Lust (16 page)

“I'm glad you gave him this much of a chance,” she said. “And so far, so good, right?”

“Yes,” Tom said. “Yes, you were right about sticking to the plan. I'm just—”

“I know. He did a lot of terrible things. It's really, really hard to trust a man who tried to murder his own brother. But the brain's chemistry operates in
mysterious ways. You're probably wise to be cautious at this point. I just have to say that so far, he seems nothing but sincere to me.”

“Keep in mind that he's a true chameleon when he needs to be,” Tom said. “It wasn't so long ago that he was still wreaking havoc. Let's not forget, he wouldn't have had to rescue me if he hadn't sent me to Siberia in the first place.”

“Well, we don't know that he did that for sure,” Gaia said. “Let's not forget, he was in a coma the night you choked. That's what we were celebrating, if you recall.”

“Yes, well, I'm not entirely convinced that that's what happened.” Tom said.

“Well, you gotta feel for the guy,” Gaia said, pushing her seat into recline mode. “I've been working really closely with him. It's not that he doesn't remember his old life. He remembers everything, and he has to deal with all the terrible things he's done. A normal person might kill himself if he woke up to find he'd destroyed the lives of everyone close to him. But instead of running away, Oliver's trying to make amends. It doesn't fix things, but it counts for something, don't you think?”

Tom's answer was a long, light snore. Gaia had to laugh. Well, of course. He hadn't slept in days. He had just survived a brutal prison experience. They were all exhausted.

She adjusted his fake goatee, sticking the moustache part more firmly onto his face. She was just so glad to have him back. If only she didn't have one last, horrible task to perform.

She had to break his heart.

Nothing
is ever what you expect it to be.

On the flight over here, I thought I'd be a wreck. I wasn't sure if my dad was even alive. I was anxious and nervous, yet I was enjoying myself. What was it? Anticipation? Hope? Looking forward to a big adventure? I remember talking to Oliver and being amazed at everything he said. Amazed that we were connecting on such a deep level. I was happy, I guess. Even with all the tension and worry, I was happy.

Now everything is okay. Dad is alive, and I've gotten him out of Siberia. We're heading home. When I dreamed of this trip, I imagined it would feel like a twelve-hour-long sigh of relief. Instead, it feels like slow suffocation. As devastated and betrayed as I felt when I found out about Natasha and Tatiana, Dad's going to feel worse. Much worse. Because he loved Natasha. And he left me with her. When he
finds out she was a double agent, he's not just going to be heartbroken: He's going to feel guilty. And there's nothing I can do to stop him from feeling that way. I have my dad back, and I feel terrible.

How is that possible?
This
is supposed to be the happy trip.
That
one was supposed to be the tense trip. It's like the whole world has flip-flopped. For all I know, we're flying upside-down through Opposite World.

But there it is: The arms he thinks he's coming home to have been taken away in handcuffs. I've got to tell him, and I really don't want to.

God, I am such a coward. Maybe I can't feel fear, but engaging in emotional confrontation is my idea of terror.

I hope he sleeps the whole way back.

I
know Gaia's father has been in a prison and that he's been drugged. And Gaia told me a little bit about how her uncle Oliver used to be a total asshole. I mean, I didn't get all the details, but she definitely hinted at some very dark stuff. Still, it seems like her dad could be a little more grateful.

I've never seen anything like this trip. Everything was orchestrated perfectly, and even when things went wrong, Oliver figured out a solution with lightning speed. I don't see how anyone could doubt the guy's sincerity.

Don't get me wrong: I'm sure there's a good reason for all the bad blood. But from where I'm sitting, it seems like someone as smart and sharp as Gaia's dad could read this guy and see something good in him. I mean, Gaia herself isn't exactly the trusting type. How long did I have to wait around before I could even get her to talk to me? Yet she
managed to find some common ground with Oliver. Enough to get herself here.

Not that it's any of my business. But when I peek across at the other side of the plane, I see Gaia watching her dad sleep, and there's so much love in the way she looks at him. More than that. Much as I think she'd hate to admit it, I think Gaia idolizes her dad. And I just hope the guy deserves it. I hope he knows something I don't, and that the hostile feelings he has toward Oliver are based in reality.

Oliver's an amazing man. I could see myself learning a lot from him. If he's done something beyond forgiveness, I don't want to know. There's too much to learn.

Poof

TOM BLINKED AND OPENED HIS
eyes. Looking down, he could see New York off in the distance. He had slept for ten straight hours. He looked to his right. Gaia was awake, and she was smiling at him.

“I was out,” he said.

“How do you feel?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Much more like myself,” he said. “Much better.” She handed him a small bottle of water and he drained it. Its refreshing coolness gave him an extra charge. He sat up and stretched.

“I was having the most fantastic dream,” he said. “We were already home, and redoing that last dinner before I got kidnapped. Only this time it wasn't interrupted. I can't wait to get home.”

“Uh, Dad . . .” Gaia's face fell.

“What's wrong?”

“I have to tell you something.”

Tom was silent. He could tell it was bad news. Something Gaia was afraid to tell him, that was plain enough.

“Something happened to Natasha,” he said. “Someone did something to her.”

“Not exactly,” Gaia said. “God, this is hard. I don't know how to start. . . . I started feeling suspicious when someone shot at me one night in a Ukrainian church. I was supposed to be meeting someone there.”

“Shot at you!” Tom gripped Gaia's arm.

“I'm fine,” she soothed him. “I got out of there. But after that, I tried to figure out who had set me up. Eventually, all the clues seemed to point closer to home than I would have liked.”

“You're not saying—”

“I searched the apartment. Natasha and Tatiana's apartment. And I found a gun. The same gun that someone shot at me.”

“It was planted. It was a plant.”

“No. I hoped so, too. But then Dmitri helped me set up a sting. I let them think I'd be alone at a vacant lot in Brooklyn, and they showed up . . . and tried to . . .” Gaia's voice trailed off.

“You can't be serious.”

“They tried to kill me, dad. Tatiana almost got away. And Natasha . . .” She couldn't look at him. “Natasha said horrible things. About us. About you.”

“Natasha?”

Gaia stole a peek at her dad's face, then immediately wished she hadn't.

“I'm sorry. It's true. The CIA came and took them to jail. I had to make a deal with Tatiana to find out where you were—now that I found you, I have to call to let them know they can be jailed together. But they both admitted it. Proudly. They weren't who we thought they were.”

Tom's face folded into a tight, closed-up package.

“But we're still a family,” she said.

He didn't move.

“You and me. We have each other. Not that that's the same. But it's something.”

His eyes closed. He nodded slowly. “Of course,” he said. “Yes. We have each other.”

But Gaia had blown out a candle, and Tom's soul was dark as a result. Any idiot could see that.

Poof.

And it was Gaia's words, the ribbon of air coming out of her mouth, that had done this to him.

Diarrhea-Hire Rush

THERE ARE CERTAIN THINGS A KID
should never have to do—even a kid who's been on her own since she was twelve. And breaking her father's heart is one of them. Gaia stood outside herself and watched, her gut melting with the pain of it, as her father stared straight ahead. Behind his impassive face, she knew he was flicking through his Rolodex of memories, reliving every moment with Natasha, then smacking himself with the reality that each kiss, each kind word, each loving gesture had been a cold, empty lie. Trying to wrap his mind around the staggering loss. And it was Gaia's words, the ribbon of air coming out of her mouth, that had done this to him, choked off the only good thing in his life. Dug up the seedling of the future that he'd nurtured.

Their little hopes for a normal family had been blown apart in one tiny conversation, whispered from the aisle seat to the window seat.

The worst part was that no matter how hard she tried, Gaia couldn't soften the blow. She was so goddamned clumsy with her words, she felt like she had made it worse. When she fought, everything made sense, she could measure her strength to that of her opponent. But this? Words? Feelings? She couldn't control how hard they hit or how they made someone
feel. She'd had chance after chance on this long trip, and she had put it off so long that the information had just come out in a diarrhea like rush. Gaia hated herself.

“Dad?” she asked, lamely. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” he said. He looked down, avoiding her face, as he unbuckled his seat belt. Gaia realized that the plane had landed and taxied all the way to the gate in the time she'd been in agony over this. She hadn't even noticed. She unbuckled herself and stood up. They started the long, slow shuffle to the front of the plane. In the other aisle, Oliver and Jake were making the same journey, the two men yards apart in space and miles apart in emotions. Gaia realized her father would never forgive Oliver now. He would be sure it was Oliver who'd turned Natasha against him. It was one more nail in the already-sealed coffin of their relationship.

She locked eyes with Jake and tilted her head toward the exit. He made a confused face. She eye-balled the exit again, trying to indicate to him that he should take Oliver and get him into a separate cab. She didn't know how upset her dad would be. She didn't want a confrontation in the airport. But it was no use. She just looked like a head-bobbing, eye-rolling idiot. Jake just shrugged, and Gaia stopped to tie her shoe so they would at least be forced to leave the plane first.

Out in the airport, Oliver and Jake waited for them. Tom walked slowly, his head bent toward the floor. Gaia approached them.

“I was thinking, we'd probably better split up. There isn't enough room at the Seventy-second Street apartment for all of us; you can stay with Oliver in Brooklyn till he decides it's safe for you to go home. Does that make sense?”

Her words hung in the air. Jake and Oliver looked curiously at Tom, who gave them the super-poker face. He stood there like a pillar of concrete.

“We'll see you soon?” Oliver asked. He directed his question toward Gaia, ostensibly, though he was looking at his brother.

“Sure. Sure, we will. After everyone gets settled in and rested,” Gaia said, taking her father's arm.

Oliver, sensing that this would be the wrong time to force a brotherly moment, turned away, heading for the doors to the taxi stand. Jake hesitated and looked at Gaia.

She looked back.

“I'll call you?” he asked.

“Definitely,” she said quickly.

“Not because I'm getting ideas,” he said.

“Of course not. Just to hang out.”

“Right.” He nodded.

The block of concrete to her left was no help. Gaia felt as awkward and exposed as a fresh septum-piercing. The truth was, she was the one with
ideas. About Jake. Serious ideas. And that was the last thing she needed: more romantic entanglements. Ed, she missed terribly. He just knew how to make her laugh like no one else. And she loved him for that. And Sam . . . She wasn't sure how she felt about Sam, but it pretty much wavered between guilt and lingering love. But after this intense little adventure, she thought Jake was maybe the only guy who had ever understood her—who would ever understand her.

Yikes. She wondered whether that was good or bad. If you know there's nobody out there who can understand you, you've always got a buffer zone, something they can't penetrate. But if you think someone actually
does
get your inner workings . . . you set yourself up for danger.

Being alone seemed like the obvious solution.

Except that when she was alone, she was miserable.

I've
never wanted to hug someone so much in my whole life. The last few days have been so intense. I swear, Gaia and I lived a lifetime together. She told me so much about herself—more than she's ever told anyone, I'm sure of that. That's a huge deal. And a huge responsibility. I just wish there was some way I could tell her I understand that, and that I'm not going to let her down.

Who am I kidding? The most surefire way to make Gaia run screaming for the hills is to say that to her directly. It's probably a blessing in disguise that her dad and uncle had to split up before I could try to get my arms around Gaia—or kiss her. I need to take some time to chill out so I don't scare her off. Ease back into my regular life.

My regular life. Wow. That sounds so far away. I guess a lot of people would feel as if they couldn't wait to get back to some
old familiar ground, but I just want to tell this cab to turn around and go back to the airport so I can get on another plane. I've heard that war reporters get addicted to adrenaline and can't function if they're not trying to type on their laptops while they're dodging bullets. I think I understand them. I'm never going to be regular again. I'll do what I have to do—bide my time, keep my grades up, train until my body's a perfect weapon—but I'm going to do this again. And again and again. Maybe I'll join the CIA, or some other spy organization I don't even know about. I'll have to do my research. But I'm never going to be Regular Guy.