London Escape (21 page)

“That’s pretty cool.”

I shrug. I can’t argue that it had been pretty great to be rescued by some top-secret agent that turned out to be my dad.

“Hey, look on the bright side, my father’s a crook.” He says it half-jokingly, but I can hear the pain hidden in his voice.

“Speaking of the bright side, I have a surprise for you.” I reach into the pocket of my sweatpants and pull out the necklace.

He looks even more surprised than when I revealed my possession of the necklace the first time around.

“How did you...” he trails off, taking it from me and examining it carefully.

So I start to tell him everything he missed, starting with Rodriguez rescuing us from the basement, which he hardly remembers. His eyes widen when I tell him how I managed to slip the necklace from V’s coat pocket as he wrestled me into submission. I round out the story by telling him how V eventually escaped. I leave out all the bits about my mom, mostly because I’m not ready to say the words out loud just yet.

“Crazy.” Jason shakes his head in amazement. “Who knew he was capable of all this.”

I think he means V, but I can only think of how the statement also applies to my dad.

“What made you do it? I mean, V had a gun, but you still tried to take the necklace back.”

I shrug. “It didn’t seem right that he should get away with it. Especially after all I went through for the stupid thing.” I take the necklace back and toss it onto the bedside table.

“All you went through for it?” he scoffs. “What about me? Besides, I thought you did all this for me, not the necklace,” he adds in a teasing tone.

I look down at his fingers laced with mine. “Okay, so maybe part of it was for you. But there’s more to it than that, I think it’s part of who I am. I just never knew it. You know how my dad always says I’m a lot like my mom?”

He nods. He has heard me complain many times about this comparison.

“Well, apparently I’m more like her than I ever really knew.”

He raises his eyebrows at this, “Your mom is in on this too?”

I shake my head. “Later, Jase.”

He seems to understand my hesitancy to talk about her. To me everything still feels too fresh, too raw to talk about out loud.

“So what now?” he says after a few moments of silence.

“I don’t know, I guess we go home and try to get back to living a normal life as much as we can,” I say.

“No, I mean what now. As in what are we doing today?” He looks around. “You think we can get some room service in here?”

“Now you’re talking,” I say, with my first real smile in days. It’s exactly what I need at the moment. Some semblance of normalcy, no matter how contrived it feels. For now all that matters is that we are alive and together. After all, that had been my goal all along, to get Jason back. No matter how much everything else had gotten messed up along the way, I had at least achieved that.

We order almost everything on the room service menu and eat sitting on the bed while we watch stupid movies on cable. It feels a lot like old times, except for our bruises and bandages. We end up never even leaving the room. We talk, we laugh, and basically pretend like nothing has changed. In a way we are still the same, after all, many things about us remained unchanged. But deep down inside I can feel it. And when I look at him I see the same feeling reflected back in his eyes. The fear and the anxiety that comes with knowing this will never be over. We will never be able to forget all that has happened to us this summer.

Jason dozes off around the middle of our third movie, but I can’t bring myself to leave his side. Even as he sleeps, his grip on my hand grows painfully tight, and I know he wouldn’t want me to go either. Instead I lie down on top of the covers beside him and drift off. I’m barely conscious when my dad comes to carry me back to my own room.

15. ECHOES

I
t’s a strange sensation when I wake up the next morning. For the first time in over a week I don’t start my day with a flood of emotion. My feet are not itching to hit the floor. My mind is no longer whirling with a thousand different ideas and emotions. In a way I feel quite numb, which is strange. I know I should get up. There are so many things that still need to be sorted out. 

Instead I just lay there; watching the sunlight as it attempts to peek though a tiny crack in the curtains. Although I’ve woken up feeling calmer than I have in days, there is still something bothering me. An unfamiliar feeling simmering just below the surface, buried deep inside of me. A feeling I’m not familiar with. It takes me a long time to figure out just what it is. It isn’t fear. I’m safe now and so is Jason. V is probably long gone by now, possibly in another country already.

I’m not completely exhausted any more, so that can’t be what’s bothering me. I’ve slept more in the past two days than I probably needed too. Sadness is a part of this mystery feeling, I’m certain of it. Sorrow from knowing my mom isn’t out there somewhere, simply living her life without me. She is gone, really gone, forever. So yes, sorrow certainly has a lot to do with the strange feeling that aches deep down in my chest.

But the pain throbs harder than ever when I think of him, my dad. Why had he done it? Lied to me all these years, about everything? Would it have really been that much harder for him to tell me the truth about what happened to my mom and who he really was?

No matter how hard I try I can’t make sense of it all. And suddenly the mystery feeling has a name: betrayal.

I pretend to sleep in as long as I can, but when the clock finally reads ten I figure I’d better make an appearance before my dad comes looking for me. Mostly I just want to see if Jason is up and feeling better today. I’m not sure what’s next for us. At this point I just want to go home and forget all about London.

I dress in another new outfit from the bag on the floor, a dark red top and nice, new jeans. However, I toss the new brown suede sneakers back in their box with a frown. It takes me a minute, but I find my old Converse piled in the corner with my dirty clothes. They are really looking worse for wear now, but I think they have proven their luck ten times over.

Before I can leave the room, there’s a soft tap on the door. I steel myself to face my dad once more, but when I open it only Jason is standing there.

“Hey, can I come in?” he asks, looking a little anxious. Maybe it’s because my dad and Rodriguez are in the living room, both talking nervously on their cell phones. My dad is pacing, which is never a good sign.

“What’s going on?” I step back to let him my room.

He shuts the door behind us. “I’m not sure, but I think it has something to do with V.” He paces over to the window and peeks through the curtains. I know what he’s doing, checking the streets for unfamiliar vehicles or people. I have done the same thing twice since getting out of bed.

“Where do you think he went?” I ask.

“No idea,” he says, striding back over to me. “Before I forget,” he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a small envelope and hands it to me. “This came for you this morning. Don’t worry, I grabbed it before your dad could see it, just in case you didn’t want him to. Someone stuck it under the door early this morning.”

As soon as my fingers touch the paper I get a strange feeling inside. I can’t tell right away if it’s a good feeling or not. My fingers tremble slightly as I tear the envelope open. Inside is a single page, with a single sentence: “In case you ever need help translating Latin.” The signature reads Peter O’Malley, and there is a phone number below that. Instantly I feel a wash of relief that Peter is okay. The last time I’d seen him one of the Things had been hauling him off behind the café where we’d met. Clearly he’s fine now.

I sink down onto the edge of the bed, still staring at the paper in my hand. I can feel Jason’s eyes on me, so I look up at him. For the first time I realize just how whole and healthy he looks this morning. I can’t help but stare a little.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He nods toward the note.

I sigh, thinking of all the help Peter had given me, his connection with Halcyon and probably my parents. None of it adds up right now.

 “There’s a lot I need to tell you.” I cringe at my own words, I sound like my dad now.

“I have time.” He sits beside me.

“What about them?” I nod toward the door to indicate my dad and Rodriguez.

“They won’t miss us. They’re still trying to figure how to get the necklace returned to the Royal Family,” he says with a shrug.

I fold up the paper and stick it in my pocket, suddenly unsure where I should start.

“Who is that from?” he asks, not waiting for me to begin.

I hesitate. “A friend of my mom’s.”

He recoils in surprise. “What does she have to do with all of this?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet. She was…what my dad is.” I explain slowly.

“A Halcyon agent?” he clarifies. “You kind of hinted at it yesterday.”

I nod.

“She was?” he continues. “Did she retire?”

“No.” I look away. “She’s dead.”

“Kit, I—”

“No it’s okay.” I stand up and pace the room because I have to put some distance between us. After everything that has happened the last thing I want to do is fall into his arms sobbing. And as long as he’s close to me, it’s too much of a temptation.

“Don’t say anything,” I insist. “It’s fine, really. She’s been gone for a long time, this is really no different then what I’ve always believed about her.”

Moments tick by while we both wait for the other to speak. I’m still staring out the window when he finally does.

“I’m glad you know the truth now,” he says quietly.

“I’m not,” I say.

“How can you say that?”

“Really, Jason? Are you so much happier now that you know your father is a criminal?” I turn to face him.

 He gets up and crosses the room to me, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. “We’re going home this afternoon,” he states, ignoring my statement about his father.

“Good.”

“When we get back everything is going to be different,” he stresses, looking deep into my eyes.

I nod and look away. He’s right about that.

“But we’ll get through this. The same way we got through this past week, okay?”

I look up at him, wanting to believe it will be that easy.

“Together?” His eyes search mine earnestly.

“Together.” I sigh. But it’s impossible to ignore the feeling that goes surging through me then; once again, my spidey sense is tingling.

When I finally leave my room, it’s just thirty minutes before we have to leave for our flight. Ignoring the curious glances I get from my dad and Rodriguez, I walk right past them. After pouring a cup of coffee and grabbing a muffin I sit gazing out the window in silence as I eat. It is another rainy day in England, and even after all that has happened here I can’t help but feel a little sad about leaving. I’m not sure how long it will be before I manage to get on a plane again, and this past week wasn’t exactly what I had expected from my first European vacation.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence Rodriguez announces our car is downstairs waiting for us. He and my dad gather up their luggage. Jason and I are only carrying backpacks, so we wait by the door. I’ve still managed to completely ignore my dad as we step into the elevator when Jason suddenly remembers he’s forgotten something in the room. Rodriguez says he’ll take Jason back to the room while my dad and I continue on down to the lobby. As soon as the elevator starts to move my dad speaks up.

“I know you’re angry with me, Kit,” he says, his voice calm, but firm.

I continue examining the pattern on the carpet.

“But I want you to know whenever you’re ready to talk I’m here.”

I give a snort of derision at this. Honestly I think I’m done talking about everything that has happened. The more I learn the more I realize just how much of my life is a lie. And what a liar my dad is. There isn’t much more I can take.

The elevator dings, signaling we’ve arrived at the lobby, but my dad presses the button to keep the doors closed.

“You need to know something,” he says, turning to me.

I don’t speak, but I at least look up at him this time.

“I’m so sorry for all of this. I never, ever meant for to you to be hurt by all these secrets, I swear, Kit.” He sighs. “Making the decision to not tell you the truth about your mom’s death right away, well, it was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. But please believe me when I say, I only did it because I wanted to protect you.”

The honesty in his voice, the look in his eyes, they pierce me to the core. Even then, I still can’t bring myself to forgive him. At least not now, when it is all too fresh in my memory. He’s still watching me with a helpless expression as I press the button to open the door.

We step out into the lobby without exchanging another word or glance. I know I’m being a bit cruel, but at this point I just can’t help it.

The four of us remain quiet for the duration of the trip to the airport. I try not to look surprised when we’re led out to a private jet parked on the tarmac. I shoot a confused look at Rodriguez who only mouths, “Halcyon.”

 I’m beginning to feel more and more confused about this mysterious organization by the minute. Still, I mount the steps behind Jason and wonder what they do to afford this luxury. Once settled on the plane my dad and Rodriguez set up in the back with their laptops. I guess they have important work to do, because they’re busily talking in quiet tones and making phone calls. I’m struck again by how completely unfamiliar my dad looks to me now. Sure, he still looks like a businessman, typing emails and making reports, but now I know what his true identity is. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look at him again without seeing that deadly glint in his eye as he pointed the gun and V and threatened to kill him if he touched me. Shuddering, I turn away from the two Halcyon agents and back to Jason.

Jason and I take two seats side-by-side. He busies himself closing all the shades, perhaps thinking it will make the flight easier on me. Before we take off, my dad stops by my chair to squeeze my good shoulder and ask if I need anything. I shake my head and he goes back to his work. Jason isn’t as easily convinced and reaches over to take my hand as the engines of the plane hum to life. You would think after all I have been though this past week that flying wouldn’t bother me anymore. But it still does, and I grip Jason’s hand gratefully. This is a different kind of fear, a familiar one, so I both welcome it and loathe it at the same time. I don’t think I’m able to take a full breath until the wheels touch down on the tarmac at New York’s LaGuardia airport.