Chase (19 page)

At best, I should feel indifferent toward him. But because we share blood, I find myself drawn to him. I find myself willing to try to trust him–this new, remorseful Oliver–because our DNA matches up so nicely.

Am I just a sucker? A girl so lonely she'll cling to any semblance of a family connection? Or is this an instinct, speaking through the layers of primordial history, telling me the tide has turned for Oliver?

Let's hope it's the latter.

Let's hope it's the blood that's letting me forgive him. Anyone else would get nothing from me but my everlasting hate. Like Natasha and Tatiana. The mother-daughter team from the third ring of hell. A couple of lying, conniving females who took my dad
from me and almost had me convinced he was dead. But he can't be dead. My blood would tell me if he was. They're still going to pay, though. Maybe with their own blood. If I get half a chance, you can bet that'll be the case.

But that's so not a priority. What's important now–what's got to happen before anything else–is I've got to find my dad. My real blood link. Even closer to me than Oliver. He's the one I owe my loyalty to. And I'm going to find him. Come hell or high water, the blood pumping in my veins is going to give me the strength to reach around the globe and find him. You can bet on that.

She had to remember to keep her distance this time—within her heart and out in the world.

Dangerously Accurate

GAIA SAT SLUMPED IN AN UNFORGIVING
wood-and-metal chair as she cycled through the seven local stations one more time, looking for something that would amuse her and Jake in his hospital room. The television, which looked about twenty years old, was bolted to the ceiling and made a disconcerting fuzzy noise whenever a channel was changed, like the
cchk
sound at the beginning and end of a walkie-talkie broadcast.
The static was only marginally less interesting than daytime TV.

“Is this
Judge Judy
?” Gaia wanted to know.

“No, that's a different show,” Jake said, pointing to the screen. “It looks like a judge show, but then they bring in therapists and it turns into a corny lovefest where everybody's hugging and crying, even though tomorrow they're going to go back to throwing chairs at each other.”

“You need better health insurance. This no-cable thing is a problem.”

“Aren't you supposed to be in school?” Jake asked again. Gaia glared at him. Forcing herself to ignore the way his black hair fell on his forehead just right, even after a full twenty-four hours of lying in a hospital bed. And the way his green eyes sparkled as he asked the
question he knew would annoy her. And the muscles she could see even through the loose hospital gown he wore. If he got out of bed, she'd get a prime view of his butt. She forced herself to ignore that, too.

“Didn't I already sidestep that question?” she wanted to know.

“Yeah, that's why I have to ask it again. I'm in a weakened state. I'd think you'd be more considerate—it's tiring, all this verbal tangoing, you know.”

“Whatever. I skipped again,” she admitted. “I can't sit around in school. I'm too agitated.”

“What? Because of this?” Jake shrugged. Gaia tried not to think about the fact that he'd been shot when he'd been ambushed along with her.
Because
of her. So what if it turned out to be nothing more than a flesh wound? He was hurt because he'd gotten in the way of people who were after Gaia. And that made her feel ill.

He wasn't the first person to end up lying on a metal cot with a tube in his arm because of her. And she felt a leaden certainty that he wouldn't be the last.

“No, not because of that,” she said sheepishly, glancing at the bandages enveloping his powerful shoulder. “You know why.”

“Because you're worried about those visas,” he said, taking the remote from her hand and switching the TV off. “You're going to make yourself crazy, you know.”

“Oh, I'm already there, so there's nothing to worry about,” she told him.

“Yeah, but . . . I mean, you have to wait a couple days anyway, right? Why can't you just go to school and avoid getting in trouble?”

Gaia blinked at him. “What are you, a boy scout?” she asked.

Jake laughed. “No, I'm just saying you could pass the time at school as easily as you can pass it sitting here.”

Gaia knew he was right. She didn't know why she had such an aversion to school. Maybe it was because she already knew everything that was being droned about at the front of the classroom. Her dad—her dad and her mom, actually—had made sure of that, making her take advantage of her sharp intellect from the moment she could read. Maybe she just hated being fenced in. Maybe she was worried that another strike would hurt the students around her. Or maybe she just wanted to be here, at the hospital, with Jake.

“Oh, why start behaving now,” she mustered. “It would just confuse everyone.”

“You know what I think?” Jake gave her a sidelong look.

“No, in fact, I don't possess that particular skill,” Gaia responded dryly.

“I think you like the drama,” he said with a tiny nod. “You like getting the principal all pissed off at you and driving your teachers up the wall. Because you know you can pull a passing grade out of your ass, and you like the challenge.”

“Oh, really. Is that what you think?”

“Yeah. Plus, now that I know how crazy your life has been, it makes even more sense. You'd hate to feel settled and centered in any part of your life, wouldn't you? That would just be too unfamiliar to stand.” Jake was enjoying this, Gaia could see that. She was acting nonchalant, but inside she was squirming with discomfort under the probing spotlight of this much attention. Not to mention that
his theory sounded dangerously accurate.

“Hey, I have a great idea, Jake. Why don't you get out of my head and back into your hospital bed? I think it's time for your lower G.I. series.”

“Oh, hoooo!” Jake laughed at the sharp tone in Gaia's voice. “Man, are you easy to tease!”

“You're annoying,” Gaia told him. “I'm going to request a male nurse for your next sponge bath.”

Just then the door clunked open and Jake's father entered the room, along with a stout old woman. Gaia stood up as if she'd been caught pulling the wings off a fly. Mr. Montone didn't know why Jake had been ambushed—they couldn't know for sure that it was Gaia's fault—but Gaia was sure he'd still be angry at her. Surely he'd figure it couldn't be a coincidence that the first time his golden boy had gotten shot, it had been when he was with his mysterious new friend.

“Gaia!” Mr. Montone came straight for her and gave her a . . . hug?
Gaia's nerve endings did a
little confused dance
—they'd been expecting a slap, or at least the cold shoulder.

“Thank you for getting Jake to the hospital,” Mr. Montone said. “When I heard he was with you, I was so glad—that he had a friend so close, I mean. Ma, this is Jake's friend Gaia. The one who got him to the hospital.”

“You do so good!” the old woman said, reaching up to grab Gaia by the cheeks and give her an affectionate—and powerful—squeeze.

“A lot of girls your age are somewhat—flighty,” Mr. Montone added. “Might have panicked and run home.”

“Oh no,” Gaia stammered. “I mean, I didn't really—”
Shut up and quit while you're ahead
, she muttered internally.
For once someone thinks you did something right. You'd better enjoy it.

“Dad, Nonna, what are you guys doing here?” Jake asked. “Is something wrong?”

The door opened again. A nervous-looking young doctor in a white coat shuffled in, looking like he'd rather be dealing with an obstructed bowel.

“Excuse me. I understand you want to take Jake home?” he asked, with all the authority of a kid who'd missed his curfew.

“How to put this nicely?” Jake's grandmother said. “It's not so much that we
want
to take him home. We
gonna
take him home.”

The doctor looked to Jake's dad for help, but he
just shrugged and started packing Jake's things into a duffel bag.

“Mrs. Montone, I really must tell you, we'd prefer it if we could watch Jake for one more night.”

“Watch him what, starve to death because of your hospital food? I need to get some braciola into him before he fades to nothing.”

“We'd just like to observe . . . Oh, fine,” the doctor said resignedly.

“Good man,” Mr. Montone said, patting him on the back. “Don't worry, I can watch him. I know what to look for—infection, gangrene. I work at Mount Sinai, you know.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was amazing. Mr. Montone looked like an older Jake, but with salt-and-pepper hair, a bit of a belly, and in corduroys and a tweed jacket. He peered at Jake over his half-glasses and said, “You. Up.”

“Gaia, do you mind?” Jake asked.

“What? Oh!” Gaia got flustered. “I'll wait in the hall.”
She caught a glimpse of him sitting up and shifting over in bed and thought of his butt again.

Quit that
, she thought, shutting the door behind her. Immediately she realized she should have just made her excuses and left. Of course, she could still just leave, but she hadn't said good-bye, and Jake's family would think she was weird. But if she barged
back in now, she might catch him in a compromised state, and that would be too embarrassing for words.

And why do you care what Jake's family thinks?
she asked herself.

I don't
, she answered.
Who cares? Just because his father fed me the best homemade dinner I've had since I was a kid and welcomed me into his home. And just because his son is basically my only friend. I don't give a hoot what they think of me
. But still she stood in the hallway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other with nervous energy, until they came back out.

Jake was fully clothed, except that he hadn't managed to get a T-shirt over his bandages, so his loose flannel button-down shirt fell open at the chest. His father and grandmother followed behind him, arguing over which one should carry the duffel bag.

“Gimme that. You've got the bad back,” his grandmother ordered.

“I've got it. It's not heavy,” his dad said.

“Not heavy till you're in bed and need a heat-wrap. Come on, give.”

Jake slowed down so they had to pass him, then let the elevator door close without him.

“See you downstairs,” he called out as his grandmother tried to hit the door-open button and failed. “The hospital would have been some welcome peace and quiet,” he said to Gaia, grinning.

“I think they're great,” she said.

“They are. But Nonna's a bit much.” He sighed and hit the down button so they could get on the next elevator.

“Are you sure you should be going home?” Gaia asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Jake said. “I fully expected my dad to show up and yank me out of here. He always says the best way to get sicker is to spend time in a hospital. I guess from working in them. This thing does ache, though.”

“Yeek.” Gaia peered at the big bandage. “I don't think you're going to be doing much intramural karate.”

Jake groaned. “I know,” he lamented. “You're off the hook, though. If I'm not competing, we won't win, anyway.”

“God, you've got the fattest head!” Gaia complained. “You think I couldn't beat everyone single-handedly?”

“You could, but you won't,” he pointed out. “I was really looking forward to it, though. I was all revved up for the competition. Without it, the next few weeks are going to be so boring. And I'm going to get so out of shape.”

Gaia felt the bud of an idea fatten in her head. “Hmm,” she said.

“Hmm, what?” Jake asked, poking the button a few more times.

“Hmm, I was just thinking. When I was going through my martial-arts training, my dad showed me a bunch of techniques for working out that give various muscle groups a rest. I could teach them to you,
just so your precious muscle mass doesn't evaporate during your recovery.”

“Gaia Moore, are you offering to be my personal trainer?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. If you're going to be an idiot about it, I won't bother.”

Jake smacked her lightly in the back of the head. “Cut it out,” he said. “I'm sorry. I would be really grateful if you could show me your special commando workout.”

“Fine. I will,” Gaia said.

“But only if you go to school tomorrow.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Of course, you're going to be gone within a day or two,” Jake pointed out, as the elevator finally arrived and the doors creaked open. “Your visa's going to come through and you're going to be out of here, and I'll be left with atrophying muscles and a gunshot wound.”

For a moment, Gaia had a vision of Sam Moon's scarred back—another wounded friend, a love destroyed by the life she was forced to lead.
She had to remember to keep her distance this time. Within her heart, and out in the world.
She wouldn't let that happen to Jake.

“Oh, that visa's never going to come,” she said, refusing to betray the emotions roiling inside her gut. “You'll be sick of me and my commando workout.”

She was silent, watching the numbers light up in
descending order. This was the slowest elevator in the world. She noticed Jake giving her a look.

“What?” she snapped.

“I think it's funny,” he said.

“What's funny?”

“The way every single thought in your head goes walking across your face before you shove it back in its closet,” Jake said. “You really think that because you don't say things out loud, you can deny they're there, don't you?”