to make it look like she wasn’t going to burst into tears every time she looked at me, which bewildered me so much that we ended up just avoiding each other. This hurt much more than the fire that still pounded through my body, because it was seeing her that kept me going through the day, that kept me believing that maybe I wasn’t going back to that dark room after all.



Joel Nicholson scared me to death every time I saw him, because his resemblance to Jay was so incredible, with the bright blonde hair and huge blue eyes. Josh had told me that he didn’t know Jay was alive – the whole story of Delta bombing their house was hard to believe – and so I had to be careful not to call him by his brother’s name, though it was difficult. How had I known Jay for seven years and never bothered to ask him about his family?



He didn’t seem to know quite what to make of me, which was fine by me, but that didn’t stop him from asking endless questions about everything. I never knew quite how to answer them, because they were either about where I had been – which I wouldn’t discuss even with Astrid and Josh – or about Astrid, whom I didn’t want to talk about either. Seeing her was almost unbearable for me, because I wanted her to hold me and tell me those words I needed to hear, but she seemed to be almost uncomfortable around me.



I couldn’t eat much at all, which only increased Astrid’s worry, although I told her constantly that I was fine. Every time I ate more than half of what was on my plate, I ended up rushing to the bathroom to throw up in the sink, and so in the end I took to eating small portions and ignoring the looks the others tried to hide from me. Even though Josh tried to keep casual conversations going, which Astrid attempted to adhere to, I was all too aware of how tense I made the atmosphere.



Surprisingly, it was Joel that kept things together at meals. He would ramble on ceaselessly with his mouth full, about everything and anything. “So I was wondering if it’s in our budget to buy a basketball – do they even play basketball in London? Because I’m really, really behind on the season, and you know, providing we even get back, I figure I gotta keep practicing for college. And what would Emily think if I did come back and I couldn’t even do a layup? I don’t know where I’d practice, though…”



I found it extremely difficult to keep up with his rapid-fire monologues, and apparently the bafflement showed on my face, because Josh would often have to hide his face in his napkin to keep from laughing out loud. Later he told me that the kid had ADD, which made everything a whole lot clearer, and I had to admit that I was grateful for the distraction he brought; it kept me from my thoughts.



Nights were the worst. I had managed to convince Josh that I was fine with sleeping on the couch, as there were only two beds in his room and I neither wanted to sleep in the same room with nor make Joel sleep on the couch. So I spent the night drowning in the bedclothes, often waking up in the middle of the night to find myself on the floor because the couch was so unnaturally comfortable that I had trouble adjusting to it. In the still darkness of the room, I found that fear rising again and had to force myself to understand that I was safe now, that everything was going to be fine.



All in all, it really wasn’t surprising that by the thirtieth, I was going stir-crazy. Stuck in the safe house began to feel like being in that dark room all over again, even though here I was secure and with people I knew. I jumped at every unexpected noise and paced the floor until Josh finally got fed up and told Astrid that he was taking me to the grocery store to stock up. She agreed readily enough, telling us to be careful.



“Do you have a gun?” I asked Josh, and he looked briefly surprised before handing me one of his extras. It felt good to have one in my hands again, security in the crudest of forms, and I made sure it was easily accessible in my jacket pocket as I closed the door of the safe house behind me firmly.



It was still cold, although the snow seemed to have decided to stop, and so I flipped up the collar of my jacket and shoved my hands in my pockets as we walked. The clothes I was wearing were stiff and uncomfortable, either a bit too big or a bit too small, found in the closet in Josh and Joel’s room, but they were better than the t-shirt and jeans I had worn for three months straight, so I wasn’t complaining.



“Sorry about all that,” said Josh after a moment, jerking his head back towards the safe house. “I know they’re probably driving you up the wall. Astrid’s just really worried about you, and Joel – well – he doesn’t really know what’s going on.”



I shrugged, trying to find a way to ask the question that had been nagging at me. “When I was, you know, gone…so Astrid was really scared?” I could feel Josh watching me but didn’t meet his eyes, looking at the concrete beneath my feet, a defensive answer already on my tongue in case he laughed. But he was quiet for a moment, and when he did laugh, it was light and thoughtful, not at my expense.



“Charlie, I’ve never seen her so scared.” And as I glanced at him, “And I’m telling the truth. I came back from France at the end of October and she was still a mess from, well, everything. She couldn’t even talk about you without breaking down.” Heat was growing in my face; I wished I hadn’t asked at all. But Josh was still talking. “And then when she found you and you were sick – man, I was so scared, but she was just beside herself.” He looked at me for a long moment, his face serious. “You’re her best friend, you know.”



I shrugged again, embarrassed. “Don’t be stupid. You’ve known her since birth.”



“Okay,” he amended his opinion. “Maybe. But you definitely mean something to her – you could see it in her face. I don’t want to say what, but, well…”



My fingers were clenching into fists; the topic was straying a little too close to something I didn’t want to bring up. Josh seemed to sense this, falling silent for another block before he said quietly, “So how are you, Charlie? And I mean really. Don’t give me any crap about being okay, because I know you’re not.” And as I hesitated, “Look, I’m supposed to be your friend. You’re allowed to tell me these things. I won’t tell Astrid, I promise.”



Avoiding his eyes, I focused on the horizon of buildings and clouds in front of us, inhaling the sharp, cold air and thinking hard. Josh waited as I struggled with myself, pride fighting the need to tell someone. I knew that I should tell him; he was right, he was my friend and I should have been able to trust him, but the dark hand grasping my heart kept me from thinking rationally.



“I’m…I’ve been better,” I said at last, and Josh exhaled slowly.



“Okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.” There was understanding in his voice, but also quiet disappointment, and I was wrenched with sudden guilt that loosened my tongue.



“Josh –” I turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, I want to tell you, but –” I took a deep breath as the pain began to return, crowding my veins. “But thank you. For everything you did. Keeping Astrid safe and watching over her…and what you did for me. Astrid told me – keeping everyone sane and getting me to the doctor and everything.”



“Of course.” He looked slightly self-conscious, waving this off. “It’s not like I was gonna let you sit there and die, bro. I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me, unless you find out someday that I broke your iPod last August…”



“Dude!” Now I was smiling again, and relief showed on his face as I swiped at his head playfully. “Not cool! You’re definitely buying me another one – do you know how many songs I had on that thing?”



Laughing with a mixture of amusement and relief, he whined, “But do you know how much money those things are nowadays? Delta’s paycheck isn’t that hefty, bro.” He grinned and held up both hands in surrender. “I’ll find you one on eBay, chill. We could always get one on the black…market…” His voice trailed away, eyes narrowing slightly, and I wheeled around with a sudden clench of panic to see what he was looking at.



A man across the street was walking into a normal-looking building, his hands jammed into the pockets of a black coat. A sign outside proclaimed it to be The Pub Froggy, which seemed innocent enough, if a little strange. It was definitely not the best place in town, which wasn’t surprising either, as we were hardly in the best part of town, but suddenly Josh was nervous, pulling his phone out of his pocket with a frown.



“Charlie,” he said slowly, his finger darting across the screen. “We’re in for a little change of plans.”



“What is it?” I asked, a little more sharply than I intended, and he met my eyes.



“Nothing to be concerned about,” he said quickly, noting my grip on my gun. “It’s just that I know that guy, and he wants to talk to us. He just texted me.” He began walking across the street casually, sticking his hands back into his pockets and gesturing for me to follow suit. Confused, I walked at his side, resisting the urge to look around.



“So who is he and why does he want to talk to me? Do I know him?”



Josh glanced at me. “Well, indirectly you do. At least, he knows you, and you’ve known him in the past. And I don’t know why he wants to talk to us; that’s why we’re following him, to find out.”



“Well, that wasn’t cryptic,” I grumbled, but my curiosity was spiked, and so despite the bad feeling I had about all of it, I followed Josh into the bar as he leaned against the door and walked in with a blasé air.



It was fairly crowded, considering it was early evening, and the sound of chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the blare of TV sets filled the dense air. There wasn’t too much space, as it was a relatively small building, and I began to feel slightly claustrophobic, my hands balled into sweaty fists in my pockets. Josh glanced at me as he walked up to the bar casually and ordered two drinks. Handing me one, he jerked his head in the direction of the back of the room, and we headed there.



“So when do we meet your friend?” I asked, leaning against the wall because I felt too jumpy to sit down. Josh sank down into a chair at the small table in front of me, tilting it back on two legs as he sipped his beer and looked around.



“He’ll come to us. Give it a moment.”



I didn’t want to wait there very long but nodded anyway, drinking from the glass to calm my nerves; I couldn’t tell what it was about the place that made me so nervous, but I felt similar to a caged tiger. After several minutes, a tall, dark-haired man strolled over to us with one hand in his pockets and the other grasping a drink, ice-blue eyes scanning me briefly before he greeted Josh with:



“Good to see you two out and about. Feeling better?”



Realizing this was to me, I said, “Yeah, thanks. Who exactly are you…?”



A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth and his hand came out of its pocket to be proffered in my direction. “Agent Hans Wulf of Delta. I’m the one that was with Josh in France, turned up here to track you guys, ended up bringing you to the doctor.”



“Oh.” Digesting this, I looked at his hand for a long moment before reaching out slowly to shake it. “Well – thank you, then. I guess I owe you my life.”



He shrugged. “It’s nothing. I also taught you some martial arts stuff a few years ago, if that helps you trust me a little more.”



Hesitating, I thought back. Truthfully, I had had so many instructors over the years that they tended to blur together. But then I remembered the agent who had taught me the Korean hand-to-hand combat skills and looked a little more closely at Wulf. “Okay,” I agreed after a few seconds, “yeah, I recognize you. Thanks again.”



“Yeah, like I said – it was nothing.” Wulf offered an arrogant grin and pulled out the second chair from the table, sitting down on it and facing Josh with a more serious look. “Don’t you think you need to be more careful? I mean, walking around in public didn’t do you much good last time.” And as Josh looked annoyed, “I’m not trying to yell at you, I’m trying to help you stay safe. Are Astrid and the kid still at the safe house?”



“Yeah…” Josh moved his wrist in a circular motion, swirling his drink. He wouldn’t meet Wulf’s eyes, glancing over at me as he took a deep breath and said, “Look, I appreciate your concern and everything, and I know I asked you for help, and thanks for helping Charlie and everything, but – well, I think we can take it from here.”



A long silence ensued. Wulf sat quietly, no anger or confusion on his face, just looked at Josh with an appraising expression. After a moment, he exhaled loudly, reaching up with one hand to run a hand through his short dark hair. Josh looked uncomfortable, staring at the table and sipping at his drink in an effort to appear unconcerned. I watched Wulf’s face, knowing that I wasn’t really part of this, as I barely knew who he was, while he and Josh were clearly supposed to be on good terms.



At last Wulf said, “Okay, I understand. No, I’m not mad,” as Josh bit his lip, “I would feel the same way. But I hope you still intend to keep in touch? I mean, I could pick up on something you would want to know. And vice versa.”



“Of course,” said Josh, looking relieved. “I just feel like we need to actually start doing something. And it’s dangerous for both of us for you to be in contact with me.”



Wulf snorted, dismissing this with a wave of one hand. “Don’t worry about that; I think I got that covered.”



“You’re not the one with an AWOL after you,” I put in darkly, and both of them looked at me as though they had forgotten I was there. After three months of not being around, I found it a little strange to be on the outside of things, and the barely-restrained irritation on Wulf’s face made that feeling increase. This wasn’t my ground.



“You can trust me. But maybe you’re right, maybe we shouldn’t keep in touch that often. Has Young been tracking your phone, kid?” He had already dismissed me, turning back to Josh, and I felt a flicker of annoyance at his attitude, attempting to squash it by raising the glass once again. Josh shrugged.



“I suppose not, or he would’ve found us, right?”



“True…” Wulf tapped the side of his glass with a thoughtful expression, his eyes roaming the bar, and then he frowned. “I’m slipping.”



Josh looked at him blankly. “What?”



“I almost forgot to tell you…” He was suddenly more tensed, his back straightening as if poised to sprint away. “Young might not be tracking you, but you do have a little shadow. Or not so little, really. He came into the bar a little while after you did – sitting over there in the corner; don’t look! – and his only movements have been to look over here. He’s with two other guys.”



Josh couldn’t look discreetly, as his back was turned to them, but I looked over their heads to see into that small, dark corner – and then I choked on my drink, almost dropping the glass as I sprayed beer all over the surprised Wulf and Josh. My heart shot up to maximum speed, my breathing suddenly hard and fast, sweat pooling in my palms, my spine tingling. Wulf was frowning, Josh looked concerned, but their faces swam before me as I took a gulp of my drink in an effort to remain calm, half of it splashing down my front.



“What?” Josh’s voice was low and urgent. “What is it?”



My mouth opened to reply but no words came out. Josh began to stand up, but I gestured for him to sit down, my mind beginning to blank. I raised the glass to my lips again, my hand shaking so violently that the liquid inside sloshed against the sides, and my eyes were inexplicably drawn back to that corner, to him. As I took another drink, his head moved suddenly to one side, and then he was looking directly at me, a smile unfurling slowly on his swarthy features as I froze, transfixed.



I couldn’t hear his words or even see his lips move, but his thought was plain enough, because it was burned into my memory like a brand:



You can run, you can try to hide, but know this – I will always find you.



A great roaring filled my ears, everything seemed to have blanked; Josh and Wulf were both saying something, their mouths moved but no sound hit my ears. Suddenly that pain that came from my wrists and spread throughout my body was back. My stomach seemed to swell, bile rising in my throat, and now the glass dropped from my nerveless hand, shattering into a hundred tiny, sharp pieces on the cold floor. Josh jumped up and cried out in shock, but I spun away from him, crashing against the wall painfully.



Stumbling, barely able to stand upright, I pushed open the door to a bathroom a few feet away, moving inside and pressing myself against the wall. My breath was rough and jagged, bellowing in my ears as I closed my eyes tightly as if it would make all of this – him – disappear from the building. My head spun crazily and my stomach churned; I barely made it to the sink before I was throwing up the beer and what little I had eaten for lunch hours ago.



When my vision stopped swimming, I turned away from the sink and collapsed against the wall to my left, clutching my hair with both hands and panting. Get control, I told myself savagely, clawing at the paper towel dispenser and wiping my mouth. My forehead was sleek with sweat, dotting the paper towel as I began taking deep breaths to calm myself. A noise to my right made me jump, and my head whipped in that direction to see Josh with the door of the bathroom closing behind him.



“Who is he?” he asked quietly, with a look on his face that I couldn’t read.



I took a moment to collect my thoughts, staring at the wall. “Finn,” I replied finally, and it came out choked. “He – he knows me.”



Josh was silent for a moment, so that I knew he understood, and then he said, not in an uncaring way, “You’re really afraid of him, aren’t you?”



Leaning my head back against the wall, I exhaled slowly, my eyes moving to the ceiling so that I didn’t have to look him in the face. “Don’t tell Astrid.”



Astrid. Immediately my stomach crumpled again and my palms flattened against the wall as if to support my body; my knees felt weak. Josh was saying something about how he promised he wouldn’t, but I barely heard him. Again that other voice filled my mind, bringing back the dark room and the confusion and the pain, his words drifting through my ears over and over again until I knew them verbatim. What he was going to do to her when she was finally found, how I could do nothing about it, how much he would hurt her.



“Astrid,” I gasped, and Josh’s concerned face swam before me. “We have to get back to the safe house –”



“Hey.” Josh stepped forward, grasping my wrists as I tried to walk, shoving me back against the wall firmly. “Calm down. Astrid will be fine – there’s no way he can find the safe house, okay? I promise. You’re the one we need to worry about. We’re going to get out of here, do you hear me?”



“You don’t understand.” His voice was still whispering in my ears, taunting me, and I was shaking so hard that Josh’s arms were moving as well. “He’s going to find her; he’s going to hurt her. I can’t let him –”



“Hey,” said Josh again, more vehemently this time. “Listen to me. He’s not going to do anything; Wulf’s watching him. Take a deep breath.”



Obediently, I inhaled and closed my eyes for a moment, forcing myself to think rationally. When I opened them again, Josh stepped back, releasing his hold on my wrists as he looked at me warily. Beginning to feel a little self-conscious, I straightened, moving away from the wall and pushing my hair out of my eyes.



“You okay now?”



I nodded, and at that moment the bathroom door opened. Instinct took over: My hand drew my gun from my pocket faster than I would most likely be able to do consciously, pointing it in the direction of the newcomer as my entire body tensed all over again. The Delta agent put his hands up slowly, his eyes moving cautiously from the gun to my face to Josh, who had jumped forward to grab my hand and pull it down.



“Charlie! You can’t just pull a gun on someone!” His eyes were wide and slightly exasperated. “What if that had been some innocent guy?”



My heart pounding, I returned the gun to my pocket. “You could pretend I’m drunk.”



“Is he?” said Wulf to Josh in a low voice, and I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so on edge. The agent looked a little spooked, considering he probably had guns pulled on him at least once a week. Josh did laugh, shaking his head, and the other man looked relieved. “I just thought you might like to know – that guy and his cronies left.”



“What?” Instantly the gun was back in my hand and I was pushing past Josh to get to the door. “Then he’s going to the safe house!”



“Whoa, buddy.” Wulf grabbed my shoulders and pinned me against the wall; I discovered to my embarrassment that my struggling was no match for his strength. “Not so fast. I watched them go, naturally, and they got into a car and drove off. In the opposite direction.”



Josh’s grin was falsely cheery. “Well, that’s good then, right?”



But I had sunk to the floor, the gun clattering down uselessly beside me as I crouched with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, despair seeping through me. Josh was saying my name again worriedly and Wulf was asking what was going on, but I ignored them, thinking only of the Portuguese and that dark, dark room. He hadn’t come to take me away after all, nor even to find out where we were staying. No, he had come to leave a much stronger message, one that I heard long and clear.



See? You can’t hide from me. I will always be able to find you. And her.



He had just come to prove his words.