Tears

by Francine Pascal

  Tom nodded. But he couldn’t answer. He was crying.

  alien surge

  Never mind the fact that two psychos had tried to kidnap her. Never mind that she didn’t have a clue as to who they were or what they wanted.

  GAIA FELT LIKE SHE WAS STILL unconscious. Yes, she’d been awake for several minutes now, and her attackers were long gone. . . but this, this was just too outrageous to be true. It had to be a dream. Not just Ed’s walking. All of it—everything that had tumbled from Ed’s mouth as he sat there beside her, still clutching the gun: the secret, the reason he’d kept it to himself, his bargain with Heather—

  Dark Possibility

  “Gaia? Did you hear what I just said?”

  She shook her head, unable to stop staring at him. “Huh?”

  “Who were those guys?” he demanded.

  “I. . .” She shrugged. She had no idea. Besides, the question struck her as extremely unimportant, given the circumstances. “I just can’t believe Heather asked you to do that, Ed. It’s just...it’s just beyond my comprehension—”

  “Gaia!” Ed barked. “They had guns. They almost killed you. They could have killed me. What the hell is going on?”

  She stared at him, but all she could do was shrug again. It pained her. She could see the genuine fear in his eyes. He deserved an answer to the question. So did she. Her mind kept coming back to Loki, of course...but he was in jail. So were there sickos in the world who wanted a piece of Gaia Moore? This was a dark possibility she’d really never considered. But it seemed pretty clear: She had an enemy who wanted her kidnapped.

  “Ed,” Gaia said softly, dropping all her attitude for a brief moment for Ed’s sake. “I don’t know who they were, and I don’t know what they wanted, okay? Hopefully I will find those answers—either by myself or with my father’s help. But right now the important thing is that I’m okay and you’re okay. And. . . and you saved my life.”

  Those last words were difficult. She had to wrestle them from deep inside her. And she knew the reason: She never found it easy to admit that she couldn’t handle every situation with complete autonomy. But now, with all her new and completely screwed-up attachments, life was much more complicated.

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, well, now we’re even,” Ed muttered. Then he smiled and gingerly placed the gun on the ground beside them, pointing in the opposite direction. “Besides, that’s some of the best walking I’ve done in years.”

  Gaia could only shake her head—once again reliving that image of Ed on his feet. Playing it in her mind, rewinding it, and playing it again. It was all unbelievable. The fact that Ed could walk. The fact that he’d saved her life. Or the fact that Heather Gannis was trying to take Ed’s accident settlement. Especially the part about Heather. . .

  Correction. Heather’s being a selfish schemer? Not so unbelievable. Ed can walk. That was truly the wildest part of this equation. Gaia had thought she was hallucinating in the park, watching Ed pick himself up out of his wheelchair and shuffle forward. She’d thought for sure she’d damaged her skull in the fight somehow and was experiencing some kind of neurological breakdown. Her eyes wandered over to the wheelchair, sitting there in the darkness like a discarded toy.

  “You’re amazing,” she heard herself say.

  Ed smiled again, and for a brief, shining moment everything in the world was okay. Never mind Sam. Never mind the fact that two psychos had tried to kidnap her. Never mind that she didn’t have a clue as to who they were or what they wanted. She had her best friend back, Ed could walk, and right now she felt happy and so damn proud of Ed that she wanted to stand up and tell the whole city what he’d just pulled off. Listen up, New York: My friend Ed is a walking miracle!

  “Hey,” Ed warned. There was an edge in his tone. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone my secret. And you also promised not to judge Heather.”

  She sighed, not sure if she wanted to laugh or to punch him. “Are you seriously telling me you’re going to go through with this hush-hush garbage? Come on. You can’t do this to yourself. If you’re going to walk again—”

  “And this is not your decision to make,” Ed interrupted. “I’m not asking for your approval, G. But I am asking you to keep your promises. You swore you’d keep my secret. You swore you wouldn’t judge.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. Mental note: Stop making promises you know you’ll regret. “You know I won’t breathe squat to anyone. But as for not judging Heather. . .” She frowned. “No can do.”

  “Just keep it to yourself,” he mumbled.

  Right. Easier said than done. It would take every ounce of self-control that Gaia possessed not to have a little talk with Heather. But a promise was a promise. To break it would be to become like Sam Moon. And that was not a move she was prepared to make.

  “You play hardball,” Gaia finally said with a grim smile. “I might have to kick you.”

  Ed laughed. “I might have to kick you back.”

  Acrid Taste

  AS SOON AS THE FEDEX GUY WAS out of sight, Sam hauled the massive box from the hall into the living room of B4, then ran into his room to get a penknife. Delivery from the police station. He knew exactly what it was. His computer. Back at last. He crouched beside the box and ran the blade along the cardboard lid, feeling a swell of relief.

  After a day of complete and utter shit, it felt good to have some minor redemptive moment. The police had returned his computer, which meant he was now officially and completely in the clear as far as Mike’s death was concerned.

  With a groan Sam lugged the monitor over to his desk and started rewiring the machine. No doubt the assholes had completely wiped his hard drive. No doubt they’d read every personal piece of e-mail he’d ever written. Whatever. Those were small prices to pay, comparatively. He’d learned to live with minor disappointments.

  The big ones, he still had trouble with.

  Sam swallowed hard, an acrid taste in the back of his mouth. Again he tried to wipe out the image of Gaia’s face from his mind—her expression of disgust as she’d turned away from him in the park. But he couldn’t. It had been playing on an endless loop. How the hell was he going to mend their relationship? Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe it really was over. If Gaia had treated Sam the way he’d been treating her for the past week. . .

  Well, he’d still forgive her. He loved her too much. Which made it all the more painful. Because he could completely understand it if she never forgave him. He started grinding his teeth as he hooked up the various cables, the image of Gaia’s face melting in his mind, shifting into an image of Josh Kendall. Every ounce of Sam’s pain was thanks to that bastard and the people who paid him. If their plan was to destroy Sam’s life, they had succeeded. Why couldn’t they leave him alone?

  Almost without thinking, Sam grabbed the phone and punched in Gaia’s number. This was call number five in less than an hour. Again the machine picked up. He slammed the phone back down on the hook. She was probably blowing off steam somewhere or telling Ed what a big-time loser Sam was.

  He looked at his watch. 7:00 P.M.

  Enough of this shit. He wasn’t going to spend Friday night hooking up his computer or loitering in his suite just because Josh had ordered him to do so. No, something inside him had just snapped. If this were a chess game, he could surely find his way out of a check. He’d played plenty of games where opponents thought they’d had him mated. They’d be sure the game was over, and then Sam would find a move they hadn’t seen. One brilliant move.

  Of course, this wasn’t a game.

  That was the entire point. This was real life. Maybe in chess Sam needed a brilliant move, but in life all he needed. . . was Gaia. So in a way there was a simple and uncomplicated solution: Find her.

  Right. Sam grabbed the white shirt draped across the ironing board in his room. As he buttoned it, he felt an alien surge of a feeling long forgotten: hope. Coupled with some kind of manic courage. Or maybe it was stra
ight lunacy. Was there even a difference? Not really. Leaving could very well mean suicide. But at this point he was starting to wonder if death was preferable to this. . . this nonlife he was living.

  Josh would be calling any minute—turning up with instructions, threats on Gaia’s life, and whatever other surprises he had in store. But Sam would be long gone. If he didn’t find Gaia at her place, then he’d find her at the restaurant.

  And confess.

  GAIA

  I wonder how Ed will change now that he can walk.

  Maybe he’ll be the same. Maybe he’ll turn back into the skater formerly known as Shred, the badass who drove the girls of the Lower East Side crazy, who won the heart of Heather Gannis. Or maybe he’ll be somebody completely different.

  All I can say for certain is that he won’t be the wiseass in the wheelchair that I’ve come to know and love. And that’s disconcerting.

  Scratch that. That’s unbelievably selfish. This is the greatest breakthrough possible, and here I am wondering how it will affect me. Ed doesn’t need more selfishness. Clearly he’s getting it on all sides from Heather. No surprise there, although Ed wasn’t expecting it. With one tug on his heart-strings, she retains the cash flow to which she thinks she is entitled. Actually that’s not so surprising, either. Ed is stupidly generous and a total sucker for sentiment. Heather takes advantage; Ed knows it, yet he just goes along with her, anyway. Because that’s Ed. Always putting everyone else first.

  I think Ed is the only unselfish person that I know. Except for my dad.

  Heather, Sam, and me—we’re all narcissists.

  the positives

  A thousand horrible scenarios whirled through his head at once, all revolving around. . . them.

  “DAD?” GAIA CALLED.

  One Day

  This is going to suck. Gaia pushed open the front door of the Mercer apartment and pocketed her key. She’d been dreading this moment: the inevitable confession. Now she’d have to tell her dad how Sam had stood them up for dinner. And then there would be some kind of sympathy moment during which her father would spot the cut on her head. And then there would be a stream of questions that she (a) couldn’t answer and (b) didn’t feel like facing.

  Bath. Hot bubble bath. Three hours long. That was all she wanted.

  Which, judging from the darkness, she would be able to get after all.

  Yes. Gaia ripped off her coat and hit the bathroom, eager to fill the tub before her father got in. That way they could talk more distantly through the bathroom door and maybe avoid some of the mandatory fatherly concern factor. It wasn’t that Gaia didn’t like the idea of fatherly concern. She just needed to be alone. Anyway, what could her father say that she didn’t already know? Sam had let her down. Broken his word. And her heart. Case closed.

  She sighed, a slow ache burning up through her heart as she stared at the running water. She thought of all the clichés people said at moments like these, clichés that only made the pain worse. If it looks too good to be true, then it is too good to be true. Gaia almost laughed at that one. Sam had always looked too good.

  It was over, though. She needed to accept it and move on. Like she had so many times before, with so many other losses. She forced herself out of the bathroom at a brisk walk, steering her thoughts away from him. Tonight she would have a nice dinner with her father. Tonight she would savor the good things. The positives. Speaking of which, it was kind of weird that her father wasn’t back yet.

  Gaia switched on the living-room light. Her eye fell on a piece of white paper, propped up on the mantel above the fireplace. She smiled. Ever since her dad had reentered her life, he’d become extra cautious about informing her of his every move. If he was late at all— even by a minute, even for the most trivial reason—he overapologized for it.

  Poor Dad. Gaia’s smile twisted sadly. He was still trying to make up for the way he’d disappeared from her life without a trace. She knew he wasn’t over his guilt yet. Five years was a long time. But one day. . .

  Gaia lifted the note.

  My dearest Gaia,

  By the time you read this, I will be gone. I cannot tell you where I am going or when I will be back—only that I am going to London first. From there I will try to call before I am transferred somewhere else. They will not tell me where for fear that I will tell you. Please believe me when I say that I have no loyalty to anyone or anything but you—that my life as I once lived it is over. I suppose that in a way, it ended the moment we lost your mother. But that is a conversation for another time, another place.

  I do everything for you, for your protection. If I am to see you ever again, I must go now.

  I don’t expect you to understand. If it were in my power to take you and run and be free of this life, I would. All that matters to me is your safety. But in order to ensure it, I must remain alive. George will take care of you for now. I trust him. I will return as soon as humanly possible.

  My darling, forgive me, especially for leaving tonight of all nights. Know that I am thinking of you, that I remain always,

  Your loving

  Dad

  With shaking hands, Gaia dropped the piece of paper to the floor.

  Incredibly, though, she felt no pain. No sadness. Just resignation. She should have seen this coming. She had been naive, deluded, and just plain illogical, staking her hopes of permanence on a man who disappeared for a living. And as always, her father had chosen the world over her. His love was an illusion. It looked pretty, handwritten there on his note—but it was just a word, void of feeling. Gaia flicked the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. It warmed her, enveloped her, shutting out everyone and everything else. She stood silent and still in the empty living room.

  But then she noticed her cheeks were wet.

  She was crying. Salty tears streamed down her face. But she still felt nothing. It was simply a physical reaction, a reflex. Maybe she could no longer feel sadness, either. Maybe sadness had gone the way of fear. That would be a relief. Then she wouldn’t have any more trouble. Then she really would be the “new” Gaia she so desperately wanted to be. Accept it and move on. Accept it and move on. The words were her own private mantra, as soothing as a poem—

  Knock, knock.

  Someone was here.

  Get lost, she silently told the unwelcome visitor. But the knocking was persistent. George. Or maybe the kidnappers from earlier. Who knew, and who cared? Gaia sprang to her feet and threw open the front door, hoping it was a bunch of Jehovah’s Witnesses ready to take her away to a better life...or a serial killer waiting to put her out of her misery. Bring it on. Because anything was better than this, and nothing could be worse.

  But at that moment she realized she was wrong.

  Because that was when it broke: “it” being the last feeble string that held her together.

  SAM BARELY OPENED HIS MOUTH before Gaia collapsed into his arms, sobbing. Terror consumed him instantly. He’d never seen Gaia so distraught—never seen anything close to this display of emotion. A thousand horrible scenarios whirled through his head at once, all revolving around. . . them.

  The Limit

  “What is it?” Sam begged, practically carrying Gaia’s limp body toward the couch. “Gaia? Did someone try to hurt you?”

  “He’s gone,” she wept. “He’s gone—”

  “Who?” Sam demanded, holding her tightly to him, smoothing down her hair, doing anything he could to soothe her as her tears flowed down his shirt. He sat her down on the couch. “Who’s gone, Gaia? You have to tell me.”

  “My father. He’s gone, Sam....He’s gone again.”

  “It’s okay,” Sam whispered, tightening his arms around her as she curled up inside his embrace. He swallowed. He was here now. Here to hold her for as long as she needed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Gaia. I’m—”

  “No,” Gaia choked out, shoving Sam away and scrambling to her feet.

  Sam gaped at her, uncomprehending. “What?” he whispered.


  “That’s the problem, Sam. You’re here now.”

  “What...what are you talking about?” he asked.

  “You’re here, and then you’re gone. Just like him. Just like my father.”

  Sam shook his head rapidly. “It’s not at all what you think, Gaia. I can explain. That’s all over now. That’s why I’m here, to explain it all to—”

  “Explain what?” Gaia interrupted. She savagely wiped her tears from her face and sniffed. “Explain that you haven’t been yourself, that you’ve been avoiding me? Give me some lame excuse about some secret crisis you’re going through? It’s all bullshit, Sam!” Her voice rose to a shriek. “All of it!”

  The words slapped him with an almost palpable force. He leaned back in the cushions, lips quivering. He blinked, searching for a response, a remedy, anything. But he couldn’t deny what she’d said. Could he? He refused to let himself believe that their relationship had been damaged beyond the point of no return. They were just getting started. They had an entire future together—a series of tender moments and intimacy and sharing, all laid before him in perfection, like the squares on a chessboard. He wouldn’t let that slip away. It was more than a vision; it was reality. In the end, love could overcome deception. Especially when the deception was justified. . .

  “I love you,” he heard himself say. It was all he had left.

  But Gaia just laughed grimly. “Well. Look what all this love has done to me. It’s made me weak. And I am not weak, Sam. I am not weak.”

  Sam bit his lip, staring up at Gaia’s wet face. She was without question the strongest girl he’d ever known— the strongest girl he ever would know. And in that one brief moment of silence he fell twice as much in love with her. As if moving in a dream, he stood up from the couch and stepped toward her. “Do you have any idea how much—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gaia spat. She moved away from him, inching in the direction of the door. “Not in the end. We have to start over. Alone. Apart. It’s the only way.”