Chase

by Francine Pascal

  Searching for something to focus on to help her stop obsessing about her total discomfort, Gaia’s eyes fell on a framed photograph on the countertop of the hutch. The woman in the picture was gorgeous—raven haired with huge blue eyes and a flirtatious smile that was the mirror image of Jake’s. Gaia knew she was looking at Jake’s mother and wondered again where she was. The woman’s gaze was mesmerizing, and Gaia couldn’t seem to take her eyes off her. But she suddenly felt Jake hovering behind her chair, ready to put down a drinking glass.

  “Sorry,” Gaia muttered, reddening. Why had she agreed to this? She should be scarfing down a dirty-water dog right now on the train back to Brooklyn. Gaia wasn’t accustomed to being waited on.

  “That’s my mom,” Jake said as he placed the glass down a little too hard.

  “She’s . . . really . . .” Really what, Gaia? Is it really so difficult to think of something nice to say?

  “I know,” Jake interrupted, walking around the table and sitting across from Gaia. “She was really beautiful.”

  “Was?” Gaia asked before she could rethink it.

  Jake cleared his throat and looked down at his empty plate as his father clanged around in the kitchen. “She died when I was ten years old,” he said. “Brain tumor.”

  Gaia’s heart went cold. He had said it so simply, but there was so much pain and emotion wrapped up in that statement. And Gaia knew all of it. She knew the anger he probably felt toward his mother for deserting him. She knew the guilt he probably felt over that anger. She knew how he would probably give up his life for one more day with her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s all right,” Jake said, an edge in his voice.

  Gaia stared into his light eyes, which were suddenly filled with defiance. She knew that feeling. He was daring her to be sympathetic—daring her to pity him. Oh, how she hated it when people gave her those sorry-ass looks when they heard about her own mother.

  “What about you?” Jake asked suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s your family like?”

  There it was. Ask a person a question and it comes right back to bite you in the ass.

  I don’t think I can answer that one without a graph and a couple of pie charts, Gaia thought, swallowing hard. But Jake was watching her expectantly. She had to say something.

  “My mom died when I was little, too,” Gaia offered, hoping that sharing this one piece of information might at least take that sorrowful-yet-hard look out of Jake’s eyes.

  “Really?” Jake asked. “How?”

  “It was an accident,” Gaia replied quickly. Now it was her turn to become entranced by her plate.

  “You know what sucks?” Jake said.

  This conversation? Gaia thought. “What?”

  “The fact that everyone always says they understand how you feel about it but they never can,” Jake said. “No one ever can.”

  Gaia’s heart pounded painfully in her chest, and she looked up into Jake’s eyes. In that one moment there was a connection that even Gaia couldn’t deny. She knew something about him that no one else could come close to knowing and he about her. And the really strange thing was, it didn’t bother her. It was as if Jake was looking right through her carefully woven exterior directly into her emotions, and she didn’t even mind. She actually felt kind of . . . free.

  “Exactly,” Gaia said quietly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  No Harm

  “HEY, RED! LOOKIN’ HOT!”

  Tatiana tilted her head to the side so that the red curls fell between her face and the Neanderthal who was catcalling to her from the doorway to the twenty-four-hour Dunkin’ Donuts around the corner from the Village School. This whole wig thing was turning out to be an interesting sociological experiment. That was the third guy who’d come on to her since she’d left the safe house twenty minutes ago. Maybe blonds had more fun, but redheads definitely attracted more moronic come-ons.

  She rounded the corner, grabbed the red curls on either side of her head, and yanked down on the wig, fitting it more snugly against her skull. It was dark out now, and if anyone saw her approaching the school, there was no way they would recognize her with the mass of hair shielding her face. Still, she wanted to get this over and done with.

  The front door was always unlocked, even this late, so that overachieving teachers could come and go. The janitors were also at work inside somewhere, but Tatiana was sure very few people were left. It was her only chance to get in and out undetected.

  She opened and closed the heavy metal door as quietly as possible, producing only a tiny click as it shut. She crept up the stairs and peeked around the corner to the main hall, left, then right. Every other fluorescent light was illuminated, casting an eerie glow over the deserted hallway. Tatiana took a deep breath and walked quickly, silently to the stairwell.

  When she opened the door to the second floor, she heard movement and hushed voices to her left and paused. Damn kiss-ass teachers. How much money could they possibly be getting paid? Certainly not enough to keep them here this late. She trained her ear on the sounds and relaxed. They were definitely coming from the front hall—the opposite direction of where she had to go. She slipped out of the stairwell and slid along the wall this time, ready to duck into a classroom if anyone happened to decide on a bathroom run.

  Jake’s locker was at the end of a row, directly across from another stairwell. Tatiana pulled the folded note out of her jacket pocket and shoved it into one of the three chevron-shaped slats in the door, wondering if they’d been expressly designed to accept secret admirer cards and Dear John letters. She heard the paper flutter to the floor inside and turned to go, mission accomplished.

  But just as she was registering the fact that she was home free, she heard footsteps running up the stairs right in front of her. Suddenly Megan appeared beyond the cut-glass window in the wooden door, her face downturned as she dug in her backpack, looking for something. Tatiana had nowhere to hide. She had only seconds to think. She whipped off her wig and smiled. At that moment Megan opened the door and looked up.

  “Omigod!” she blurted, jumping back against the door and bringing her hand over her heart. Her moment of surprise gave Tatiana a chance to stuff the wig into her pocket. “Tatiana! You scared me!”

  “Sorry,” Tatiana said. “I guess this place is kind of deserted. What are you doing here?” Besides completely screwing me over? she added silently.

  “Oh, the spirit club meeting went late,” Megan explained with a smile. She resumed the search of her backpack. “We were making signs and stuff for the karate meet tomorrow.” Finally Megan pulled out a tube of lip balm and quickly applied it to her lips, then smacked them together. “You know, when Tara came up with this whole idea of equal opportunity pep, I was all for it, but keeping up with all these teams and their meets gets kind of exhausting.”

  “I know,” Tatiana said sympathetically. “Well, I’d better get going . . . .”

  “What are you doing here?” Megan asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder and completely ignoring Tatiana’s attempt to bail. Two little lines appeared just above her nose, rendering her the picture of concern. “You haven’t been in school for a couple of days.”

  “Yeah . . . there’s been some family stuff going on,” Tatiana said, knowing Megan would eat up the idea of being let in on a private drama. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  Megan raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I totally understand,” she said. “But . . . why are you here, then?”

  There is nothing worse than a girl with a nose for gossip, Tatiana thought.

  “I came to get some stuff out of my locker,” Tatiana lied easily, tilting her head to indicate the locker just behind her. “I want to keep up with my homework.”

  Megan’s face scrunched up in confusion. “That’s Jake Montone’s locker,” she said. “Yours is downstairs.”

  Tatiana had to concentrate to keep from rolling her eye
s. Of course. How could she have forgotten the many times that Megan had tracked her down at her locker to chat and giggle and exchange lipsticks? Not only that, but Megan was completely obsessed with Jake. She probably knew not only where his locker was, but his combination, his favorite food in the cafeteria, and the number of freckles on his arms.

  “Okay, you caught me,” Tatiana said, thinking quickly. If Megan kept such a keen eye on Jake, then she would notice when he found the note in the morning, and she was smart enough to put two and two together and realize Tatiana had left it. It was time to tell a version of the truth. “I was leaving a note for Jake.”

  Megan’s eyes lit up with interest. She walked over to a locker a few doors down and started spinning the lock.

  “Really?” she said provocatively. “You and Jake Montone, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Tatiana said, forcing a blush to her cheeks. “But . . . don’t tell anyone, okay?” she added. “I mean, I think Gaia sort of has a crush on him and I wouldn’t want her to find out that I was here . . . .”

  “Please,” Megan said. “Like I would really talk to Gaia Moore.”

  That, at least, was one thing Tatiana had going for her in this whole mess. Megan might love to gossip, but she’d rather wear acid-washed jeans to school than be caught talking to Gaia. And even if she did tell all her friends about the note, the news would never get back to Ms. Moore. No one bothered to let the girl in on anything.

  “So . . . have you guys . . . you know . . . ?” Megan said, her interested tone barely masking her jealousy.

  Tatiana smiled. There would be no harm in having a little fun with the girl.

  “I will say that the boy is not shy,” Tatiana said with a loaded grin. “And that whole phrase about the size of a guy’s shoe . . . ? Totally true.”

  Megan groaned and blushed the color of Tatiana’s hidden wig. “You’re so bad!” she said.

  You have no idea, Tatiana thought. “See you around,” she said, fluttering her fingers at Megan. Then she turned and strode out of the school, hoping the girl would, for once, keep her big mouth shut.

  TATIANA

  How could I have been so careless? If my mother could see what I have done in the past few days, she would be in shock. I am not acting like the daughter she taught so well. I am not following procedure. I should have made sure there was no one left in the school to catch me. I should never have taken that car on the street. But I know why I have become this way. I know why I keep stepping away from protocol.

  I have to save my mother. And I am letting my emotions cloud my judgment. It only makes it worse that Gaia is involved. More emotions. More clouds.

  I must take a step back and make sure I do not make any more errors. I must go over every inch of my plan and strengthen the weak links. Because this is one mission I cannot afford to lose.

  I am my mother’s daughter, and I have to start thinking like her. If our positions were reversed and I was the one who was taken, she would have found me by now. She would not have let anyone or anything stand in her way. Gaia would have talked, and she would be lying dead right now with a bullet between her eyes. My mother and I would be together.

  And that is all I want. I want us to be together, and I want Gaia dead. Jake is my only hope. I have to play this just right. And I will. I will play it like my mother would play it. I will be cold, I will be smart, I will be ruthless. I will be her.

  And I will win. I must.

  From: X22

  To: Y

  Subject: URGENT!

  Our techs have picked up heavy activity from the private account of subject L. Subject L has been reactivated. Situation needs immediate attention. How is this possible? Please advise.

  From: Y

  To: X22

  Subject: Re: URGENT!

  This is not possible. Subject L has not been reactivated. Unknown agent must have broken his password, which we, I remind you, have yet to do. We must locate this agent, get the information, and terminate the agent. I have already assigned B team to the search. In the meantime, continue to monitor account activity.

  Repeat: It is not possible that subject L has been reactivated.

  impossible

  How had everything gotten so complicated?

  Epiphany

  WHEN GAIA LEFT JAKE’S APARTMENT over an hour later, she was reveling in the contentment brought on by a good meal. Her stomach was full, her head was clear, and she was filled with a sudden sense of purpose. Watching Jake and his dad participating in the familial conversation over dinner had left Gaia with an intense need to be around people she cared about. Unfortunately, she’d managed to either alienate or completely lose track of every last one of them. But there was one person she might still be able to make things right with.

  She swung a brown bag of leftovers as she pushed open the door of Dmitri’s apartment building. It was time to talk to Sam.

  He’s had a few days to cool off, Gaia reasoned with herself as the elevator zipped skyward. And he understands what my life is like. He has to understand why my first instinct is always to be suspicious . . . .

  Of course, none of her reasoning could erase the memory of the destroyed expression Sam had worn when she’d accused him of setting her up for an assassination attempt. He had looked as betrayed as she had felt when a hail of gunfire was opened up on her.

  Yeah. He may take a little convincing, Gaia thought, hoping for the best as she rang the doorbell. Maybe she could bribe him with Dr. Montone’s leftovers.

  She heard footsteps, too heavy to be Dmitri’s, and held her breath. She could practically feel Sam looking through the peephole at her. Hear him breathing. She counted silently while he thought over whether or not he wanted to open the door.

  One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . .

  Oh, come on, it can’t be that hard to decide.

  Nine . . . ten . . . eleven . . .

  Gaia shifted from foot to foot and felt her body start to grow warm with embarrassment and anger. How could he leave her hanging like this? She felt like a complete and total idiot. Like the dork who went to the hot girl’s house to pick up his dream date for the prom, only to find out she had already left with the quarterback and it was all a big joke on him.

  Twenty-one . . . twenty-two . . .

  This was completely uncalled for.

  “Sam? I know you’re there!” she said finally.

  The door opened, causing Gaia’s heart to skip an excited beat, and she braced herself for the wary look that was sure to be on Sam’s face. But no one was there. She pushed the door until it hit the wall and saw Sam’s back retreating toward the living room. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and followed him. This was going to be harder than she thought.

  When she got to the living room, Sam was shoving notebooks, pens, and a baseball cap, among other things, into his backpack. Gaia waited for him to acknowledge her. He didn’t.

  “Sam, look, I—”

  “Dmitri’s not here,” he said, immersed in his frantic, rather violent packing. “He took off this morning. Said he’d be gone for a few days. Something about . . . staying under the radar.”

  Gaia barely had the wherewithal to assess this statement. She was too busy noticing how much concentration Sam was putting into not looking at her.

  “I’m here to talk to you,” Gaia said, reddening.

  “Well, you’d better come back another time, then, because I’m on my way out,” Sam replied. He zipped up his bag and finally looked at her, though his eyes were so hard, she could barely tell if they were focusing on anything at all.

  Wow. He wasn’t making this easy. The last words she could imagine herself uttering in the face of such coldness were I’m sorry. It was pretty clear they were just going to ricochet right off his icy exterior. He started to brush past her, and Gaia reflexively grabbed his shoulder.

  “Wait!” she blurted, realizing that if she was going to get out an apology, it would have to be fast. “Sam, I wanted to say
. . . I’m sorry.”

  Okay, that was weird. Usually she had to rev up for a good fifteen minutes before she could actually speak those words.

  “Yeah, you told me that already,” Sam said flatly, yanking his arm away. She felt like he had slapped her right in the face.

  “Sam, you have to try to understand,” Gaia told him, the area around her heart roiling with heat and emotion. “I just . . . I never know who I can trust. You know that I—”

  “You should have known you could trust me,” Sam spat, his eyes still hard. “After everything I’ve been through for you . . . .” He tipped back his head and groaned. “I am not going to do this,” he snapped, his words piercing Gaia’s heart. “I’ve had enough. ‘I’m sorry’ is just not gonna cut it, Gaia.”

  “Then what will?” Gaia asked.

  Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know. I don’t know if anything ever will.”

  The huge meal Gaia had eaten started to rebel against her stomach the moment Sam turned his back on her and grabbed his jacket off a coatrack in the corner. She swallowed hard before speaking.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Out,” he said, pulling on his jacket.

  “Sam, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Gaia said, trying to ignore the emotion coming off him like a tidal wave. “I mean, you might not . . . be . . . safe . . . .”

  She trailed off as she realized that she was actually living with the one and only person who Sam was hiding from. Which meant that she was technically harboring his enemy. But then, he was Oliver, not Loki, so she wasn’t really doing anything wrong per se. Gaia shook her head slightly to try to straighten it all out. How had everything gotten so complicated?

  “I can’t just sit in this apartment for the rest of my life, either,” Sam said, his voice full of accusation. The underlying meaning: “And I wouldn’t have to if it wasn’t for you.”

  Gaia couldn’t argue. After all, she knew where his former captor was and what he was doing at this very moment. She was pretty sure he would actually be quite safe out on the streets. She turned away from him and put her things down on the coffee table.