Swallowing convulsively, trying not to gasp too loudly for air that suddenly seemed thin and inadequate, Nadia slipped out of the bed. The pain of guilt and loss doubled her over, and she put her hand over her mouth to try to hold it all in. Agnes didn’t stir, but Nadia knew it was only a matter of time. She staggered out into the hall, planning to lock herself in the bathroom and sob her heart out, but when she turned to close the door, she saw Nate draped awkwardly over the living room couch.
As if he felt her gaze upon him, Nate turned his head and opened his eyes. Her face must have looked awful, because he sat up quickly and held his arms out to her. The idea of crying in the bathroom lost its appeal, and Nadia quickly crossed the distance between them and practically flung herself into his arms. She tried her best to muffle her sobs against his chest while he held her tightly and rocked her back and forth, an anchor in her storm of emotion.
She cried until her throat was raw and her head felt swollen to twice its normal size. Her eyes burned and her chest ached. Mingled with the devastating grief was a rage so enormous she didn’t know how she could ever manage to hold it in, and if Chairman Hayes were to appear before her, she knew she would happily kill him with her own two hands.
“I’m so sorry, Nadia,” Nate said into her hair, his own voice choked with sympathy. “There’s nothing I can do to make this right, but I swear to you, if it’s in my power, I will make my father pay for what he did.”
Nadia squeezed him tightly, grateful for his steadfast support. Cold logic told her that their impromptu teen resistance movement was just a pretty fantasy to hang their faltering hopes on, but she didn’t voice her doubt.
“Thank you.”
And although she figured she should wash her face and get back to bed, Nadia found she needed the warmth of Nate’s friendship too much to go anywhere just now. She’d bask in it just a little longer before she made another attempt to sleep …
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Nate’s foot was going numb, but he didn’t have the heart to move and risk waking Nadia. She had fallen asleep on the heels of her violent burst of emotion. He considered picking her up and carrying her back to her bed, but figured that if she’d found rest in his arms, he ought to leave her there. He closed his own eyes and hoped he’d drift off, but there was little chance of that. The couch hadn’t been that comfortable to start with, and it was even less so now that he was semi-sitting up and had Nadia sleeping on him.
In truth, Nate didn’t think there’d been much chance of him sleeping anyway. He was mentally and physically exhausted, but not enough to make his mind shut up.
It was all well and good for the four of them to run to the Basement and hide out with Kurt somewhere. Certainly it would lower the chances that they’d be apprehended by Paxco security officers. But it was hardly what you’d call a permanent solution. After all, even in the Basement, you needed money, and they didn’t have any. And how were three Executive teens and a Paxco security spy going to survive in the Basement? All well and good to declare they would set themselves up as their own resistance movement, but the real resistance movement had money and connections and resources … It was hard to put up much of a fight without any of that.
If Paxco security didn’t track them down and arrest them all for treason, then the more predatory of the Basement-dwellers would probably pick them off one by one as they tried to adapt to a life they weren’t suited for. Hell, for all he knew, Dante’s resistance buddies would be after them, too, wanting to eliminate the potential danger they could represent if they were arrested. Unless they could somehow, impossibly, beat the combined forces of his father and Thea, the future was looking far from bright.
Nate sighed and shifted around a bit on the couch, drawing a sleepy protest from Nadia.
No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t see a way out. His father had all the resources and power of Paxco at his fingertips; Nate and his friends had nothing. How could they possibly hope to do battle with, or even hide from, the Chairman of the richest, most powerful state in the world?
As the day crawled endlessly by, Nate kept chewing the problem over, his mind going in endless circles until eventually, the pull of sleep became too strong.
Nate awoke to the feel of a warm hand resting on the side of his face and an even warmer pair of lips brushing against his. He blinked his eyes open to find the living room cloaked in darkness. Kurt was squatting on his heels next to the couch, a fond smile on his face barely illuminated by the streetlight that shone right outside the closed blinds.
“Time to wake up,” Kurt whispered.
Nate had to blink a couple more times to orient himself. He was still reclined on Dante’s couch, with Nadia lying half on top of him and deeply asleep. He could hardly feel the left side of his body, and his back and neck were throbbing steadily to the beat of his heart. He stifled the urge to explain away Nadia’s presence. Kurt’s smile and affectionate greeting made it clear he wasn’t subject to inappropriate jealousy like Nate was.
“What time is it?” Nate asked, wondering if he could move without accidentally dumping Nadia to the floor.
“A little after six,” Kurt replied, no longer whispering. “You all sleep like the dead. I knocked, but no one answered. I had to let myself in.”
Nadia stirred against Nate’s chest, trying to roll away from him, still half-asleep. There was nowhere for her to roll to, so Nate tightened his arms around her to keep her from falling to the floor. She jerked fully awake, and they might both have ended up on the floor if Kurt hadn’t reached out to steady her. She sat up with a groan.
In the dim light, she barely looked like the Nadia Nate had known for most of his life. Her hair was tangled and stuck to the leftover tear tracks on her face, and her eyes were sunken. Sleep had given her some respite from grief, but he could almost see the realization that Gerri was gone creeping over her face. She swallowed hard and started brushing her hair away from her face, subtly scrubbing at the crust around her eyes.
“I’m so sorry about your sister,” Kurt said to her with genuine sympathy.
She nodded a thanks but seemed unable to muster any words.
“Guess I’ll go roust Dante out of bed,” Kurt said, standing up. “I’ll leave the Executive chick to you guys, ’cause she’d probably run screaming if I was the first thing she saw waking up.”
Probably so, Nate thought with a smile. Kurt’s hair was definitely growing back, but it looked like he was cultivating a Mohawk. He was wearing a silver mesh shirt that showed off his tattoos, along with pleather pants cut so low you could probably see his butt crack when he bent over. Add to that the three tons of metal in his ears and the facial piercings, and he looked like an Executive girl’s version of the bogeyman.
“I’ll get Agnes,” Nadia said, her voice gravelly and rough, though Nate wasn’t sure if that was from sleep or the remnants of her tears.
“Don’t turn on any lights,” Kurt warned. “This apartment has been dark for months. We don’t want any neighbors noticing it’s not empty anymore.”
Nadia nodded, and she and Kurt headed toward the bedrooms to deliver their wake-up calls while Nate stretched and winced and shook his extremities in an effort to restore feeling to them. He was so stiff he felt about ninety years old, and his leg muscles were embarrassingly sore after last night’s run. His joints popped and crackled, and in that moment when he wasn’t really thinking about anything except his own physical discomfort, he finally realized what he had to do to protect himself and Nadia and their friends from his father’s wrath and malice.