Escape (20 page)

Ed was having major problems maintaining his balance. A horrid dizziness had begun to take over. Or maybe he could just
feel
the guilt spinning around
in his head. He'd stopped them both before anything had happened, but somehow, at the moment, that didn't seem to make him feel any better.

“Oh God, Ed, please don't tell Gaia about this; I feel just
so
. . . Oh
God
—”

“Don't even think about it,” he said, leaning his hand against the wall for balance. “Just forget it, okay? It never happened. Just two very drunk drinking buddies. That's it. Never happened.”

“It never happened,” she agreed.

“Nothing
did
happen!” he reminded her. And himself.

“That's right. Nothing
did
happen.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.”

Come home, Gaia. Wherever the hell you are, just come home. Please.

“What's going on, you two?”

The next thing Ed knew, Jake was standing right behind his shoulder with the world's most annoying sly grin. “You two having a cozy ‘just friends' moment over here?”

Had Ed been even a little more sober, he would have socked Jake
straight in the mouth.
But considering Jake's rather formidable karate skills and Ed's being a walking bottle of vodka, he opted to just sock Jake with his eyes. “Nothing is ‘going on' here, Jake.” Had he actually
liked
Jake for a second earlier in the day? What a freaking joke. Gaia had it right. Jake was clearly the loser of the century. And what was up with his newfound obsession with Ed's screwed-up love life.

Tammie stepped up behind Jake, wrapping her arms around his stomach and peeking over his shoulder. “What's
up
, girl?” she squealed at Tatiana. “Are we not the party geniuses of the decade?”

“Geniuses. . . ,” Tatiana echoed, still bathed in guilt as she stared helplessly at Ed.

It's okay
, Ed wanted to tell her.
I was drunk, too. Let's just not think about it anymore. Let's not think about it ever again.

“Well, I think they're finally shutting us down here,” Jake said. “Any ideas where we can move the party? How about your place, Tatiana? Wasn't your mom going to be out all night?”

“Sure,” Tatiana said, still only half paying attention. “My place is fine.”

“Excellent!” Tammie squeaked. “I'll rally the troops! You coming, Ed?”

“Sure,” Ed snapped defensively. “Why wouldn't I come?”

Jake and Megan both widened their eyes, shifting their gaze from Ed to Tatiana and back to Ed. “Whatever,” Tammie said, sharing an infuriating little knowing smile with Jake.

It took every ounce of Ed's remaining self-discipline not to scream at them both. He wanted to scream that there was no need for their
stupid, knowing smiles.
Because there was nothing to know. Because
nothing
had happened. Nothing.

No Dream

AT FIRST SHE THOUGHT IT WAS A
dream. Gaia just hadn't expected it. After all they'd been through, after she'd explained about Ed, it just seemed like they'd put it all behind them. Or at least as if they'd silently agreed to
pretend
they'd put it all behind them.

But now, as she lay beside him in this creepy motel room. . .

Now the palm of his warm hand had just crept up on her back. And after resting there for a moment, it had slid upward and begun to caress her shoulder. This was
no dream.

She couldn't have been asleep for that long, because all he did was touch her ever so lightly. And Sam might
not have even fallen asleep for a moment. For all Gaia knew, he'd been battling in his head the entire time she'd been asleep, trying to make the right choice, trying not to let himself touch her the way he must have wanted to so badly. The way, if she was completely honest with herself, she had come awfully close to wanting to touch him, too. . .

But she couldn't go back. She couldn't let herself fall back into all that nostalgic confusion. No matter how strange and electric his touch made her feel, she knew in her heart that she wasn't going to give in to it. It was wrong, and she knew it. And she'd thought that Sam knew it, too. Maybe not.

Her entire body tensed up as his hand slid up along her neck and then into the tangles of her hair. She couldn't bring herself to say anything. She just didn't want to reject him like that. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to—that he'd pull his hand away any second and just leave it at that. She'd hoped that he could understand that whether or not those feelings were still there for her, she had to ignore them now. Because of Ed. Because of the time that had passed.
Because everything had changed.

But she couldn't wish it away. He wasn't going to stop. His other hand pressed up against her back. But this time he didn't slide it toward her shoulders. This time his hand began to slide downward. Farther and farther down her back until. . .

“Sam, don't,” she finally heard herself say. She had
to say it. Before he'd crossed that line she'd worked so very hard to be sure they didn't cross. His hands had left her with no choice but to speak up.

But her words didn't seem to matter to him now. Because he didn't stop. His hand moved even farther down. . . .

“I said
stop
.” Her eyes shot open, and she flipped around to say it to Sam's face.

Only it wasn't Sam's face.
And they weren't Sam's hands.

You scum. You repulsive lowlife scum of the earth.

All she needed was a glimpse of his black ski mask and she knew. Her mind had processed the entire disgusting scenario in a split second. She knew that Sam was nowhere to be found. She knew that this whole disgusting time, it had just been another one of
them
touching her, damn near molesting her, trying to do God knew what else to her while she
slept
.

She flipped out of the bed, bouncing up off the floor and facing the hulking son of a bitch down in the dark. So now they weren't just pond scum murderers—the kind you scraped from the bottom of your shoe. Now they were wanna-be rapists, too.

Goddamn them. They weren't done. Whoever they were, they weren't giving up. They were still on her tail—still sending in these pathetic hired thugs to take her out, no matter where she was. There couldn't be a moment's peace. Not a moment.

The only light in the room came from the glare of
the parking lot lampposts, beaming through the slight opening in the windows. She could just make out the hideous smile on his lips, framed by the circular mouth hole of his mask. He jumped off the bed and pulled a knife from his jacket, staring her down with dead eyes that were just as black as the mask.

The thought of his disgusting hands actually touching her body made her skin feel like burning sandpaper. But with one more moment to think before he made his move, the fact that those had
not
been Sam's hands touching her raised one very simple and horrifying question: Where the hell
was
Sam?

No more time for questions. He lunged, and she jumped left, letting him charge into the ugly brown wall. But when she'd moved left, she hadn't been ready for the other one. Yes, there were two of them. There were always at least two of them now. It was nice to know that whoever was out there trying to have her killed wasn't completely underestimating her. But still, considering the mood she was now in, considering the fact that this would now be the
third
attempt on her life in one day, not to mention the fact that these assholes had done something with Sam. . . she wasn't going to waste her time making this fight interesting.

These two losers in their pathetic black masks had taken the wrong assignment tonight. They simply had no idea what they had signed on for.

The second thug tried to wrap a wire around her throat
from behind, but he was about as slow as they came. She jabbed her elbow deep into his solar plexus, located his wrist in almost complete darkness, and flipped him across the tiny room. The paper-thin walls of the entire room shook as his body made a deep dent in the plaster.

She turned to the one with the knife. “What did you do with Sam?” she demanded. But his only reply was another bull-like charge with his knife pointed at her chest

Forget it
, she shouted at herself as the point of his knife flew toward her.
Forget the questions. Just get them out. Get them the hell out of here.

Gaia quickly mastered all of her boiling frustration and channeled it into a series of
deadly precise moves.

She zoomed in on the gleam of the knife in the dark and shot her leg out with a swift forward kick. The knife snapped out of the thug's hands, and then she swung around for a roundhouse kick that bashed his face hard against the wall.

“Get out!” she barked, snapping another kick to his face and another to his back. She knew it was wrong to lead with her anger, but there was simply nothing left of her self-discipline tonight. Now it was only about what would be quickest and most effective. “I'm through with this crap today. You go and tell them that. This is your one chance to leave.”

He grabbed onto her leg and toppled her to the floor, but she countered by jabbing his back with her elbow in
three spine-cracking blows.

She shot up off her shoulders, landing squarely on her feet, and trounced him with two more kicks to the back. “I'm
telling
you,” she growled. “You
want
to get out of here. Believe me. You want to get out of here
now
!”

The other one had risen back to his feet and decided it was his turn to attack. He lunged for her, but she simply sidestepped him, using all his momentum to send him crashing into his friend on the floor. They still apparently were not getting the picture. She would to have to be a bit more forceful with her point.

She spotted the knife across the room, took one bouncing step over the bed, and swiped it up off the floor. They stumbled up together and made another foolish attempt to rush her. This time simultaneously.

Good. She could make her point much quicker that way.

She wasn't going to kill them. She was simply going to give them their last warning. She bent her knees slightly as they lumbered toward her, and then, with perfectly calibrated pressure, she swiped the knife across the chest of the one on the left, shoving him quickly out of the way. Then she ducked down and swiped the knife across the leg of the other, checking him into the wall in almost the exact same spot where she had tossed him to begin with.

They both let out
rather pathetic cries
as they writhed around on the floor, holding tightly to their harmless flesh wounds. They could always dish it out so much better than they could take it.

“That was only the warning,” she spat, flashing the knife before each of their pained faces. “The next one will cut so much deeper. And the next one deeper than that. . . and the next one—”

There was no need to utter another word. Without either of them even exchanging glances, they simultaneously opted for the retreat. Gaia followed them out onto the walkway as they piled out the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges. She stood there in front of the open doorway with the knife extended, watching as they scampered out into the parking lot and then disappeared into the darkness of the road.

Gaia stood there for another ten seconds just breathing heavily with the knife at her side. And then, finally, her thoughts turned away from violence and back to the much more important matter.
Sam
. What the hell had they done with Sam?

All the ugliest possibilities began to flash before her eyes, but she wouldn't have to indulge those awful images for very long. Because Sam suddenly appeared at the end of the walkway, stepping out of the motel's office. He saw her standing in front of the door, and he smiled at her. That was it. A smile. He smiled the most innocent, nonchalant smile she had ever seen, and then he began to walk toward her.

Gaia couldn't believe it. It had happened again. She could see it in his face. He seemed to have no idea what had just happened. Somehow he had missed the
entire battle
again
. Somehow, just as it had happened at the diner that afternoon, Sam had stepped out just before the violence had begun and then stepped back in just after it had ended. What on earth were the odds of that happening
twice
in one day. . . ?

And that was really the first time it hit her. At least it was the first time it had hit her consciously.

An ugly, ugly thought. One of the ugliest thoughts she had ever had.

What
were
the odds of Sam being conspicuously absent for Gaia's attempted murder twice in one day? They were abysmal, that's what they were. They were damn near impossible.

Unless, of course,
Sam knew.
Unless he knew exactly when the attempted murders would take place.

Oddly Innocent Smile

STOP IT, GAIA. SAM IS NOT THE
enemy. Don't even think of it. It's ridiculous. You've got to stop that entire line of thinking right now.

But once the line of thinking had started, she had to take it to its logical conclusion. No one with any amount of intelligence could ignore it. And the longer she looked at Sam's
oddly
innocent smile,
the harder it was to discount.

In one lightning-quick moment the chain of unfortunate facts flashed through her head. And the longer she let the horribly paranoid theory develop, the more evidence she seemed to find to back it up.

Twice
he'd disappeared right before her attacks.
Twice
. And what had preceded the attacks both times? That look. Sam's nervous glimpse into the rearview mirror. Like he was checking for someone. Checking to make sure someone was following them and knew where to pull over. Someone, for instance, like a couple of contract killers.