Trust (8 page)

WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT? Heather murmured.

Ed wasn't sure how to reply. Here they were, lying on the bed . . . just waiting to take the next step. The
inevitable
step. The step they had taken together two years ago — back in a different lifetime, out by Heather's beach house in the Hamptons. Only now Ed knew that it could never be the same. And he wasn't thinking about the emotional side of it, either. No,
physically
it couldn't be the same.

“Ed?” she whispered, brushing her rumpled hair out of her face. She was leaning over him now, half covering his body with hers. Her face was flushed, sweaty.

“I was thinking how it was before the accident,” he admitted quietly.

Heather took a deep breath, then sat up straight, disentangling herself from his embrace.

Oh, shit
, he thought. Had he ruined any chance they might have had?

“This is good right now,” she said finally.

“I know, I know,” he said, hoping he didn't sound
too
eager to keep going. “It's just that it's hard for me.” He swallowed, unsure of how clearly he wanted to express himself. “This whole thing. You know?”

She gazed down at him, her eyes softening. “Ever notice how people in really touchy situations always talk in really vague terms?”

“Yeah,” he said thickly, trying to laugh. But he couldn't. He could feel his throat tightening, his insides churning. What the hell was his problem? Why was he screwing this up? He was in bed with a beautiful girl — the girl of his
dreams
, practically. How many sleepless nights had he spent fantasizing about this
exact
moment? Actually, he didn't want to go there. His desperation filled him with shame. “I just . . . don't want to let you down. And I don't want . . .” He couldn't finish.

“You don't want what?” she prodded gently, her face creased with concern.

He bit his lip, then turned away from her, staring at the wall. “I don't want you to let me down, either,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her voice took on a harder edge.

Ed forced himself to meet her gaze again. “I don't want this to be a onetime thing,” he said. “I mean, I don't want you to ditch me the second you patch things up with Sam and —”

“This has nothing to
do
with Sam!” she snapped. All of a sudden her eyes started welling with tears. She jumped off the bed and snatched up her sweatshirt, pulling it over her body in quick, jerky motions.

“Heather, wait,” Ed whispered, struggling to sit up straight. A terrible, wrenching sensation tore at his gut. He didn't want to hurt Heather — but at the same time he had to protect himself. He couldn't endure the pain of her rejection again.

It had nearly killed him the first time. She had to understand that. “I didn't mean —”

“Why did you have to bring up Sam?” she interrupted, glaring at him. She stood over the bed, her eyes smoldering.

Ed swallowed. “Maybe because you're still going out with him,” he murmured.

Heather's eyes narrowed into slits. “That's low,” she hissed. “I mean — that's really low. I didn't bring up the fact that you have a major crush on that freakazoid Gaia Moore, did I? No. Because I didn't want to spoil the moment.”

The pain in Ed's stomach began to spread in waves throughout his entire body. He shook his head. “Heather, look, I —”

“Why don't you tell me what this is really about?” she barked. “Because I already know. The fact of the matter is that you don't think I'm good enough for you. That's it, isn't it? And you're just using Sam and your stupid accident as an excuse.”

Something snapped inside Ed's brain. Pain instantly turned to anger. She had no right to accuse him of using his accident as an
excuse
. For anything. Ed might have done a lot of dishonest, sad, lowly, lame things — but he never, ever did that.
Never
.

“You don't know what the hell you're talking about,” he spat.

“I don't?” she cried, her voice cracking. Tears began flowing freely down her cheeks. “Then why are you being such an asshole?”

He shook his head again. “I'm not. I care about you, Heather. I . . .”

“You
care
about me? Oh, thanks! Thanks a million! Do I get fries with that?”

Oh, Jesus
. There was that classic bitchy humor: the snappy comebacks he both loved and hated. In a way the little remark summed up the entire situation: Ed both loved and hated
her
, too. Everything about her. The way she was so beautiful. The way she acted. And he could never seem to sort out his feelings. He laughed miserably in spite of himself, but Heather was already tugging on her loafers and heading for the door. She stumbled as she tried to walk and get dressed at the same time.

“I'm glad you think this is funny,” she growled.

“Heather, come on,” he protested. “Don't go, all right? I'm sorry.”

“Me too, Ed,” she said. “Me too.”

He flopped back down on the mattress. Well. So much for a little Friday night reunion. He should have just kept Heather confined to his fantasies. Reality was always a hell of a lot more complicated.

For
the first time in my life, plans are coming together more quickly than I ever could have anticipated. Gaia has all but pledged herself to me. I had no idea she would reach out so quickly, with such abandon. Then again, I had no idea that Ella would fail so dramatically.

How could the woman be so foolish? Did she really think I wouldn't find out about her attack on my niece? Did she really think she could hide her depraved secrets from me?

But none of that matters now. I must keep my rage in check. I must act with decisiveness and detachment. Because soon my life will have no more room for rage. It will only have room for love.

The love of Gaia. My sweet Gaia.

His mind was blank. Maybe this was what prizefighters felt after they had gone ten rounds in the ring with the heavyweight champion.

STRANGE HOW NEW YORK CITY COULD change so fast. Only yesterday it had seemed like the most awful place in the world: a dingy, frozen wasteland overrun by perverts and psychopaths. But now it was as if Gaia were looking at it with a new pair of eyes.

The grimy ugliness had transformed into cosmopolitan beauty; the unsavory characters now seemed to add to the limitless diversity. All right, yes . . . the weather sucked, big time. But other than that, it was a great place to be. Perfect — if only Ella didn't live here as well. Or Sam, for that matter.

Only now it looked like there was a distinct possibility that Gaia wouldn't have to see
either
of them again.

She buried her head in the folds of her coat to protect herself from the bitter wind as she trudged east toward First Avenue. A part of her felt like skipping. She couldn't believe she had asked Uncle Oliver if she could come live with him. She hated asking anyone for anything. But the idea had just popped into her brain and from there had exited right out her mouth — and suddenly it was out there,
out there
in the open . . . and he hadn't said no. He hadn't said no!

Okay, she knew she shouldn't get her hopes up. He hadn't said yes, either. Not exactly. He'd said that such a move would be complicated, but that they should have dinner again on Monday to discuss it further. Still, as far as Gaia was concerned, that was all the “yes” she needed. She was certain Oliver could handle whatever sticky legal matters would arise from getting the hell out of the Perry Street Penitentiary. Then her years of getting shuttled from one shitty foster home to another might finally be over.

She glanced down at her watch. It was nearly midnight, but she wasn't tired at all. Not in the least. Her brain was like a spinning wheel, imagining all sorts of future scenarios and conversations: “Oh, my uncle said he would take us . . .,” “My uncle gave me permission . . .,” “I'm meeting my uncle after school.” It was a dream, yet it was real. A new life was about to begin. She just had to share the news with someone.

So she knew very well why her feet were leading her in this direction.

They were taking her straight to Ed Fargo's apartment.

She needed to talk to someone about this, and she knew that Ed was the only one in whom she could confide. It was time to end their ridiculous argument — or whatever it was. So Ed had spent some time with Heather. Big deal. Heather's sister was in the hospital. Heather
needed
a friend, a real friend — not any of the regular, shallow, narcissistic FOHs. And Gaia knew that Ed was far too decent a guy to deny somebody his companionship. No, if anything, this whole week of weirdness had been
Gaia's
fault. She'd been too caught up in her own problems to have any perspective. Which was typical. Gaia knew she could be a grade-A bitch.

But now it looked like all her problems had been solved.

Again she shook her head, reeling from it all. There were still so many things she needed to sort out. Was it really true that her father had engineered her mother's death? Was
that
what Oliver was trying to insinuate? Just the mere thought of it filled her with nausea. But Oliver spoke so cryptically; it was hard to determine what was real and what wasn't.

She picked up her pace. She was sure Ed could help her figure this out. Ed always came through. Always.

“COME ON, HEATHER.” ED GROANED. “You don't have to do this. Really.”

Heather refused to look at him as she yanked her coat out of the front hall closet. If she looked at him, she knew she would be overcome by remorse. And she had to hold her ground. It was
his
fault this night had turned into a disaster. Not hers.

“So now you're giving me the silent treatment?” he teased.

She scowled at him, trying to ignore how cute he looked with his hair disheveled and shirt rumpled. “Shut up,” she muttered.

“What do you want from me?” Ed demanded.

“I want you to get out of the past,” Heather replied. “It's over. We're living in January, of this year, right here, right now. Remember? There's nothing either of us can do to change what happened.”

Ed's face darkened. “You're right,” he murmured. “We can't change it.”

The accusing tone in his voice made her pause. She stared at him. His face was ashen.

“What?” he demanded bitterly.

“That's what this is all about,” she said in a broken whisper. “You still blame me. You blame me for the accident. You've never forgiven me —”

Luckily, before she could start sobbing, something interrupted her. It was the sound of the buzzer.

She and Ed exchanged a quick, confused glance.

“I thought you said your parents weren't coming home,” she mumbled.

“They
aren't
,” Ed said, looking vaguely apprehensive. Not that she could blame him. Either the person buzzing was his mom or dad — or there was a complete psycho downstairs. Or a burglar. The options weren't exactly promising. Who else would show up uninvited at midnight in the dead of winter?

Ed rolled over to the buzzer and pressed the talk button. “Hello?” he answered.

“It's me, Ed. Can you let me up?”

Heather's jaw dropped.

Well. Damn. She recognized the voice. Instantly. Of course. There was no mistaking it. Funny: She'd been
right
about who was downstairs. It
was
a complete psycho. Gaia Moore certainly fit that category.

Ed's eyes flashed from the buzzer to Heather, then back again. She could see the blood draining from his cheeks. She couldn't help but laugh dismally. A perfect ending to a perfect night, wasn't it? Had Ed
planned
this? She wouldn't put it past him. He did have a screwed-up sense of humor that she'd never quite gotten.

“I — I wasn't expecting her,” Ed stammered clumsily. He shook his head, his eyes wide. “Seriously, I have no idea —”

The buzzer rang again, loudly and insistently.

Heather rolled her eyes. No . . . Ed hadn't planned this. He wasn't a liar, and besides, it was just too twisted — even for him. But of course, she knew he wouldn't turn Gaia away, either. He was too polite. She sniffed and marched to the door. “I'm out of here,” she muttered, feeling very hollow. “This is getting way out of hand.”

“Wait!” Ed cried. “We have to —”

“There's nothing more to say,” she stated, opening the door. “Look . . . I know how I feel about you. And that isn't going to change. Nothing can change that: not your accident, not your being a total
asshole
tonight, not the fact that you blame me for what happened to you. Not even the fact that you insist on hanging out with that freak downstairs.” Her voice broke, and she started to sob. She didn't even know what she was saying anymore; she had completely lost control. And she hated that feeling. She always needed to be
in
control. “But right now I have to get out of here. Right now I can't
stand
you.”

With that, she slammed the door behind her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her entire body shook. She headed for the fire stairs. That way she wouldn't have to bump into Gaia on the way out. Judging from the state she was in, there was a very good chance she might just kill Gaia Moore if she saw her tonight.