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  Gaia looked up into his eyes, her own wide and sure. “Okay, Dad,” she said. “I won’t see him again.”

  She was lying. She might not have even known it, but she was. Tom knew that Gaia would see Oliver again if she wanted to. She was an independent girl—always had been. And Tom had always admired it. Unfortunately it had also always scared him. Independence and fearlessness were not a good combination.

  But as he looked into her eyes, he decided not to press the issue. Gaia had survived this long, mostly on her own. She was an intelligent, instinctive person, and Tom was proud of her. He was going to have to trust her to do what was right. Even if it meant swallowing his pride and keeping his mouth shut.

  “Thank you,” Tom replied. “Believe me, I want you to be right about this. You have no idea how much I want you to be right.”

  “I know,” Gaia said, looking away. She lifted her hand toward the bed and let it slap down against her leg again. “So, you want to start loading up on this stuff so we can get out of here? I want to get home and see if they delivered my new stuff yet.”

  “Definitely,” Tom said, feeling his head clear. “But I don’t want any of that fur stuff,” he added, finally making a real decision. “Not my style.”

  “I had a feeling,” Gaia said with a smile.

  She grabbed a basket and started to pick sheets and shams and pillowcases off the shelf. Tom smiled wistfully as he watched her work. He promised himself there would be no more thinking about work and no more talking about Oliver for the rest of the day. All he wanted was to have a nice time with his daughter.

  The Gaia Loop

  SAM STOOD OUTSIDE THE DOOR TO Gaia’s apartment and squared his shoulders. He tried to ready himself for whatever response she might give him. He had no idea what she was thinking after hearing all his messages—mainly because she’d never bothered to return them—but he had to find out. He had to know, once and for all, if what they had between them could still be salvaged.

  The door swung open and Sam’s heart skipped a few dozen beats. Gaia’s face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with something that could only be called happiness. Her hair was sticking out wildly around her face, having fallen loose from the ponytail that still held some of it back. She was wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. When she reached up to smooth some hair behind her ear, the T-shirt rode up and exposed a tiny strip of her flat stomach.

  “Sam,” she said, the flush deepening. She crossed her arms over her chest and held herself. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” Sam said. What was he supposed to say next? Just wanted to see why you didn’t return my calls. Lame. He really should have thought this through.

  “Gaia! Who is it?” a voice called from back in the living room. A man’s voice.

  Sam looked past Gaia into the apartment, where he could see basically nothing. “Bad timing?” he asked, his heart slamming into his rib cage.

  “No!” Gaia said, finally stepping back. “Come in.”

  Sam followed Gaia past the kitchen and into the living room, which was littered with huge broken-down cardboard boxes, random pieces of oddly shaped Styrofoam, and enough bubble wrap to keep his fingers popping for days. Sam’s eyes lit up when he saw Gaia’s father stand up from behind a desk he was apparently assembling. At least, he hoped it was her father. The other option would have sent him running for the door.

  “Sam Moon!” the man said brightly. He wiped his palm on the back of his jeans and held his hand out. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Mr. Moore,” Sam said, shaking hands with the man. His grip was strong and his hands were calloused. “You’re back.”

  “Thanks to Gaia,” Mr. Moore said, smiling at his daughter before returning to the manufacturer’s directions he had laid out on the floor.

  Sam turned to Gaia, a million questions in his mind. Last he heard, Gaia’s father had disappeared from the hospital and she had no idea who had taken him or where, let alone why. Now the man was miraculously back home and building furniture in the living room like nothing had ever happened. A person could definitely miss a lot when they were out of the Gaia loop for a few short weeks.

  A cold, hard ball formed around Sam’s heart and he realized he was hurt. Hurt over being frozen out of Gaia’s life. But he made himself remember that she had tried to apologize and it was he who pushed her away. He’d caused this.

  “Oh, we just bought some new stuff,” Gaia said, either misreading the question in his eyes or deciding to answer the easiest one first. “We’re . . . redecorating.”

  “Cool,” Sam said for lack of something better to say.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Gaia asked, ever blunt.

  “I . . . uh . . . was just hoping we could talk,” Sam said quietly, moving toward the dining room table and away from her father. His shoved his hands into the pockets of his suede jacket and curled them into fists.

  Gaia glanced in her dad’s direction and Sam did the same. Clearly she sensed this was a conversation that couldn’t take place with a parent around.

  “Dad, I’m going to take a break,” Gaia said, picking her jacket up off one of the dining room chairs. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” her father said, his hand appearing from behind the back of the desk. “I’m sure I’ll still be right here when you get back.”

  Gaia slipped into her battered army jacket and led the way out to the hall and the elevator. Sam could feel the tension between them as they stood side by side, watching the numbers light up as they descended to the lobby. He wished that he knew what she was thinking. He wished that he had a better handle on what he was thinking. All he knew was that his heart was racing and that he wanted this to go well.

  The only question was: What did “well” mean? Did it mean that they would come out of this day as friends? Did it mean that they would come out of this day as a couple? Somewhere deep inside he knew that he wanted the latter, but would probably settle for the former.

  His life was a lot less interesting without Gaia around—a lot less passionate and exciting and, yeah, dangerous, but still. . . . The occasional danger was a small price to pay for the other stuff.

  Sam wanted back in the Gaia loop. He just hoped she was willing to let him in.

  Twist

  GAIA SAT DOWN ACROSS FROM SAM at a back table at the Mikonos diner, wondering what the hell to say to break the excruciating silence. She wanted to apologize for not returning his calls. She wanted to ask him what had prompted them after he basically told her he never wanted to see her again. She wanted to know what he was thinking as he picked up the menu and pretended to look it over.

  But every time she tried to formulate one of those questions in her mind it either came out sounding desperate, pathetic, or accusatory, none of which she actually felt.

  “Oh, hey, Dmitri’s back,” Sam said, cutting into her thoughts. “He told me to tell you.”

  “Done laying low?” Gaia asked. “That’s cool. I talked to him a couple of times on his cell, but I had no idea where he was.”

  “Yeah. He didn’t even tell me,” Sam said.

  They fell back into awkward silence, each gazing out the window. Gaia was psyched by this new development. If Dmitri was back in town maybe he could help her track down her father’s kidnapper. He had resources, contacts at the CIA. Between him and Rosenberg, maybe she could get somewhere.

  She sighed and looked at the cow-spotted clock above the counter. If someone didn’t say something soon she was going to have to bail. Of course, there was one thing she had to talk to Sam about and now was as good a time as any. Gaia took a sip from the water glass that the busboy had slapped down on the table and cut right to the chase.

  “My uncle wants to meet with you,” she said.

  Sam dropped the menu down flat on the table. “You’re kidding me.”

  “No. I know it’s a lot to ask, but—”

  “A lot to ask? Gaia, the guy kept me in
an eight-by-eight cell for six months! Why the hell would I want to meet with him?” Sam blurted.

  “But it wasn’t him,” Gaia told him. “You know that. He only wants to meet with you because he wants to apologize for what Loki did.”

  Sam lifted his hand and rubbed at his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. He pressed his eyes closed and took a steadying breath. “I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he said finally.

  Gaia heard the pain in his voice and the effort Sam was making to control it. She decided to drop the subject—for now. She’d broached it and now he could have some time to think it over.

  “Fine,” she said as the waitress approached. Gaia ordered a Coke and a plate of cheese fries, and Sam asked for a black coffee.

  “So . . . ,” he said as the waitress scurried away.

  “So,” she replied. She was going to let him bring it up, whatever it was. He was the one who had called her. He was the one who had come over. She wasn’t going to say a word until he told her what he was thinking. It was a convenient decision to make since she had no idea what to think herself.

  “So, your dad’s back,” Sam said, pushing his water glass back and forth between his hands. “That’s amazing.”

  Gaia blinked. “Yeah. My uncle and I tracked him down, actually,” she said. Instantly her thoughts turned to Jake and his role in rescuing her father. Should she tell Sam about him? And if so, what should she tell? The whole Jake thing was so complicated in her mind, she wasn’t sure she could explain it to herself, let alone to Sam.

  She also knew that whatever Sam was thinking, there was a chance he might shut down if she mentioned another guy. Even if she and Sam were no longer together, she knew that he would assume that she and Jake were more than friends if he knew what Jake had done for her. And if he thought they were more than friends, uncomfortableness would ensue. That was the last thing Gaia wanted.

  “Where was he?” Sam asked, leaning back as the waitress placed their orders in front of them. “I mean, unless it’s top secret.”

  “He was in Russia,” Gaia replied. “We’re still not sure who took him.”

  She shoved a few fries in her mouth and they settled in her stomach like sticks. We’re still not sure who took him, the words repeated in her mind. Maybe she shouldn’t have left her father alone.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Sam said suddenly, reading her expression. “He’s home now. You guys are going to be okay.”

  Gaia watched as Sam’s hand slowly came down on top of her own. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver up her arm and she didn’t pull away. It was amazing how comforting one touch could be. She had thought Sam was never going to touch her again.

  “I know,” she said.

  His fingers closed a little more tightly around her palm and Gaia felt a jolt of something—something unpleasant. Something that felt a whole lot like guilt.

  Jake, she thought, her stomach churning. I feel guilty because of Jake.

  She swallowed hard and stared at Sam’s hand on her own. This was a new and unexpected twist. She knew that she was attracted to Jake. She knew that he had pretty much become her best friend. But guilt over holding hands with another guy? How had it come to this?

  You have to tell Sam, Gaia’s inner voice told her. Pull your hand away. Tell him it’s over.

  But she couldn’t. Sam held a huge part of Gaia’s heart and he was finally here. He clearly cared about her and wanted to be part of her life. If she said anything now, that would all be obliterated. She wasn’t ready to let go of him yet.

  “What’re you thinking?” Sam asked.

  Tell him about Jake! Say something!

  “Nothing,” Gaia replied, removing her hand and picking up another fry. “I wasn’t thinking about anything.”

  As she shoveled a few cheesy fries into her mouth, she decided that, for now, Jake was going to remain on the back burner. For now, she just wanted to be with Sam. She owed it to him, and to herself, to see if they could be friends again.

  She could deal with her intense emotional confusion later.

  GAIA

  I’m no good at this stuff. Never have been. Probably never will be. I suck at figuring out how people feel about me. But I suck even more at figuring out how I feel about them. It took me forever to figure out that the nausea I always felt around Sam was attraction. It took me even longer to realize that I was in love with Ed. But in both those cases, there were a million other factors to complicate things. There was Heather, for example. And there was the fact that being with anyone put that person in immediate danger. Sam was kidnapped because of me. Ed was almost killed. It made it kind of hard to even think about being close to someone.

  But now . . . now things have changed. It’s really as simple as that when you get down to it. There’s nothing to protect Jake from. And even if there was, he’s not a person who would tolerate being protected. He’s made that more than clear. So now I have to deal. I have to deal with the fact that, yeah, I’m attracted to him. There, I said it. I have to deal with the fact that when I was with Sam today, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jake. I have to deal with the fact that I look forward to seeing him. That when I’m with him my thoughts are mostly positive. That whenever we happen to touch or brush up against each other, I get that shiver all over my skin.

  I have to deal. I have to figure out how I feel. Because there aren’t any more excuses not to.

  To: X22

  From: Y

  Subject: RE: Prisoner 352, Codename Abel

  Receipt of message confirmed. Send all NYC units into the field. I want daily reports on the movements of Genesis, Cain, and Abel. Don’t fail me on this.

  time to try

  Could she really do this? Could she really just take off on the spur of the moment and go have fun?

  Touched

  “GAIA! WHAT A PLEASANT SURPRISE!”

  Dmitri held the door to his Murray Hill apartment open for Gaia on Saturday morning and she smiled as she walked by. She may have been there on business, but she had a soft place in her heart for the kindly old man who had helped her bring Natasha to justice. It was good to see him again.

  “How have you been?” Dmitri asked, settling into a cushy leather chair in his plush living room. Gaia sat across from him on the couch and leaned forward.

  “Okay,” she said. “But I need your help.”

  “What is it?” Dmitri asked, his expression growing concerned.

  “The CIA put my father on forced leave and they won’t let either one of us near Natasha and Tatiana,” Gaia said in a rush. “Which means we’re nowhere on the investigation into my father’s kidnapping.”

  Dmitri nodded slowly, taking this in. “Why did they put your father on leave?”

  “I don’t know,” Gaia said, standing up and starting to pace. “He won’t tell me and neither will they.”

  “You talked to someone at the CIA?” Dmitri asked, raising his eyebrows. He brought his fingertips together under his nose in a contemplative pose as he watched her circle in front of him.

  “Yeah, some special agent,” Gaia said. “She’s going to grill Natasha and Tatiana separately. I told her what to dangle in front of them to make them talk, but who knows if it’ll work. . . . ”

  Dmitri shifted in his seat and brought his hands together under his nose. “What did you tell her to do?”

  Gaia really looked at him for the first time since the conversation started. There was a new tension in his voice. He was legitimately apprehensive. Gaia was touched.

  “I told her to offer Natasha Tatiana’s freedom and vice versa,” she said with a shrug.

  Dmitri narrowed his eyes and nodded, then took a deep breath. “Yes. Very wise,” he said, now gazing off across the room. “That just might do the trick.”

  “Anyway, do you think there’s anything you can do?” Gaia asked, sitting down on the edge of the couch again. “Can you call your guy at the CIA and see what he knows? Or . . . I don’t know, use some of your
other contacts—find out if they’ve gotten any rumblings out of Russia? Maybe people are talking about the rescue. . . . ”

  Dmitri sat in silence for a moment, eyeing her, mulling over everything she’d told him. Finally he sat up and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His face moved into the shaft of light coming from a nearby lamp, illuminating every last line and wrinkle in his weathered face.

  “Gaia, I know you’re not going to like this, but I think it’s time for you to let this go,” he said.

  Gaia felt as if he’d just punched her right in the gut. With brass knuckles. “What? Let what go? The fact that Natasha and Tatiana betrayed us? The fact that someone kidnapped my father? What if they try it again?”

  “They won’t try it again,” Dmitri said, his blue eyes sure. “Trust me.”

  “How can you know that?” Gaia demanded.

  “You’ve already proven that you won’t be intimidated—that you won’t respond to their tactics,” Dmitri said. “Believe me, Gaia. I know how these people work.”

  Gaia couldn’t comprehend what she was hearing. She had been so sure that Dmitri would help her. So confident that he was her best ally in this. Why was he turning her down?

  “Please, Gaia. It’s time to move on,” Dmitri said, reaching for her hands. “Let it go and live your life. Let the CIA do its job.”

  Gaia scoffed and stood again, pulling her hands from his. “You sound just like my father.”

  Dmitri chuckled and looked up at her. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

  “Whatever,” Gaia said, turning her back on him and heading for the door.

  “Gaia! I want you to know that whatever happens, I will always be here for you!” Dmitri called after her.

  Gaia paused for only a second, then kept walking, wondering why she had hesitated at all. Why those words had for some reason touched a chord within her heart.

  “Yeah,” she said under her breath. “Thanks for nothing.”

  Let Go

  TOM WALKED TOWARD CENTRAL PARK, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes trained on the ground. He took a few long, deep breaths of the fresh spring air and felt the soothing warmth of the sun wash over him. Once he’d finished putting together Gaia’s new furniture that morning, he’d found himself slowly going stir-crazy. His new bed and dresser were going to be delivered later in the week and he still couldn’t seem to make himself comfortable among Natasha’s things. He felt more stifled in that apartment with her books and her knickknacks and her scent than he had in any prison cell he’d ever had to call home.