London Escape (24 page)

My breath suddenly goes out of my chest like someone punched me, and my words come out in a flurry. “But who? Why? Did you jump in after her?”

But he doesn’t respond; he just shakes his head.

 I shake my head now too, as I come back to the present. Ever since then I’ve been plagued by the same dream. Falling, always falling, and drowning. These dreams are somehow worse than the dreams about the basement and the handcuffs.

Not knowing what else to do I shuffle downstairs to the kitchen. I’m just about to raid the fridge when a drowsy voice calls out my name.

“Katherine?”

“Dad.” I spin in the direction of his voice. He looks as tired as I feel as he steps into the dim light of the fridge. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m used to it. I’ve had insomnia for years now,” he explains.

Somehow I’m not surprised. I wonder if he has the same dreams I do. I pour us both a glass of orange juice and he nods his thanks.

“So, listen,” he begins.

I roll my eyes, knowing exactly where this is going.

“I think it’s time you went to see a therapist, Kit.”

“Really, Dad?” I hop up onto the kitchen island.

“I’m serious, you haven’t been sleeping, I can tell. It’s not good. Halcyon has some great therapists who are very highly trained in this particular area.”

It makes me shudder to think their therapists were specially trained to talk to kids whose parents have been murdered or killed in action.

“I’m fine, really,” I insist, much like I have many times since this past summer.

He sighs. “I just think you need someone to talk to about all this, besides me.”

“I have Jason,” I say automatically, before I can catch the lie. The truth is, we haven’t spoken in weeks, and I have yet to even tell him what I’ve learned about my mom’s death.

“Just promise me, if this doesn’t get better soon, you’ll talk to someone?”

I nod my agreement, but only because I don’t feel like arguing. Things had gotten much better between my dad and I in the past few months. I try not to think about what it has taken to get us here. He is finally trusting me again, which I’m sure is hard since I ran away to London over the summer to save Jason. As far as forgiving his secrets and lies about his job and his past, that one I’m still working on. And it will take time, just like it will take time for him to fully trust me again. He’s made a few concessions too, like letting me go to self-defense classes. I’ve been kidnapped once now, and on the rare chance it might happen again, I want to be ready. Considering my family’s history, I’m not leaving anything up to chance.

“When are you leaving?” I ask.

He looks at me in surprise.

“You have that faraway look in your eyes again, the one you get right before you board a plane on some hair-brained mission for Halcyon,” I tease. Part of our new agreement is that he has to tell me where he is going for work, even if he can’t tell me all the details. Considering most of his work is highly classified, there is usually little he can tell me besides his destination.

“Amsterdam, in the morning,” he says with a pained grin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I already know where this is going.

“But it’s your birthday tomorrow, and you’re turning eighteen.”

“And I’ll be fine. We can celebrate when you get back in—”

“Two weeks, the 24
^th
,” he finishes, looking guiltier than before.

“Christmas Eve? You’ll be home on Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I already talked to Alexa’s parents, they’ve agreed to let you come stay with them, I was going to tell you in the morning.”

For a moment, all my old emotions seem to boil over. It’s like nothing has changed and we’re back to where we were six months ago, only now I know he’s off risking his life instead of doing business deals. At least this time he seems to notice my annoyance, unlike before when he would just ignore me.

“I was going to surprise you, but I can see you need a little good news,” he begins. “When I get back we’re going to take a vacation together, I was thinking somewhere warm and tropical like St. Lucia.”

“Or skiing in Switzerland,” I put in hopefully. At least I would have something to look forward to.

He grins at me. “Whatever you want, we can even bring Alexa.”

Of course I will want to bring Alexa; after all, she’s my best friend. Jason’s name is noticeably absent from the invitation. Though he doesn’t know the exact details, my dad knows the two of us haven’t been speaking.

“Sounds great,” I say, resolving to decide the rest later.

He drains his glass and puts in the sink before speaking again. “So listen, you’ll be careful while I’m gone right? You guys can hang out here, but I want you to use the security system at all times. All nights are to be spent with either Alexa’s mom or dad.” He’s gone back into over-protective dad mode, just like before. Only this time I can hardly blame him.

“I’ll be good,” I promise. He’s still looking at me, and for a moment I feel a rush of concern. “You’ll be careful too, right?” I ask.

He nods. “I always am.”

“Okay, good,” I sigh.

I don’t even bother going back to bed. I’m either too afraid I won’t be able to sleep at all, or just afraid of what I might dream, I can’t tell which. Instead I settle on the couch in the den and flip the TV on. There’s nothing on but infomercials, but at least it keeps my mind off all the things I’d rather not think of. It’s kind of scary how good I’m getting at compartmentalizing my memories. Or at least burying them down deep where they can’t hurt me. I guess it’s one good thing my dad has taught me.

I must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing I know I’m suddenly woken up by a muffled buzzing sound. I blink at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. Clearly it’s now morning, and the sun is made even brighter by the freshly fallen snow on the yard. I look around frantically for a moment, trying to locate the source of the buzzing. After a cursory glance around I realize the sound is coming from the couch cushion beneath me. Dropping to my knees in front of the couch I shove my hand under the cushion and pull out the offending object: my cell phone. I can’t quite remember how it had gotten there exactly. Perhaps I had stuffed it there in a rage after yet another call went straight to Jason’s voicemail. The name on the caller ID, however, isn’t his.

“Hey Alexa,” I answer, a little breathlessly.

“Happy Birthday!” she exclaims loudly, then launches into the birthday song.

I pull the phone away from my ear and frown at it. When she finally finishes singing I put the phone back to my ear. “Thanks… I think.”

“So, listen,” she begins.

Automatically I sigh. I know Alexa, she’s my best friend, always has been. And when Alexandra De le Vega begins a sentence with “listen” it can’t be good. It only means one thing.

“I got in a little trouble,” she states. “I kinda sorta ruined a two thousand dollar dress and I’m grounded until further notice.”

“Alexa,” I sigh.

“I know, I know. I snuck out to go to a party and I didn’t have anything to wear so I borrowed the dress from my mom’s boutique. Everything was fine until some jerk spilled red wine on it.”

I don’t even want to ask what she was doing a party where people were drinking red wine. At least this time she has gotten in trouble for something fairly innocent, unlike last summer when she was grounded for hacking into her dad’s bank account. Besides, who am I to judge, I’m the one who got grounded for an eternity for running away to London and getting myself kidnapped. Still, my crimes are more understandable, or at least they should be. My brain is sort of programmed wrong, thanks to my parents. I’m a danger magnet.

“I’m so, so sorry Kit. I’ll make it up to you. As soon as I’m ungrounded we can do whatever you want to celebrate. We’ll take a limo to the city, get sushi—”

I cut off her apologetic tirade. “Do you know me at all?”

“Okay then, we’ll rent a shredder and shred every photo of Jason Barron you own,” she says, only half-joking.

When I don’t reply she speaks up again. “He still hasn’t returned your calls?”

“No.”

“I’m sure he’s just busy, this is his first semester at Yale, after all,” she defends.

I ignore the fact that she is actually taking up for him on this and reply, “You don’t know Jason like I do, he’s ridiculously brilliant, he could do this stuff in his sleep. He can’t be that busy. I bet—” But my sentence is cut off as my phone chimes in my hand.

“What’s that?” Alexa asks.

“It’s a text from Jason,” I answer, my stomach plummeting to my feet as I’m suddenly reminded of the frantic text I received this past summer. It’s a silly thing to be so upset about, I know. But in a flash I’m back again, and the unmistakable feeling of unease that I had felt that night sweeps over me like a cloud. Completely ignoring Alexa’s curiosity on the other line I press the button to read the message.

“Hey birthday girl. Dinner tonight?”

I almost drop the phone.

2. CURIOSITY

A
barrage of warring emotions wash through me, each more powerful than the last. Audacity is the first. How dare he just causally ask me out for dinner when he’s been ignoring me for months? Anger is next, of course, because it’s so like Jason, to be completely nonchalant and carefree all of the time. And finally, I feel only an overwhelming sense of curiosity.

“Hello? Hello?” Alexa is calling out. I’m still staring vacantly at the phone in my palm, so her voice sounds far away.

“Sorry,” I mumble, pressing it back to my ear.

“So, what’s going on?” she asks for what must have been the tenth time.

“Jason wants to go out to dinner tonight,” I say numbly.

“Oh, that’s good. You should go,” she states.

There it is again, Alexa taking Jason’s side. Something is up, I know it. Before last summer the two of them could hardly be in the same room without bickering. They are as different as night and day. Of course, when Jason and I arrived home safely last summer she had punched him and hugged him. That greeting pretty much sums up the way they feel about each other.

“Kit?” Alexa asks. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to decide…” My voice trails off.

“You should go,” she says firmly. “Listen, my mom is calling me, I’ve got to run. Have fun with Jason tonight.”

The line goes dead before I can reply. I don’t mind, my thoughts are already spinning, ideas humming in my mind. The feeling is unmistakable. Alexa had called it my “spidey sense” once, when she noticed my uncanny ability to tell when someone is lying or not. It has come in handy over the years, for sure. But it wasn’t until last summer that I realized it was more than just a built-in lie detector. Intuition, my dad calls it. And I guess that’s what it is. It’s nothing supernatural. Somehow I have the innate ability to choose and act in an instant and almost always be right.

I am highly intuitive. Just like her. I close my eyes as the wave of emotion washes over me and passes, like it always does. My mom had the same talent, or so my dad has told me. This time I shake off the memory of her. I have other things on my mind. Jason, for one, will be waiting for my reply. As always, I don’t have to think too hard on how to respond. The feeling of curiosity is still tingling through me. What has he been up to all this time? Why hasn’t he called before? Is this it, is he finally ready?

Without a second thought I type my reply. “Sure. When and where?”

I wait a few breathless moments for his reply.

“Can you come to NH? Pepe’s Pizza @ 7?”

I frown for a moment, throwing a glance out the window. It’s no longer snowing, but I hadn’t really planned on driving to New Haven and back today. Still, it would be nice to not spend my birthday home alone. Again I type another message.

“I’ll be there.”

After that there isn’t much else to be decided. I’m sure normal girls would spend hours fretting over what to wear or how to fix their hair. I’m not a typical girl. Besides, this is Jason; he’s seen me at my best and worst many times over our years together. My appearance today won’t change anything between us.

Still, I rise from the couch where I had spent most of the night and shuffle upstairs to shower. As I do I can’t help but wonder what exactly it is he wants. It can’t be a coincidence that after months I’m finally back on his radar again. I had been telling Alexa the truth, I know he wasn’t just too busy to call. Jason is predictable, and even after surviving the events of last summer together, he’s never going to be fully committed to me. The sooner I realize that, the better off I’ll be.

After wrapping my hair up in a towel and donning my bathrobe again, I slip down the stairs to the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee. The house seems emptier than usual and even my muffled footsteps seem to echo off the walls. I’m used to my dad being gone, since most of my life he’d been off on one venture or another. But now that I know he isn’t stuffed inside a board room in Scranton, but rather chasing down drug cartels in Central America, it feels different. How could it not?

I fill my mug and toast a bagel, thinking inexplicably of my dad again. There is a part of me, deep inside, that wonders if I can ever truly forgive him for keeping so many secrets from me. But another part of me wants so badly to understand and to forgive. Everything has changed. Everything I have always thought about him turned out to be false, or a half-truth. But somehow I can’t help but like the person he’s turned out to be. Jason had called it cool having a dad who was a real-life James Bond. At the time I didn’t see the appeal. But on the nights when I have the nightmares about the basement inside the warehouse, my dad is always there. He saved us. I can’t forget that. Wherever he is today, whoever he is facing, I prayed he would come to back to me safely. It’s all I can do.

I spend the rest of the morning killing time. I toss a load of laundry on to wash, flip through TV channels, and ignore any and all text messages from Alexa demanding to know what I’m wearing tonight. Finally I decide it’s time to get ready, the traffic is going to be bad enough as it is.