by Jill Cooper
“Game’s over.” I rip the helmet off her and her facial expression is frozen. Her blue eyes swirl as she glares at me and her soft blond hair falls straight to her jaw.
I know her face. I’m taken aback by who she is.
Cassidy Winters. No, it can’t be. My great grandniece from the future? It’s impossible. She was a nice person. She was—.
She sneers at me now, and the corner of her lip curls. “Game’s only started.” Cassidy disappears again and I’m caught off my game. I spin around, but it’s too late.
She presses her electrical baton against my port. The jolt of electricity cuts off any rational thought in my brain. I see other images I haven’t seen in a while. An old bedroom. A tomboy’s reflection in the mirror.
I smell smoke and realize it’s coming from me. Timelines I had thought were closed, flash in front of my face and only the calls from my dad cement me to the correct timeline. I groan and wipe the saliva from the corner of my mouth. I should be dead, but instead, I’m seeing things I shouldn’t. Things that can no longer be real.
Cassidy is gone, but my dad is there. I kneel next to the chair as I rush to untie him. “Dad?”
“Lara, God…” He might want to say more, but he doesn’t. We fall into each other’s arms and he grips me tightly. I’m glad for it because I’m a little girl again, trembling on the inside.
My greatest nightmare is about to unfold.
Chapter Twelve
Cassidy Winters is in the past, and trying to kill me.
In the future, Cassidy is a smart and resourceful police officer. She is cunning, and we worked together to save the day—save the future. So, what had happened to her? Had what I’d done in the process of saving the future, destroyed her?
She’d have no memory of everything we had done; only I carried that memory. If she couldn’t remember, why come back to the past to kill me? Why would she hate me that much?
“Lara,” Dad pushes me away to gaze into my face, “I’m sorry. If I knew she was only out to hurt you...”
“You know her?” My face twists as I ask the question.
He nods. “We’ve been out a few times. Nothing serious, but when she struck me from behind and I woke up here,” Dad sighs, “I knew she was using me to get to you.” He squeezes his eyes shut and hurt rolls over his face. The guilt of it all.
I’m the one who should feel badly. I grip his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known.” I couldn’t tell Dad that Cassidy is related to us. I sure hope they hadn’t kissed. Or do anything else.
She’s strong and intelligent; if she’s trying to goad me or outsmart me…well, she’s doing a bang-up job. I need to find out what she wants and how to stop her.
With any luck, I can now use time travel to help me.
“We’d better get out of here before she comes back.”
I don’t tell Dad there’s nowhere we can go that she can’t find us. Instead, when he offers me his hand to help me up, I take it. I feel as if I should be aiding him instead. If Cassidy is intent on hurting my dad to get to me, I have a problem.
A big problem.
How can I save either of them if Cassidy is intent on killing me? And I need to rescue her as much as I need Dad.
****
I take my dad home and I can’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Dad paces in the living room as I put the teakettle on in the kitchen. Taking out two mugs, I try to ignore my own thoughts and feelings. I try not to focus on what had just happened at the warehouse, but rather on what lies in front of me.
As I open the box of tea bags, a burst of pain hits my forehead—as if I’ve been stabbed. I grunt and pinch my nose together. An image assaults me. I’m standing in the lobby of an office building. There are glass windows and the tile floors shine so brightly, they’re like mirrors.
“You can’t do this, Cass. We’re supposed to be family.” I say it as if I don’t have any say in the matter. I’m playing a part.
She walks towards me. Her silver suit is the same, but her boots are tall and black. She holds the electrical sticks tight to her body, but her appearance is different. Her hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it; down to the middle of her back. “You’ve ruined everything. Cameron showed me. Cameron—.”
“Is a liar!” My jaw grinds together as I side-step, to keep myself at arm’s distance. “He wants to ruin me. Ruin our line. Cameron’s out for revenge, plain and simple. He won’t stop at just hurting me. He has to hurt all of us, and that includes you.”
Cassidy’s eyes flash with anger. “No! He saved me. He saved—without him, I wouldn’t even be here.”
“That is something we can at least agree on.”
The pain recedes and slowly I pull myself back into the present. It’s as if I’d sped down a dark tunnel, seeing nothing but a pinprick of light in the distance. My breathing is erratic and my sense of touch seems lost. I can’t feel the box of tea bags in my hand, and it’s as if I’m not inside my body. I gulp, able to hear my heartbeat as splotches of blood fall from my nose and onto the countertop.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
On the counter, my phone rings, but the sound is muffled as if it’s under water. I’m barely in control of my actions as I pick it up and place it to my ear. “Hello?” It sounds as if it is someone else’s voice.
“You all right? Did you find your father?”
It’s Marcus. My eyes close and I breathe out nice and slow. My heartbeat is returning to normal and the pounding of the drum in my head ebbs. “Yeah, my dad’s okay. Just…was a miscommunication.”
I hate lying to Marcus, but he can’t know…not yet. It might put him in danger too. “Well, good. Since nothing’s amiss, Cameron is hosting a press conference this evening.”
“What?” My eyebrows furrow. A press conference? Already? Well, he certainly was wasting no time.
“He sprung it on me as well. I don’t like it. He hasn’t requested you be there personally, but…” Marcus’s voice drops, “I need you there. We have no idea what it is he’s going to say. It’ll be important for the press and public to see you. I don’t want them to forget why the TTPA was formed in the first place.”
I’m in no shape to go out in public or to pretend to like Cameron Kincaid. “Marcus—.”
“Don’t let this dream go up in smoke. It was yours. Delilah’s. We still need you. Tell me you’re still in.”
His voice is as determined as it has ever been and it arouses the same in me. I take a deep breath. “I’m in. Just tell me the time and I’ll be there.”
“Six o’clock. Tapas at seven. If you don’t want to arrive alone…”
“No,” I squint to fend off a swell of pain, “No, I can scrounge up my own date. Thanks, Marcus.” If Cameron thinks he’s the only one who can play games, he has another thing coming.
****
Dad’s tea goes untouched and he rubs his hands on his thighs. “You’re sure it’s safe for you to go tonight?”
“I’ll be fine.” Over the years, I’ve had a lot of practice at lying and it serves me well. Dad doesn’t even bat an eyelid. I hate lying to him, but tonight especially, I don’t have any other choice. “It’s just work. There will be plenty of security guards around.”
“Like the ones around Delilah?” Dad sighs as he says it and rubs his jaw. “Sorry, that was low of me. Just—sorry. I worry.”
I knew. God, how I knew. I lean in and give him a squeeze. When he hugs me, I fall against his chest and relish his big papa-bear hug. Once, I had thought there was nothing a hug from him couldn’t fix. Going back to those days would be easy, or would be if my time-travel skills are working again.
“In the warehouse.” Dad studies his mug as he spins it on the table. It doesn’t take a lot to see the worry on his face. “I saw what she did. How she disappeared and reappeared. I saw you too, matching her moves.”
Taking a deep breath, I hold it. I wait for him to finish.
He gazes up at me and the shine in his big
brown eyes reflect he is troubled. “Everything around you lit up, and it bubbled. Time distorted or something. One second you were there and the next, it’s like you just weren’t. I tried to move, but it was like moving through sludge…” Dad took a long sip of his tea. “You slowed time down around you, so you could be faster. I thought you said you couldn’t do that anymore.”
“I didn’t think I could,” I admit it quietly, not just to him, but to myself, “But when she shocked me…when I thought she might hurt you…” I blink slowly and my mind churns away, “I think they killed Delilah to get a reaction out of me. To get me to try to travel in time. And when that didn’t work…”
“Why?” Dad’s brow furrows. “Wouldn’t that make you more dangerous? To awaken everything you’ve tried so hard to forget?”
“I don’t know what they want, or why.” I chew on the inside of my lip. “Don’t tell Mom, okay? Jax. Molly. Anyone. We need to keep this between us or they might be in danger too.”
Dad grips my hand. “I know how to keep a secret. It stays between us, but be careful, Lara. I waited years to get out of that prison cell. I’m not ready to lose you.”
I smile briefly. When the doorbell rings, I stand up with dread. Dad squeezes my fingers and peers up at me. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”
I nod. Truth of the matter is, I don’t have a choice.
When I pull the door open, Donovan stands on the other side. In his best suit, he looks dapper, but the lines on his face are severely drawn. His eyes hold a bit of hope mingled with sadness. He holds a garment bag out to me.
“I hope this will do.”
Unzipping it, I gaze upon one of my favorite dresses. A form-fitting purple dress that really sets off my eyes.
“It’ll do.”
Chapter Thirteen
We ride in the back of the limo in silence, the breadth of the ocean between us once again. Sitting in my favorite dress with my legs crossed, I’m transfixed by the sky. The twinkling lights from the skyscrapers after dark mesmerize me. Gives me something to gawk at so my mind can just be blank. Be somewhere else.
“I was relieved when you called,” Donovan says, finally breaking the silence.
A simple sentence. A simple admission, not one that heals, but still I smile. We are supposed to be married in six days. Six short days, and now I’m not sure if we’ll even make it…if I will make it there—not with Cameron and Cassidy gunning for me.
“I wanted to call this morning. Even last night.” I shrug because it’s better than crying and slowly my eyes drift back to him.
“Why didn’t you?” Donovan’s eyes tick back and forth; he’s unsure if he should look at me. I’m not sure either.
“I wasn’t sure what to say.” The truth of my words hits like a ton of bricks.
“Then I’ll start. I’m sorry. Sorry for all of it.”
Sorry that he did so many things wrong? Or sorry I caught him? I wish we had time to hash it all out, but we don’t. Soon we’ll arrive at the function hall and all of this has to be put on hold.
“It hurts me, Don. Hurts me that you think I need all this to be happy. I don’t. I’d just take you as you are.”
“Even if it meant living in a box?”
“We wouldn’t be living in a box. But yes, even if it meant living in a rundown apartment. Cutting coupons. Eating canned beans. I’d do it.” I’d done it before, but Don never had. So maybe, it has less to do with me and more to do with him.
His eyes widen and then his face crumples. I’m taken aback by how my words surprise him and how, on some level, he doesn’t believe me. Maybe Mr. Confident isn’t as confident as I have given him credit for. I feel bad for him. Part of me wants to slap him, while the other part wants to take care of him, prove that he can be enough on his own.
The cars, fancy home, and clothes, even the yacht, are just window dressing. That stuff can’t make us the power couple I had thought we were. Money can’t make you laugh at night, or make you pancakes in the morning. But for someone whose whole life is about money, and the lies Patricia James had told, maybe a future isn’t possible if it means being poor.
Maybe if we were to be poor, he couldn’t love me. Couldn’t love himself.
My heart sinks like a stone at my suspicions and I stare at my lap. The talk had started on the right foot but now we’re further apart than ever.
The limo pulls over to the curb and I sit up straighter, gazing past Donovan to the city street. There are cars parked along the sidewalk and people dressed in fancy suits lingering in front of the TTPA’s front door. They must be the press waiting to get inside.
I let out a shaky breath and realize that Donovan is studying me. “Want to tell me what’s making you so nervous?”
“Cameron Kincaid.”
“If anything, he should make me nervous. You’re not the one who made a fool’s bargain.”
No, I wasn’t, but I was the reason he had targeted Donovan in the first place. I want to tell him that so he can let go of some of his guilt. Reaching for his hand, I pause, “Let’s just act natural tonight, okay? I know my future’s with you, Don. We just need to get past this. I’m pretty sure we can.”
He offers me a small smile. “You telling me that because you want to? Or because you want us to get through this night?”
My face falls and a flash of pain enters my chest. I’m sorry he feels the need to ask. I’m sorry he just doesn’t know how much I care for him. The lies, the games, all of it, have been behind us for so long, but still, my past behavior casts a shadow upon us that I can’t shake.
It’s that, or simply walk away.
The limo driver pulls the door open. Once Donovan gets out, he offers me his hand, ever the gentlemen. Standing beside him feels right, but I’m not sure how to express myself as he leads me into the TTPA. Cameras flash at my arrival and I offer them a tepid gaze.
“Ms. Montgomery, you look stunning as ever. Always on time. Am I right?” The giggling journalist, with teeth so white they shine, shoves a microphone in my face.
Time travel jokes never get old.
I brush it off with a laugh. “Always.”
Donovan offers his apologies as we push our way into the TTPA. The way he does it is soft, but stern. I cling to his arm as we spin out the revolving door into the lobby. Tables wear white tablecloths and against the back wall is a podium, where Cameron will take his place. People converge and we push our way to the front.
For a moment, we pause, and Donovan’s hand on my neck is a welcome break from the stress of life. I relax and allow my eyes to close as he massages my skin—rolling it between his fingers. Without even thinking about it, I lean into him and enjoy the warmth of his lips pressed against my forehead.
There’s something magical about the way we come together. Even with the current emotional distance between us, our attachment and love manage to connect us.
“Let’s really talk once this is over, okay?” Donovan whispers against my hair and I’m inclined to say yes on the spot. I’m inclined to wave my hand and just forget anything negative between us ever happened at all.
I don’t get the chance as Marcus steps up beside us, a grave expression on his face. “Lara. Mr. James.”
Donovan nods, and already his hand is shoved into his pocket. Maybe he doesn’t like Marcus. They have their differences, and most of it has to do with me. “Hey, Marcus. Any idea what’s going on tonight?”
Marcus sighs. “Hell if I know. Mr. Kincaid shut me out. After Lara left today, he threw his weight around with a—pardon the expression—a shit-eating grin if I ever saw one. Like he won.”
The words send a tingle up my leg.
“He was in Delilah’s office for hours having a closed-door meeting that I wasn’t privy to.”
I don’t like the sound of that at all. “Who was he meeting with?”
“Phone call,” Marcus shrugs, “I don’t know, but if you want access to the logs…”
“And have you get
caught?” I raise my eyebrows, “If we’re going to outsmart Cameron, I’m going to need you here on the inside.”
“Outsmart him at what?” Donovan asks.
I nod my head toward the podium as Cameron heads out from behind the curtain. “Looks like we’re about to find out.”
Cameron takes the podium. The lights intensify on him, but toward the back, a person stands, hidden in the shadows.
“Thank you.” Cameron lifts his hand in a wave, a simple gesture. Dimples appear on his cheeks when he smiles and it turns me cold because of how familiar it all seems. “Thank you for appearing tonight at such short notice. My dear friend, Ms. Delilah Chase,” Cameron’s face falls in what is supposed to be grief and sadness, but it looks false on him, “My dear friend, Delilah, was brutally murdered a few days ago. She entrusted me with this fine organization, the TTPA, and it’s my job to honor her last wishes.” Cameron reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of blue paper. As he unfolds it, I recognize it as a legal brief.
“And I, Delilah Chase, of sound mind and body, wish beyond hope, that the TTPA can be persuaded to loosen Time Travel restrictions.” The crowd gasps and I feel faint. I don’t know where he had gotten that document, but it can’t be real. It just can’t. That’s not what Delilah had wanted. I knew her, loved her…it just wasn’t true.
I step forward without meaning to and Donovan reaches for my hand, but I snarl up at Cameron anyway.
If he sees me, it doesn’t show on his face. He just keeps reading, occasionally gazing up at the crowd.
“It’s been my dream to bring well-regulated, but open, time travel to the nation and to the world. Why keep such a great power for ourselves? If not for some narrow-minded fools in this organization, it’d already be so and I’m afraid…” Cameron takes a long breath, “afraid for my life if I move forward, which is why I am entrusting my vision to Cameron Kincaid and hope the board will keep in line with my wishes. For commerce and the rights of her citizens.”