by Cathy Pegau
Gennie froze. What could she possibly say? That she’d miss her after they parted ways? That she was sorry she couldn’t tell Natalia everything? That no one since Simon had believed in her as a person, instead of as an employee or a tool? That what Natalia was doing for her and her children meant more to Gennie than anything in the ’Verse?
But to say all that meant opening herself up to this woman, and Gennie wasn’t able to do that. Soon they’d be millions of kilometers away from each other, if all went as planned. What was that pirq saying about not investing in long-term relationships?
Natalia rested her forehead against Gennie’s. “Then tell me where Natya comes from.”
She wasn’t going to pursue it. Relief washed through Gennie. A lie of omission was still a lie, but it was the best she could offer. Ever.
“When I was researching you, it came up as a diminutive of your name.” Gennie kissed her throat again and trailed her fingertips along the side of Natalia’s breast. “Do you like it?”
Natalia’s hand traveled to Gennie’s hip, her palm creating delightful tingles across her skin. “I do.”
“Then Natya you will be.”
At least while they had this time together. Gennie rolled on top of Natalia and lost herself in a searing kiss.
* * *
Natalia balanced the heaping plate of eggs, sausage and toast from the dining hall in one hand as she unlocked the door. Pushing it open carefully so it wouldn’t bang against the wall, she picked up the carafe of coffee and went into the room. She set it all on the table, shut the door quietly in case Gennie was still asleep and headed to the bedroom.
She heard Gennie talking when she reached the door.
“What was that?” Natalia asked just as she realized Gennie wasn’t speaking to her, but into her comm.
“I love you too,” Gennie said, smiling. Her head came up. The smile died when her eyes met Natalia’s.
An invisible wall seemed to spring up in front of Natalia. She stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Gennie, unable to comprehend what she had just heard.
“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.” Gennie said it in the same cheerful tone, belying the wide-eyed mix of guilt and alarm on her face. She stabbed the disconnect and lowered the comm.
The world stood still, silent except for a buzz in the back of Natalia’s head punctuated by Gennie’s voice echoing against her skull: I love you. I love you. I love you.
Natalia’s first instinct was to turn around and leave, but damn it, she wanted answers. “Care to explain that?”
Gennie rose from the bed and smoothed her shirt. She was dressed for work—their last day at Grand Meridian before heading back to the real world, their real lives. Lives that, for Gennie, included someone else. The guilt and alarm were gone, replaced by a mask that showed nothing of what she felt or what was going through her head.
“It’s not what you think,” she said with a coolness that made Natalia want to shake her.
Natalia barked out a laugh. “I’ll tell you what I think, and please, correct me if I’m wrong. Though it’s not like I’m expecting much in the way of truth from you.” Gennie flinched as if Natalia had slapped her. Good. “I think whoever you were talking to doesn’t know a damn thing about what you do and how you treat them.” Natalia’s fists closed. “I don’t abide cheaters, Gennie, and even if this other person did know about me, I didn’t know about them, and that’s not right either.”
“That’s not the way it is. Not the way I am.” Color blossomed on her cheeks. Guilt? Anger? Controlling facial features and body language was one thing, but it was near impossible to thwart the body’s sympathetic reactions.
Neither moved. Neither spoke. Natalia’s heart pounded and her head hurt. She’d been a fool for giving Gennie the benefit of the doubt, and a bigger fool for thinking the woman was going to be anything more than a liar just because they worked well together, in and out of bed.
Tell me. Explain this to me. Please.
She didn’t.
Natalia smacked the doorjamb with her fist, barely feeling the sting, and turned away.
“Natya, wait.”
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
She was almost to the door when Gennie grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Damn the void, talk to me.”
“I’ve tried talking to you. I’m not the one who’s lying.” She shook off Gennie’s hand and let the hurt and bitterness come through. “Whatever’s going on here, the investigation will likely keep Reyes Corporation’s attention focused elsewhere so you can flee Nevarro. Mission accomplished, Miss Caine. Glad I could help get you the hell off my planet.”
Natalia reached the door, intent on avoiding Gennie for the next twenty-six hours until her train left.
“I was talking to my children,” Gennie said.
This time Natalia didn’t feel like she’d hit the wall but that the wall landed on her. She turned around. Gennie’s body was rigid, the muscles tense, her face showing the one thing Natalia hadn’t seen before. She was telling the truth.
Gennie pulled the chain out from under her blouse. She pressed the sides of the silver pendant. A holo of two children, a blonde girl and a dark-haired boy, hovered over the piece of jewelry. “Twins. They’re six.”
Natalia opened her mouth to say...something, but nothing came out. She closed it, trying to connect the words with the idea of Genevieve Caine being a mother. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Gennie’s chin came up, defiance glinting in her eyes. She deactivated the holo and slipped the pendant back under her blouse. “It was none of your concern.”
“None of my concern?” A sudden rush of hot anger churned in Natalia’s gut. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be with them.” Somewhere in a small corner of her brain, Natalia recognized the old anger at her own parents that she felt, but Gennie was a convenient target.
“I’m doing this for them,” she said, her voice tight.
“You’re doing this to get the Reyeses off your back so you can leave Nevarro. But it was something you did that got the Reyeses after you to begin with.”
Gennie stepped forward with an expression on her face that prompted Natalia to mentally prepare a defensive move. “I did do something to the Reyeses. I fell in love with their son and had his children.”
If the news of Gennie being a mother had felt like a wall fell on her, the fact that she was the mother of the Reyes grandchildren was like a mountain collapsing. Their conversation at The Carmen rushed back. “That’s why they’re after you.”
“They want to take Branson and Melaine, raise them ‘right,’ according to Marta Reyes.” Gennie’s eyes blazed, telling Natalia exactly what she thought of Marta’s idea of “right.” “Simon got away from them as soon as he could. He said his childhood was terrifying. That ought to tell you something about how the Reyeses rear children.”
Simon Reyes. Natalia vaguely recognized the name. “The cage fighter?”
Sadness tempered the anger in Gennie’s eyes. “I was assigned as his manager when Guy Christiansen bought stock in his career eight years ago. Simon had never been interested in the family business, but his sister Helena worked with their parents. She was the one who mentioned Grand Meridian to Simon. He left me the information I gave you.”
“Is that where he got the files, from Helena?” Why would Helena Reyes keep incriminating files on her own busines
s? It didn’t make sense to Natalia, but she’d heard stranger behaviors.
“I don’t think so. Helena and Simon were close, despite the relationship he had with their parents. They met for lunch or dinner now and again.” Gennie rubbed her fingertips against her temple, as if a headache was coming on. “Apparently she let something slip about Grand Meridian and its interplanetary potential. Simon had been planning his post-circuit career. Maybe he wanted to get a jump on whatever they were doing here before his parents could.”
“So he started asking questions.” The cage fighter had had a brain. That shouldn’t surprise Natalia. She didn’t think Gennie would be attracted to someone without one.
“When Helena wouldn’t elaborate, he did his own digging.”
“And found things that didn’t add up.”
Gennie nodded. “He’d been picking up bits and holding on to them. I don’t know why. To show his parents up? To blackmail them? Whatever the reason, they killed him for it.”
“Killed? By his own parents?” It seemed incredible to Natalia, but it wouldn’t be the first time family killed family. She barely remembered the fighter, let alone the circumstances of his death. “How?”
“Air car accident. The official report was he’d had just enough to drink to affect his reaction time but not enough to set off the car’s sensors. Except Simon rarely drank. That’s why so little affected him, they said.” Anger flared in Gennie’s eyes again. “He was expendable, as far as the Reyeses were concerned. Expendable. Their own son.” She paused to collect herself, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “At the funeral, Helena broke down and told me what she suspected, that it was Simon’s interest in Grand Meridian that got him killed.”
“He died over six years ago. Why did you wait so long to come to the CMA?”
To come to me?
“I didn’t know what was going on until after he died. He left me a letter and the information I gave you. To be honest, I had more important things on my mind.”
Natalia did a quick mental calculation. “You were pregnant.”
She nodded. “We’d told Helena. After I received the files, I realized I couldn’t risk Marta and Jackson knowing about the children, but Helena must have told them. I changed my name, hid all our location and identity info behind the highest, thickest walls I could afford, everything.”
“But they found you.”
“When I went back to work for Christiansen. One of their cronies recognized me at Guy’s house during a party, even though I’d changed my appearance some.” She shook her head. “The Reyeses hired investigators. Very good investigators I didn’t notice until it was too late.”
“So you ran again.” Natalia raked her hand through her hair. She desperately needed a shot of whisky, but there was none in the room. “Damn it, I could have helped you protect them.”
“I couldn’t. I didn’t want them dragged any deeper into this mess than they already are.” The anger in Gennie’s eyes waned and the tightness of her jaw relaxed. “They’re my children, Natya, my heart. It’s not easy to give your heart into someone else’s care.”
A twinge in her chest made Natalia wince. No, it wasn’t easy. “You should have told me. You should have trusted me.”
Gennie’s chin came up and she crossed her arms. “I didn’t know you. They’re safe where they are.”
“You aren’t.” Natalia’s voice rose until she was practically yelling. “What if something happens to you? What if there’d been an accident, and you were hurt or worse?”
Guilt ate at her gut. Gennie had come to Grand Meridian because Natalia had threatened to drop the whole thing. Damn the void. She’d put Gennie in danger.
“What if I did nothing but run and hide for the rest of my life?” Gennie was trembling, her fingers digging into her upper arms. “Do you think I don’t understand the risk? Do you think I’d rather be here or with them? I had to do this. For them.”
Natalia’s throat closed as she forced down age-old hurt. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, raw. “I know what it’s like to lose your parents. There is nothing like that pain.”
Fear and anger flashed in Gennie’s eyes. “The very idea of losing Branson and Melaine brings me to my knees. I would rather have them know I did everything in my power to protect them, even if it means being away from them, than make them wish I’d done more.” Sympathy softened Gennie’s expression. Sympathy for Natalia. “A mother will always do whatever it takes to keep her children safe, to give them the best life possible, even if it means sacrificing herself.”
Grown-up Natalia accepted that, accepted and appreciated CMA agents and others put their lives on the line in an effort to make things better for total strangers, as well as their own families. Sacrifice was part of the job. But thirteen-year-old Natalia, lurking deep inside her, still felt the loss.
She scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. When she lowered her arms, she met Gennie’s gaze. “You could have trusted me.”
She snatched her hard hat off the hook near the door and went to work.
* * *
They rode in tense silence to the train station. The last twenty hours had been almost as hard for Gennie as leaving her children. She and Natalia went to work yesterday morning, giving last-minute notice to Mac. Pirqs did it all the time, Natalia had said, changing sites with little or no warning to their boss. It didn’t faze Gennie, yet Natalia seemed bothered by it. Leaving the crew shorthanded didn’t sit well with her, even though she’d dropped out of undercover assignments in the past. Her connection to the pirq community ran deeper than Natalia cared to admit.
Now, Natalia drove down the pitted road, hands tight on the wheel, her focus straight ahead. She hadn’t said two words to Gennie since the end of their shift the day before. Had barely acknowledged her when they woke this morning with dawn an hour away, packed and left the rooming house like thieves in the night.
But the Reyeses were worse than thieves, Gennie thought. Natalia would prove that soon enough.
The station’s platform lights came into view. Several minutes later, Natalia pulled into the parking area and cut the engine. She opened the door. “We’ll just leave it here.”
Slam.
Those were the first words she’d said in hours, and Gennie had to bite back the urge to respond with an inane agreement or a rant against Natalia’s childish behavior. How could she have expected Gennie to trust a complete stranger with knowledge of her kids? Gennie had the feeling Natalia understood Gennie’s reasoning behind the deception. It was Natalia’s heart that felt betrayed. What would mend that?
They retrieved their bags from the cargo area and climbed the three steps into the station. The single room had six long benches paired to face each other. A man slept on one, a woman on another. Other pirqs heading on to the next site or wherever the cold wind took them in the wee hours. To the right, a sleepy clerk leaned on the desk behind a window. The train schedule was scrawled on a marquee over his head. The automated ticket kiosk beside the window had a faded, handwritten sign that read Out of Order.
Natalia walked up to the window, pack slung over one shoulder and a second bag in her hand. “A ticket to Pandalus.”
The man looked past her to Gennie. “Just the one?”
She pulled her comm from her pocket. “Yeah.” Natalia turned to Gennie. “Where you headed?”
Over her shoulder, the clerk’s eyebrows knit in confusion, like Natalia should know where her
companion was going. But of course she didn’t, because Gennie had never told her.
“I can buy my own—”
“I’m not trying to be nosy,” Natalia said in a clipped, tight tone.
“Corbin,” Gennie said, giving the name of the largest station to the south. Not to keep Natalia from knowing where she was headed, but to create as convoluted a trail as possible. Gennie still had the Reyeses hunting her down. She couldn’t risk them picking up on her whereabouts. After the six-hour train ride, it would take her another hour on a shuttle crossing back along the coast to another city, then a smaller air car to reach home on the South Continent.
Natalia stared at her for a few heartbeats. She hadn’t missed the fact that they were headed in exact opposite directions. She faced the clerk again and purchased the tickets. The man shrugged, punched in their information then gave them access codes to their comm tickets. Natalia and Gennie checked the electronic transfer and acknowledged receipt. They’d just have to flash the screen to the conductor. Synth paper tickets were available, but for an extra three-credit surcharge.
“Your train’ll be pulling in first, ma’am,” he said to Gennie. “In about ten minutes. The train to Pandalus is half an hour from now. Safe travels, ladies.”
Natalia nodded and headed for the double door leading to the platform. Gennie followed. No one else was out there.
“Thank you for the ticket. I’ll pay you back.”
Natalia shrugged, not looking at her but down the track. “No worries.”
Sudden anger warmed Gennie against the chill of morning air. “Damn you, talk to me.”
She faced Gennie, her blue eyes glimmering in the hanging lamp light. “What do you want me to say?”
“Something. Anything. That you’re glad we got the sample. That you’re anxious to see justice done. That you enjoyed working together, or hated it.” The words burst out of her like a pulser shot, hot and fast and just as painful. Damn the void, she hadn’t felt this lost and stupid in a long, long time. “Tell me you never want to see me again. Tell me you’ll miss me. Just—”