Rebel (16 page)

Gaia nodded, but she didn't say anything.

Mary shook her head. It seemed so hard to believe that all the pain and lies and misery of the past year started right
there
--right at that exact moment. It was

so random, in a way. What if she'd gotten sick that night and had never gone to the club? What if Skizz hadn't been there? What if she'd refused to go off with him? What if, what if ... there were a thousand variations of the same question. Even when she was at the height of her addiction,
she used to drive herself crazy asking herself
what if.

"Needless to say, once that amazing feeling wore off, I went back for more," Mary continued. "All night long. I barely slept. I spent most of the next day crying. I didn't even know why I felt like such shit. But I had a feeling what could make me feel better." She sighed and glanced at Gaia. "I called Brian, and we hooked up with Skizz the very next night."

"And pretty soon Brian fell out of the picture," Gaia murmured. "Right?"

Mary nodded sadly. It was amazing how Gaia could see so much without having to be told. "I don't even know what happened to him. He just disappeared. You know what the crazy thing is? My parents were really psyched that he was gone. They thought I'd snapped out of a terrible, rebellious phase. They had no idea of the truth."

"But they do now,"Gaia stated. "That's all that matters."

"Yeah, but ..." Mary shook her head. She wished she could repeat Gaia's words with the same conviction. But she knew she couldn't. "The problem is, the demons don't go away that easily. They're always right

there, right around the corner." Her voice fell to a whisper. "When things get bad, I still think about it--"

"Anytime that happens, call me," Gaia interrupted firmly. "I mean it. I don't care what time it is or where you are or anything. Just call me. I'll come." Her tone softened a little. "I'll come and kick those demons' asses."

Mary tried to return the smile. Her eyes began to smart. A tight knot grew in her throat. What had she done to deserve a friend like Gaia? How could she ever pay her back?

Actually ... there might be a way.

Yes. She could do for Gaia what Gaia had done for her. She could help Gaia confront her
own
demons. Gaia couldn't go on keeping her entire past a secret. It wasn't healthy. Mary had known all along that something was eating at her friend, slowly destroying her. Everything pointed to it. Her eagerness to fight, her cocky attitude, her reluctance to get close to other people ... they were all symptoms of something tragic, lurking just under the surface. And no matter how much fun she and Gaia had together, Gaia never lost that aura of wistful sadness--as if she were somehow certain that bad times were never far away.

So it was time for Gaia to tell the truth. And Mary would have to help her.

But she would have to be crafty.
Crafty like Gaia.
A simple, straightforward question wouldn't work. Gaia would never answer it. Plus they were still

playing truth or dare. Mary would have to trick Gaia in the context of the game. Right. She'd have to trick Gaia in the same way Gaia had tricked
her
that night they'd snuck into Sam Moon's dorm....

"So I guess it's your turn now, right?" Mary asked.

Gaia nodded.

"And you're obviously not gonna pick truth, right?" Gaia nodded again, smiling.

"Then I
dare
you to tell me the truth," Mary said. She looked Gaia straight in the eye. "I dare you to tell me why you don't live with your family anymore."

FOR A MOMENT GAIA WAS FROZEN.
Mary was smart. Gaia had known that from the day she'd met her. But she hadn't expected Mary to be so cunning. She hadn't expected Mary to beat her--fair and square, as the cliché went. There was nothing Gaia could do. She couldn't argue her way out of it; she couldn't fight her way out of it. She had to answer the question.

It was too bad Mary didn't know how to play chess. She'd be a hell of a chess player.

This marked one of those few times in Gaia's life that she was very happy to be the
freak that she was.
Because right now, fearlessness was a good thing. She wasn't afraid of talking about her family history. She wasn't afraid of digging up the past. Objectively, however, she knew it would cause emotional pain that she wasn't equipped to deal with. In a very real sense, it was like
staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.
She didn't have to feel fear to know that the gun would hurt her.

But for the first time she also knew that she didn't have to face the pain alone.

Until now she'd never been able to share the story of her family's demise because there had been nobody with whom to share it. It was that simple.
She'd never had close friends.
The string of foster families she'd lived with after her mother's death didn't give a rat's ass about anything except the support check from family services.

She had someone now, though. Somebody who would listen. Somebody who wouldn't judge her. Somebody who had also endured unspeakable suffering and shame--and had emerged stronger on the other side. Gaia owed it to herself to try. And to Mary.

"I ... uh, it happened five years ago," she whispered.

Mary nodded.

The world seemed to melt away. The entire universe shrank to this room, this moment. Gaia stared

into space, seeing nothing. Her mind was dominated by a vision of
driving snow....

"We used to spend time at this house in the mountains. We kind of lived there on and off," Gaia continued. "Just the three of us--me, my mom, and my dad. My dad worked--" Gaia broke off, clearing her throat. She wondered how much she should reveal about her father's business. Probably as little as possible, for the sake of Mary's safety. Not that Gaia had any concerns that this conversation would ever leave this room. She trusted Mary absolutely. Still, it was always best to be as cautious as possible. "My dad worked for a federal agency."

"Doing stuff he wasn't allowed to talk about, right?" Mary asked.

Gaia sighed. "Right." Mary understood perfectly. "So, anyway, the three of us lived in this cute little old house, way out in the boondocks. My mom always loved the country." Gaia swallowed. Her voice grew strained. "She ... ah, she was from Russia originally. She grew up on a farm. Way up in the north. She loved the winters.... It was her favorite time of year." She shook her head, trying to wipe the image of her mother's face from her mind. "Anyway, my mom and dad never talked about my dad's work, although now I know that my mom must have been involved somehow. Or at least she
knew
everything. I mean, if she didn't know ... she probably would have wondered why my father spent so much time teaching me all these exotic martial arts and forcing me to learn calculus."

Mary laughed softly. "That makes sense."

"Yeah." Gaia blinked several times. Again she saw that blanket of driving snow against a starless night sky. She felt like she was floating in a giant tub--and the drain had just been unplugged.
She was swirling closer and closer to a dank, black hole.
"So ... there we all were, living up in this house ... and--and it was winter, and ..."

"It's okay," Mary murmured. "It's okay."

Gaia felt the wetness on her cheeks even before she realized she was crying. But she couldn't stop now. She was going to tell the whole story.
Even if it killed her.
She'd passed the fail-safe point. There was no turning back.

"It was night," she choked out. "There was a blizzard. We'd just finished dinner. My dad was setting up the chess table by the living-room window. We always played ..." She sniffed. "We always played chess after dinner. My mom was in the kitchen, cleaning up. I was sitting across from my dad. Just looking out the window. I didn't see anything. Just snow. I didn't hear anything. Not a sound. I didn't ..."

"It's okay," Mary repeated.

Gaia squeezed her eyes shut. No. It wasn't okay. It was anything
but
okay. The words seemed to come from somewhere else, as if Gaia were listening to a recording of herself speak. "There was a noise in the kitchen. A little twang, like the sound of a string being plucked. It was

nothing. I didn't even think about it. Just a little twang. But my dad got this look in his eye...." The pitch of Gaia's voice rose; the words came faster and faster. "He dove across the table and tackled me. All the chess pieces went flying. I screamed. I heard shooting. My dad was shooting at somebody. It was so loud. I tried to get up, but my dad held me down. I know it sounds stupid, but I thought I could help. I didn't know who was trying to hurt us or why, but I knew I had to save my mom and dad. Then the bullets stopped. My father got up. And--and ..."

The next thing Gaia knew, she had collapsed into Mary's arms. She was sobbing uncontrollably. Her body shuddered. Her breath came in great heaving gasps. Mary said nothing. She simply held Gaia against her. Her grasp was very tight.

"I heard the sound of somebody running," Gaia wept. "But the thing I remember most was looking up--just for a second. Looking up, and seeing my dad in the doorway. And he looked at me. He was holding a gun. But his face ... his face; there was nothing there. It was like a mask. Totally blank. His eyes were dead...." She couldn't go on.

"What about your mom?" Mary whispered. "What happened to her?"

Gaia sniffed again, burying her face against Mary's shoulder. "I knew she'd been in the kitchen when the whole thing started. So I stood up and walked in that

direction. I didn't see her at first. I thought maybe she was hiding, but ... then I noticed the blood. It was all over the floor, leaving a trail that went behind the counter. When I turned the corner ... she was just lying there. I sat next to her. I just put my head against her cheek and cried. My dad came in a little later, and--I don't know; we just waited. I don't really remember much else. An ambulance came and took us to the hospital. I rode up front. But it was too late. My dad and I just sat there in the waiting room all night, waiting for nothing...."

Mary squeezed her tightly. "At least he was there for you."

Gaia struggled to take a breath. She shook her head. "He
was
there for me. But then he wasn't. When the doctors came out and told us that my mom had died, he didn't say anything. He just sat there, with those same dead eyes. Then he hugged me. It was a weird hug, though. It was like he was pulling me toward him and pushing me away at the same time. Neither of us spoke. And then ... that was it. He got up and walked away. Of course, I thought he'd be back. I waited and waited. But I never saw him again. And I never found out what happened or why he left. After that, I went into foster care--"

"I'm so sorry," Mary whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Don't be, Gaia thought. Her body slowly started to relax. It was over. The night was over. The tears still came, and the pain still remained--but now there was

something else, too. Relief. She never knew how right it would feel to express what had happened, to relive it.
For the first time ever, she felt she could get over it.
Of course, she knew she would never put it behind her completely--but she felt like she had somehow been set free.

"Are you okay?" Mary asked.

Gaia nodded. She leaned back and tried to smile once she managed to compose herself. "What do you say we stop playing truth or dare?"

Mary laughed softly. "I think that's a good idea." She glanced at the clock on her night table. It was almost 2
A.M.
"You want to try to get some sleep?"

Gaia shook her head. "Nah. How about I teach you how to play chess instead?"

THE LISTENING DEVICE WAS GOOD FOR A
range of up to forty miles. Mary Moss's bedroom was no more than one-tenth that distance from the loft, so Loki had excellent reception.

He switched off the receiver and leaned back in his desk chair.

Well. That had been quite an enlightening little exchange. Quite an outpouring of emotion. Two girls, united by loneliness. Two misfits. Two outcasts. He shook his head. The bug had certainly proved its worth. It had been easy enough to plant; it was no bigger than a fingernail and practically transparent. And those so-called high-security buildings on Park Avenue were nothing of the sort. They could be easily penetrated in a variety of ways. Loki hadn't even needed a key. Earlier in the day he'd slipped undetected through the service entrance in the back. A third-rate burglar could have planted this bug.

He glanced up at the window and out at the Manhattan night. The city was alive this evening-- crawling with people.

Of course. It was the holiday season.

Holidays meant nothing to Loki. As he saw it, they were arbitrary excuses for human beings to associate with one another. He was glad to be alone. He had always prized his solitude, but on nights like this-- nights when he was forced to make an important decision--solitude was imperative.

He knew what would happen if Ella were here. She'd be clamoring for Gaia's head.

She'd insist that Gaia's breakdown tonight was evidence of deep-seated psychological instability and that Gaia would be of no use to them.

And she would be right ... to a certain extent.

At the moment, in her current state, Gaia truly
was
of no use to them. She was of no use to anyone.