Page 76 of Delta

And here we are, on a damned train again.

Barcelona. Sunny, hot, and beautiful.

It's hard to enjoy it, though—for the last few hours, I've had a gnawing sense of unease in my gut. At first I thought we were being followed, but I've used every trick I know to spot a tail and haven't seen the same person twice in our hours of playing tourist. So it's not that.

I ask Bryn if she feels anything weird, and she just shrugs and says no, for once she's feeling hopeful.

I can't fucking shake it.

Finally, I decide to check in with Eliza's grandparents—I have a voicemail I've set up so they can leave a message if they need to get ahold of me. I had it set up to send an alert to my mobile, but Bryn yeeted that out the window somewhere between Lyon and Lisbon.

I lead Bryn to a bench beneath a massive palm tree near the beach. "I need to check in with Eliza," I tell Bryn. "I've a bad feeling I can't shake."

I pull out the fancy mobile Alexander gave us and dial into my voicemail box, input the password. I’ve one new message.

It's Richard, Rachel's father. He's frantic, nearly incoherent—left not an hour ago. "Rush! They took her. They took her. She's gone, man, she's gone.. She's bloody gone. Eliza…oh god, oh god, she's bloody gone, Rush. Oh god, oh god."

My heart freezes solid in my chest even as incandescent rage boils in my veins. "Fuck me bloody," I snarl under my breath. "I'll bloody murder the cunt."

Bryn rears back at the savagery in my voice. "Rush? What's wrong?"

I don't answer—I can't. I dial Richard's number with a shaky finger. It rings once.

"Rush?" It's Evelyn. “Is that you, boy?"

You, boy. Fuck, I hate that phrase. I ignore that and focus. "Yeah, Ev, it's me. Tell me you've found her."

"Oh, Rush, it was awful. We were sat to lunch and these horrible men just…" she whimpers. "They crashed the door in, smashed everything to bits, and-and-and…" she pauses, sobbing. "They put guns on Richard and me, didn't they, and told us to sit down and shut up or they'd kill us slowly. They just took her, Rush. They took Eliza. Put a bloody black bag over her poor darling head and just…left with her. She was crying for you, Rush. Crying for her daddy as the men carted her away like a sack of potatoes. We couldn't do a damned thing, Rush. Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Rush. She's gone. I don't know—oh god. I don't know who or why. If it's money they want, we'll—we'll sell everything we have, I promise you we will, Rush."

"Ev, Ev—stop!" I have to shout to get her to shut up and take a breath. “It's not your fault, Evelyn, it's mine. This is about me. You've done nothing wrong."

"What's it about, Rush? What've you done? Don't those bloody monsters know she's a dying child?"

Hot bile rises in my throat, presses against my teeth. I can't answer, can't breathe—I shove the mobile at Bryn and stagger to the nearby trash bin and vomit into it.

When I return to the bench, Bryn is speaking. "…promise you we will do everything that can be done to bring her back safely. I know you don't know me, ma'am, but I come from a very wealthy and powerful family. We will move heaven and earth for that girl."

The rage, guilt, horror, and worry are a tangled knot in my throat, making me dizzy. Fuck, not another goddamned panic attack—I'm outside myself, almost, observing me having the mother of all panic attacks. All the ones that have come before seem like the mini-quakes that come before the big one that brings down skyscrapers. It feels like a heart attack.

"—eathe…Rush. Breathe. In through your nose." I hear her voice, see her face wobbling and blurry.

The ground is hard under my hands and knees, grit sticking to my palms. An ant crawls at the edge of my vision.

Why did I think he wouldn't do this? What kind of a fool am I that I didn't take precautions to keep my girl safe?

He'll do horrible things to her just to fuck with me, to hurt me. He probably doesn't even want anything from me, he just wants me to suffer.

"No, no, no," Bryn says, and I realize I've been talking aloud, ranting. "She'll be okay. You'll see. We'll get her back."

"You don't know him, not like I do."

Instead of arguing, she rings the sole contact in the sat phone. "Uncle Lear, hi. Not good, unfortunately. No, I'm fine. But my—Rush, his daughter. Pugli took her, Lear. From London, right, Rush?"

I shake my head. “No, erm…South—Southampton."

"You hear? Yeah, okay. We're in Barcelona. What do we do, Lear? She's sick. She's dying of cancer. YES! Exactly—that's exactly the kind of monster this motherfucker is. He kidnapped a dying six-year-old girl to get at Rush and me. I know I caused this whole situation, but—" she sniffles. "I need everyone, Lear. Fucking everyone. I don't care what it takes. I'll answer for it. Yes, it's my fucking fault! I ran away. I stuck my nose in shit that had nothing to do with me. I caused all of this. Call in fucking EVERYONE. And let me put this as plainly as I can—Roberto Pugli dies. We don't stop until I personally see his fucking corpse with my own two eyes." A pause. "Yes, perfect. Have Dad call me. Thanks, Uncle Lear. Yeah, love you too. Bye."

Less than thirty seconds later, the mobile is burbling, and she answers it. "Hi, Daddy. Yes, I'm fine. No, I’m not—Dad, listen. No, you don't understand—SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO ME, GODDAMMIT!" She lets out a harsh breath. "Pugli kidnapped Rush's daughter…she’s six. No, her mother died. Dad, Jesus, stop with the irrelevant questions. She's got leukemia and that fucking evil monster had her kidnapped out of her home. YES! Exactly. Sick or not, he stole a child. Yeah, that's what I fucking thought. And if you won't mobilize literally every asset we can field, I'll hunt him down and murder him myself or I'll die trying. Yes, I mean fucking EVERYONE, Dad. The uncles. Cuddy. Raze's crew. Call in every favor you're owed. I'll do whatever it takes to cover the cost—no, I just…it's my fault, Dad. Yes, it is!"