Xx
Thursday, January 18, 2007
8:00 PM
Rachel's fingers flew from the keyboard as the final chords were plucked from the air and turned to glance at Lou as the audience did their thing. She smiled, and he beamed happily back at her, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"That was awesome!" he yelled over the din. Rachel grinned and flashed him a thumbs-up sign.
"That was 'Kremlin'," Lou shouted into the microphone, partially quieting the crowd. Rachel stretched her fingers and sipped her bottled water as she scanned the audience.
Everybody looked so excited, so thrilled to be there just for the music. Rachel felt the same way. The time had flown by. Their forty-five minute set list was coming to a close, and she was nearly sad by it's departure. Being in a band was fun, she realized as Lou announced the final number and began to introduce his band mates.
As Lou screamed the names of the drummer and the bassist, Rachel readied herself for her name and then the song. As she set back down her water, her eye caught a flash of something familiar in the crowd. Whippet-quick, she turned rapidly back around, her heart racing.
He was there. Alex. Under that hood. She'd seen the eyes. The scar.
"Rachel Redford!" Rachel snapped to attention and forced a nervous smile as she waved to the audience. When she spoke into the microphone, her voice was shaking despite her best efforts to control it.
"And the man who—who started it all—Al—Lou Whitman!" Rachel said, hurriedly returning to her post. Lou stared at her, a frown wrinkling his nose.
"Are you okay?" he mouthed, sensing her anxiety. She nodded, sweaty, as they started the next song.
Rachel couldn't focus. She missed at least half of her notes and sensed the tension radiating from her band members when she messed up. But she couldn't help it. Halfway through the song, she chanced a glance back out into the audience. He was gone. Had she imagined it?
She let herself believe that as they unpacked and loaded their things back into the van. Lou grabbed her arm as she carefully stored her keyboard case between the amps.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Rachel bristled slightly and backed away. "But I'm not taking the van back. I think I'm going to walk to the hotel. I need a little air."
He beamed at her, his hair frosty where the sweat had turned to ice. "I'll come with you. Could use the exercise."
She couldn't refuse without looking suspicious—and if she looked distrustful in the least, all Lou had to do was call her parents. "Okay."
Rachel hugged herself as they walked briskly down the Cambridge street. Lou jumped suddenly, making Rachel's heart race.
"God," she gasped as he laughed.
"Sorry," he replied eagerly. "I just remembered—there's this great little café that I have to take you to before we go. It's amazing. Best coffee in the world."
"Sounds good."
"How about now?"
Rachel paused, biting her lip. Since she hadn't had the opportunity to at least walk alone and clear her mind, she was hoping to be able to lock herself in the hotel room and go to sleep. Of course, Zozo was sharing with her, but that didn't mean they had to talk. "Um. Okay."
"Great!" Rachel submitted and let Lou lead her to the green line that would take them back to downtown Boston. Onboard the quiet train, there were only about twenty people. A few late-night commuters, a homeless man, a family, and some teenagers. Nothing to get excited over. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief as she found a seat next to Lou.
She tried not to get edgy as he wrapped his arm around the seat behind her. It meant nothing. He was just relaxing. Lou didn't like her that way. They were friends. He was one of the few who she could talk to about The Incident without feeling as if she were some sort of a circus freak or celebrity.
Lou was still chattering about the concert. "—and when I announced your name, wow! I thought they were going to explode, the way they clapped!"
Rachel forced a modest smile. "Nah. Seriously, Lou. It's just because of the recent press coverage on me. I doubt it has anything to do with my mediocre keyboarding skills."
"Mediocre my ass," he argued, investing himself personally in her self-esteem. "You were great out there, tonight, Rach. Honestly. And don't say it's the press coverage. Because if it were that, then I'd feel some serious shit about my band right now."
She laughed, beginning to unwind and actually look forward to that coffee. Maybe some down time with a friend was just what she needed.
The train rattled on in silence for a few moments, stopping here and there to deposit or pick up passengers. Rachel felt herself drifting asleep when Lou said her name.
"Yeah?" she yawned, looking into his eyes. He looked suddenly fretful, sheepish to say the least.
"I—can I talk to you about something?" Obviously he hadn't detected her little snooze, so she nodded.
"Shoot."
"I—um—I know this is weird to be asking you, so just bear with me, all right? Let me ask you, and then I'll explain."
"Gotcha." Rachel felt the knot in her stomach that told her what was coming before he actually said it.
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
Yup. She'd been anticipating but it still made her guts contort. "I--"
"Wait. Let me explain. I've liked you for more than a year now, always too scared to say anything. When I heard what had happened with Rocher, I was—I was devastated, to say the least. I didn't sleep for a week, the television on and my phone at my side, waiting for news. When they found you, Rach—it was one of the best days of my life.
And then, when you were sick, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. Me, the gentleman. I could help you, and we could be friends. And then maybe you would like me. Okay. I'm sorry if I've scared or intimidated you, but I had to tell you. I've been waiting for a year to say that." He took a deep breath and looked expectantly at her.
Rachel was having difficulty breathing. It was so hard, at the moment, to choose from the love she'd left behind to the love she could have now, with Lou. But when it came down to it—
"Lou, I love you so much," she admitted. His face lifted. Now came the hard part. "As a friend. I'm sorry. But I don't think I'm ready to move on yet from what happened—it was hard. For a while, I didn't even have the will to live. But thanks to you, more than even Zozo and Martin, I've started to realize how good things can be if I let them. But really. I'm sorry. You deserve much better than a wreck of a girl like me."
"Not so much of a wreck as a head-on collision," he said. But his lips weren't moving, and the smirk in his voice wasn't matching his crestfallen voice.
Because he wasn't the one talking.
Rachel felt a pair of hands wrench her to her feet, gripping under her arms. She screamed and felt the strong hand clap itself over her mouth. She saw more than heard Lou yell, rise to his feet, and the flash of the silver blade at her neck that silenced him instantly.
"You come any closer and she dies," said her captor. Her captor. He slammed her against the wall of the subway, and the cart rattled as people tittered nearby. Rachel felt the dizzying pain of the window smacking against her back and moaned, trying to establish her footing and look into his face.
"Oh my--"
"Surprised?" Alex smirked at her, that familiar face coming into her conscious again. It had been him in the crowd. She should have gotten the hell out of there and called the police when she'd had the chance. The bastard had probably followed her and Lou the whole way. She fought against him, wrenching from left to right in an attempt to break free.
"Let me go!"
He pushed her shoulders harder against the wall, wrapping his feet around her ankles so she couldn't move at all. "Now, Rachel, after all the fuss you put up about me leaving you, I thought you'd be ecstatic that I was back."
Her face hardened. "You left me once, you bastard, and I'm not going to give you the opportunity to do it again."
"So that's what this is about?" Alex laughed, still keeping his voice quiet enough so that the other passengers in the train couldn't identify him. "You're pissed because I left you and now you're playing the little heroine who won't go back? I'm shocked at you, Rach. I thought you were different than that."
Rachel seethed, angry and nervous. "Fuck you. Let me go."
"No. You're coming with me, whether you like it or not. Although, judging your previous actions, I thought you would want to. After what you told your mom."
"What I told my--" Ah. Their little argument. Now she remembered, and the fact that Alex had brought it up enraged her. She swung her fist up to his face, but he anticipated that and deflected her arm by slamming it down and cracking herself in the face. She moaned and nearly lost consciousness as she felt a warm liquid pour from her nose.
"Bastard!"
Alex just chuckled, his face a mask of indifference. "Sticks and stones, Rachel."
"Why are you doing this?" she groaned, as Alex clamped a hand around her small wrists. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Well, Rachel," he muttered abstractly. "We were having so much fun before, I wondered, why stop now?"
For some reason, his words sent terror running down her spine. She wondered why. You love him, she told herself. You're supposed to love him
You do love him.
That's why you're so afraid.
Alex evidently saw the change from confused and terrified to a more complacent and knowledgeable complexion in her face. She saw then, his grin.
"You get it?" he whispered. "Do you really get it now?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
Alex suddenly spun around, still tightly squeezing her arms. She winced as she glanced at Lou, who was shaking and turning a disturbing shade of yellow. It stung her when she realized that she couldn't have both of them. If she chose Alex, her life in northern New York was over. There was no state of balance.
But if that was what she had to sacrifice—so be it.
Alex sensed her inward debate and pulled her to him, whispering in her ear, "When we're secure. Okay?"
She furiously nodded her head at Lou. "Can I at least--"
"No."
"Why not--"
Alex shook her shoulders. "Nobody can know who I am, Rachel," he hissed at her as the train jerked to a stop. He nodded cheerily at the rest of the subway.
"Any of you get off this train and she dies," he chirped as the doors slid open and he ushered Rachel off. She glanced at the passengers in the cart as the train began to rattle away again, and noticed at least five people ripping their cell phones from their bags. It cheered her that so many people were concerned, but worried her.
"Alex, what are we--"
"Don't talk," he grabbed her around the shoulders and began to hurry her from the station. "Just walk."
She obliged, having to break into a near-run to keep up with his long legs. She was out of breath and sweaty again by the time they broke into the crisp air of the wintery night above. Alex didn't break stride as he brought her to a car parked in an alley across the street.
It was only when she'd finally slid inside of the beat-up Camarro that she could finally gasp for air. Rachel was coming back down when Alex started the engine and tore out onto the street.
She hurriedly clicked her seatbelt in, leaning back and brushing her forehead as she scowled at Alex. "Would you slow down? Jesus."
He sighed irritably. "I can't, Rach, not until we get to the airport. Do you realize how many calls must have been sent in to the cops tonight because of our incident on the train?"
"That's not my fault," Rachel snapped crankily. "You're the one who just had to make an entrance. I can't imagine Jackson's overly pleased with you."
"He doesn't care. It's really none of his business. So relax."
Rachel paused, her fingers dancing nervously on the armrest. "Why did you come back?"
Alex glanced at her as he spun into the airport parking garage. "What?"
"You know what. Why are you back for me? It's obviously not safe for you to be doing. Even though you didn't directly compromise your identity on that train, everybody is going to figure out who it is when I'm missing. You'll be a fugitive."
"I wasn't exactly Jim Good Boy before, Rachel," Alex sighed. "But it's not going to matter if I'm a fugitive. Jackson has things all planned out. We're going away, new identities, new home, everything."
"Where?" Rachel realized something. "And you didn't answer my question."
"I won't tell you where," Alex said, "Yet. You'll have to be surprised, because I'm not going to leave you with that much information. And you know why I came back."
"Do I?" Alex cut the engine as they found a spot and began to gather up his things. He ignored her, reaching in the back for his laptop bag. Rachel punched him in the shoulder. "Answer me!"
He looked at her, his green eyes sparkling, and Rachel realized how much things had changed. The first time she'd seen him, he'd been a grinning schoolboy with dark eyes and dark hair, somebody innocent and naïve. The second, he'd been a malicious murderer with a scary gash on his face in the forest. And this time, he was gorgeous. He was salvation. He was love.
"Because I love you," he replied huskily, touching her head. "Duh."
Rachel smiled as he pulled her to him, and they stayed that way, not kissing, but embracing.
Embracing a new life.
