Page 30 of Delta (Alpha #12)

She shrugs. "Kill Pugli. Go home."

I growl. "Still pissed that the fucker had a vest. Shoulda put ‘em in his fucking forehead, but he was a good distance away and I didn't want to miss. Won't get that chance again." I shake my head. “He didn't plan beyond deactivating the tracker?"

She eyes me, shrugging again. "That's step one."

I feel my heart sink. "Meaning you don't trust me with the rest."

She stares at me. "And why should I, Rush? You fucking sold me for a goddamned pittance. If I knew why, I might understand. I don't think you did it maliciously, and I believe it wasn't about the money. But if you won't tell me the fucking truth, what am I supposed to believe?"

My tongue is adhered to the roof of my mouth—I couldn't speak if I wanted to, and I don't want to. I don't dare trust anyone else with that secret. Not even Bryn.

She shakes his head, hissing in disgust. "Fine. Just put me on a bus to Lisbon and go fuck yourself."

"I'll drive you," I rasp.

"I don't fucking want you to."

"Too bad."

We're rounding a curve, going fairly slow, but still fast enough that I panic when she shoves open her door and unbuckles.

"Pull over," she snaps.

"No, Jesus. Shut the fucking door, you daft bitch!"

"I know how to tuck and roll, Rush. I swear to fucking god I’ll jump out of this car and you can explain to my dad what happened to me."

I jam the brakes and haul the wheel over. We skid to a halt on the shoulder. Bryn is out of the car before it's even stopped, marching furiously away from the highway toward the rooftops in the distance to the east.

I get out and jog after her. "Bryn, wait!"

"Fuck off, Rush."

"Just wait! God, just fuckin' wait a goddamn second!" I jog past her, turn and grab her shoulders.

She does a hold-break move followed by a viciously hard shove that sends me stumbling backward several steps. "Do not fucking touch me." She flips me off with both hands, thumbs out, putting her hands directly into my face, spitting snarled words. "You can fuck all the way off, love .”

"Bryn, just—"

"You're a liar , Rush. You used me." She shakes her head, holds both hands up.

"This isn't about the sex, by the way. I knew going in that it was casual.

I was and am fine with that. We were in a whole…

situationship. I'm not mad because we fucked.

I'm a big girl and I knew what I was getting into before I jumped into bed with you. "

"Bryn, I—" I can't find words to explain anything I’m thinking or feeling. "I ain't good at this shit."

"What, telling the truth? Being forthcoming about literally any thing?"

"Yes. Well, no. Talking about myself."

"Try." She takes a step toward me. "I hope you see that I’m trying really fucking hard to give you a chance, here. I like you. I may or may not have felt something for you at some point. I don't want this to be the situation we're in, but it is. And you did it. You put us here."

The panic I've been refusing to let myself feel starts to take over, like it or not. I know the signs; I’ve been here before.

My hands start to tremble. My lungs get tight and hot, and I can't take a full breath. Racing thoughts. Narrowed and blurred vision.

No, no, no. Not now. Not here. Not in front of her.

Fuck!

I turn away from her and go back to the car. Sit behind the wheel, let my forehead thump against the wheel. Grip it in shaking, tingling hands. Try to breathe slowly like Dr. Parvati told me: in for four, hold it for seven, out for eight. Repeat. Repeat.

Focus on the world around me, sensations: the peeling leather of the steering wheel in my hands. The emergency flashers tick-tick-tick-ticking. The blue sky through the windshield.

"Rush?" Her voice comes from a million miles away.

I shake my head. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

"Panic attack?" she asks. I nod my head against the steering wheel.

I hear the other door open. Her hand is soft on my forearm—she slides her hand down my arm and laces her fingers in mine.

In a soft, low, beautiful voice, she sings a lullaby—I can't focus on the words or recognize the melody, but it's soothing.

Slowly, my breathing calms and the panic gradually recedes.

When I feel more normal, I look at her. "Thanks," I croak.

She leans closer. Touches her forehead to mine. "Rush, just talk to me."

I swallow hard. "Six years ago, I was in London on leave.

I'd just gotten back from a really bad stint in Afghanistan. Lost my best mate." I tug at my leather jacket. "The one who gave me this. Arjun. Went through training with him, made the SAS teams with him. Got assigned to the same unit. Fought with him. Bled with him. Did everything with him. He was the brother I’ve never had, and he—he…he fuckin' died in front of me. Stray round to the fucking face. No sense in it. Alive one second and dead the next. Wasn’t even a firefight. Just some fuckin’ asshole taking potshots at us.”

"I'm sorry, Rush."

"Thanks. But that's just context. I was in bad shape, mentally.

Went out with some of the lads, hit a few too many pubs, got mad pissed.

" I lean back in the seat and scrub my face with both hands, exhaling raggedly.

"Met this girl at the last pub. Rachel. Lovely girl.

Went back to her place and we…well, you know.

Didn't think much of it, just a good tumble in the sack, so I thought.

Only, I was pissed so I fell asleep in her bed.

Never done that before. And it sorta turned into a thing.

Didn't mean for it to happen. I was shipping out again and I knew it.

Had no business gettin' involved with anyone. I was just…I was fucked up, and I went and fucked up both of our lives.”

Bryn winces. "Oh dear."

“Yeah, bet you can guess where it's going?"

"Knocked her up, huh?"

I nod. "Yep. Got her up the duff." I swallow hard.

"I tried to do right by her. I sent her money while I was deployed.

Talked to her. Stayed in contact. I…I'd never fucking abandon a child.

Not like I was. I didn't abandon her—them.

I made it back to London for the birth. She, um…

we decided we weren't gonna be a thing. It was mutual, I swear. Not just me deciding it."

"I believe you."

I fucking loathe the way my eyes burn at her words.

Ignore it. Keep going—too late to stop now.

"For the first few years, I spent as much time as I could with my daughter, Eliza.

Darling girl. Sweet, beautiful. Silly. I…

" I squeeze my eyes shut. "I fucking love her so much it's mad.

Do fucking anything for her. Whenever I wasn't downrange, I was with her.

Sent her mum gobs of money. Toys. Clothes. Diapers, everything."

"Rush. What happened ? How did Pugli get involved?”

"The world is a terrible place, that's what. Rachel died. I was home with Eliza, and Rachel was out running errands. She got hit by a car. Dead on the spot."

"My god. No!"

"I had a job to do. I couldn't just…quit.

So Eliza went to live with Rachel's parents.

Good folks, overall, but they've no love for me nor me for them.

We're just different sorts of people, I guess, from totally different worlds, and we don't get along. There’s no, like, hate…we’re just totally different.

I…we have an arrangement. When I'm home, Eliza is with me full time. When I’m gone, she's with them.

We don't see each other except for pickup and dropoff, and it works for us. No drama, no mess. Easy."

"But?" she prompts.

"But then, a year and a half ago, Eliza got sick. She has an extremely rare form of leukemia."

"Rush," she breathes. "My god."

“Yeah. Chances of survival are pretty much nil.

We've tried everything. Literally. Every kind of chemo and radiation there is. Alternative therapies, eastern medicine, extreme diets. They’ve even put her under the knife trying to…

what's the fuckin' word they use? Excise, that's the one. They excised a shitload of the cancer not once or twice, but three times. I've spent every last fucking penny I've ever made trying to save her life and I’ve thrown myself to the wolves tryin’ to earn more.” I throw my head back and growl as a helpless, agonized sob catches in my throat.

"None of it—fuck. FUCK! None of it's working, Bryn. She's fuckin' dying ."

"Rush." Her voice is soft and quiet and horrified. "I had no idea. I'm so fucking sorry."

"Course you didn't, love. No one fucking knows.

Even my best mates from the service don't know about Eliza, let alone that she's sick.

Only her parents and me know. I keep her separate from the rest of my life.

" I scrub my face again. "I ain't a good man, Bryn.

I know it. I don't fuckin' lie to myself about it.

I done a lot of fucking bad shit and I'll probably do more because I’m…

back in the old days they'd have called me a blaggard. "

"Rush," she murmurs. "You're not—"

"Oh save it, Bryn. Don't let your pity for my poor innocent dyin' little girl distract you from what I done to ya."

"But Rush, I have to believe a monster like Pugli has something on you. You said you needed a very specific amount of money that Pugli was paying you for bringing me to him."