by MK Schiller
Aunt Rose was in the same place I’d left her, a cup of fresh tea on the table. The cat perched on her lap. “I have a plan.”
“A plan?”
“We can save Scarlett.”
“How?”
“Make it so I didn’t exist.”
She gasped, cupping her mouth. “You want me to kill you?”
I crouched next to her. The cat eyed me warily before licking his paw again. “No, you can’t kill what isn’t alive.”
“I don’t follow. Scarlett would still meet Vance.”
“I don’t think he’d hurt her. Also, if you didn’t hire him, that would help the cause.” I tilted my head. “Why didn’t you hire him the first time?”
“Because I had you. We had enough employees.”
“Well, this time you make do with one less. I think the chain of events started with me. She was supposed to go to Nashville, remember?”
“Your idea is ridiculous.”
“It’s the best one I’ve got. Besides, we’re not talking about saving one girl, but three. We can save all three girls, Aunt Rose.”
“Three?”
I sighed, wishing I didn’t have to explain this part. “My mother wouldn’t be dead if I didn’t exist.”
“That’s crazy, Flynn.”
“It’s not. The tumor wouldn’t have killed her. Plus, Anna wouldn’t be a paraplegic, and Vance wouldn’t have threatened Scarlett. Hell, the only reason he brought the gun that day was because of me.”
“Even if I believed any of this, how can I make sure you’re never born?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “If Mom gets tested in time, they will find the tumor. She won’t be able to have me. Convince her to get tested.”
“What if I can’t? What if they don’t find the tumor? There are no guarantees.”
“Then there are other ways.”
Aunt Rose shook her head. “She’d never do that.”
“She took her chances with the tumor. Convince her to make another decision. I read her journal once, and she wrote how she sought your advice out about everything.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll listen.” Aunt Rose choked out a funny laugh. “Are you sure you’re not high? Because that sounds insane, even to me.”
“It’s not. Scarlett won’t feel the loss of me, either, because I will never exist. It’s the best thing for everyone.”
“It’s suicide, and I’ll never agree to assist you with this.”
“Aunt Rose, this is what I want. You’re the only one that can help me. Please help me. I’m begging you. I would do anything for her. Even this. Help me. Help me save your sister, your niece, and the girl I love.”
“Jason—”
“I’ll make this right or I’ll die trying. Either way, it’ll be on your conscience.” I took her hand in mine. “Don’t let my death be in vain. Make this right.”
She looked far too fragile for her hand to grip so hard. Aunt Rose closed her eyes, and in the early morning light of a new day, a single tear fell from her cheek. “May God forgive me.”
“He’ll forgive you, Aunt Rose.”
She stood slowly, as if the burden I placed on her weighed her down. I helped her steady herself, anxious to hit the rewind button and right all the wrongs set in motion by my very creation.
She didn’t say a word as she stood by my car. I unlocked her door.
“Where are we going?” I asked, helping her with the seat belt.
“To the beach. I want to watch the sunrise.”
It was the best place. The warm gulf waters had robbed so much life. They had taken Tommy. It was only right they give me something back.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I didn’t remember the drive or if we even spoke. I remembered the rain on the beach. Aunt Rose praying. A lightning flash on the horizon. Salt water splashed on my feet. The breeze felt cool on my skin. I was at peace.
“You don’t have to be here for me to do this,” she said.
“I want to be.”
She nodded. The storm grew, and her expression changed. The worrisome wariness she wore when we arrived disappeared. There was a deep concentration, almost as if she was meditating. She looked younger, the wrinkled skin smoothing out slowly. The graying hair, darkening before my eyes, growing thicker with each passing second. Her flesh coloring from the pale gray to warmer tones. The storm clouds gathered over us. Then the rain poured down as if the sky staged a protest.
Tommy’s laughter mingled with Scarlett’s soft humming, even through the vicious storm. Their soft haunting melodies comforted me.
Then there was a third voice. She sang a sweet song while cradling me.
My skin tingled. My body felt lighter. The gravity keeping me centered gave way, ripping the earth beneath me as if I was in standing on the water and not the sand.
I love you, Scarlett. I’ll always love you. I’ll always find you. I chanted the words over again, my own personal meditation.
My mind was melting, but strangely the pain was numbing, not sharp. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My limbs refused to move.
Opening my eyes was impossible no matter how hard I tried. I saw the snippets of my life pass me by like photographs at super speed, some from this strand of time and others from the last.
I saw other things, too, that I wasn’t part of but were part of me anyway.
My mother and father swam on the beach, young and in love. My father bending on one knee in the sand, amidst dozens of candles all shaped in a heart, holding out a velvet box toward my mother. Keith doing the same to Anna on a carriage ride through Central Park under a flurry of snowflakes. Then me, kneeling on our rock before Scarlett. That one never happened in either strand.
Cold air filled my lungs, and I was sputtering, coughing and wet standing in front of a black door, streaked with red paint, or maybe it was a red door, streaked with black paint.
Although I’d come this far, I was still frightened to push it open. That door had become my own personal Pandora’s Box.
It opened on its own, each creak of a rusty hinge, revealing a bright white room on the other side.
Look at that, Scarlett. I’m gonna meet St. Peter. I sure do hope he counts my good deeds in all three strands. Obviously, I need all the help I can get.
But there weren’t pearly gates. Just white walls and floors that melted into each other, making me question where one ended and another began. The clicks started slow, growing louder until a pretty woman with raven hair, dressed in a long robe of silk, came into focus.
My heart stilled.
“Mom?”
“Hello, Jason.”
“Why are you here?”
“Take a walk with me, son.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
I kept staring at her, finding my features in her face. I’d seen photographs, but damn if Anna wasn’t the spitting image of her. Even her stance was like Anna’s.
“Is this Heaven?”
“No,” she said, the hem of her robe sliding against the white marble floors. My feet were bare. The tiles didn’t feel cold, though.
“Is it the other place?”
“Of course not. You don’t belong there, Jason.”
That surprised me. My past wasn’t exactly the best.
“Where are we, then?”
“There’s a lot of names for it.”
“Purgatory?”
“More like a rest area before Purgatory.”
My heart fell. “Aunt Rose and I didn’t save you then?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
She tousled my hair. “You saved me in other ways. I wish we had more time.”
“More time?”
“I wanted to be here for you and meet you in person. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
We walked to a gate. She held my hand.
“This is where I leave you.” She tilted her face up as if searching for confirmation.
&nb
sp; “You’re not coming?”
“Not physically, but my spirit always watches over you and Anna.”
I looked at the gate, my gut twisting. “Scarlett? Anna?”
“They are safe. You made quite a sacrifice, son.”
I let out a breath I’d been holding, my body feeling light by the knowledge. They were both safe. The plan succeeded—except for the woman before me. Why couldn’t I save her, too?
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“For what?”
“Because this was the only solution I could come up with.”
She nodded. “There weren’t many choices, but Jason, you got one thing very wrong.”
“What’s that?”
“No one could convince a mother to let her son sacrifice himself. At least not this mother. No power on earth or in Heaven could do that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You have to go now.”
The gates opened.
“Where am I going?”
“Where you’re supposed to be. I’ll always be with you. You feel my love, right? You’ve always felt it.”
Rose was right. My mother had a warmth in her. Her love hadn’t ended when she did. She’d always been by my side. “Yes.”
She nodded, a relieved smile spread across her face. “I asked Rose to look out for you. When Anna got annoyed with you, I asked her to forgive you. When your father couldn’t see through the haze, I told him to try harder.” She looked away, rubbing her arms. “Some prayers are answered before others. You figured it out, though.”
“Mom—”
“Good-bye, son. I love you.”
She dissipated before my eyes. I found myself on the other side of the gates. I grabbed ahold of them before they shut. I had so much more to ask her and tell her about my life, even though I was sure she already knew. My hands ached against the cold metal and my feet slid forward, being pulled.
“Let go, Jason,” she said.
“Not yet.”
But it was too late. I was not strong enough. She’d give me everything one person could give another.
“It’s time,” she said, her voice growing more distant.
“Thank you, Mom.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Mom!” I screamed, but nothing came out. Instead, salty water filled my lungs. My head was heavy, and I couldn’t move. The sensations were familiar, but not the same. I was drowning—again.
A strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me up toward the light. I sputtered and coughed until a hand clapped me hard on the back.
“You really wiped out.”
Two hands pulled me, yelling at me to get on the board. It took every ounce of energy I possessed, but I managed it. My breaths, harsh and raw, came quick. Finally, the feeling returned to my limbs.
“Damn, that was freaky.”
I smiled at the sound of Russell’s voice.
“You okay, man?”
I attempted to sit up.
“Take it easy. I think you have a concussion.”
I blinked the burning saltwater from my eyes, wondering if my ears were fucking with me. I recognized that voice, too. The voice of my other brother.
I tried again, succeeding this time to prop myself up.
“Tommy? Is that you?”
He looked worried. “Uh…yeah.”
“Shit, it’s amnesia,” Russell said.
Tommy shook his head. “Foster, you dumbass, how would he know my name if he had amnesia?”
“Maybe it’s selective amnesia.”
“How are you here, Tommy?”
“What do you mean how? I rode home with y’all yesterday.”
“I called it. Short-term amnesia,” Russ said.
Home? I scanned the horizon. Indeed, I was home on the island.
Memories came back one by one. “We go to college together. You’re my roommate. We’re on spring break.” I made each statement more to myself than them.
“That’s right, Flynn.”
“Do you know what year it is?” Russell screamed into my ear.
“Dude, he may have amnesia, but he’s not deaf.”
I looked down at my left arm. There was no solid band of black, but there was an impression inked there. A flower? No…a weed. It stood tall and straight and brave.
Turning back to Tommy, I shook my head. “What happened?”
“You wiped out.”
“I mean before that.”
“Flynn? Seriously, you’re scaring me.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. I pinched his arm.
Yanking his arm back, he almost fell off his board. “Fuck, what the hell did you do that for?”
“I just wanted to confirm you’re real.”
He rubbed his arm, scowling at me. “I think you’re supposed to pinch your own damn arm.”
I pulled him in for a big hug, almost making him fall off his board. When I pulled back, he looked so shocked, I laughed. I clasped his shoulder. “Tommy, I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you, but I love you. I’m grateful you’re in my life.”
“You want me to leave you two alone so you can make-out?” Russell asked.
I turned to him. He shook his head, holding out his hands. “Don’t hug me.”
“Too fucking late,” I said, pulling him in. I laughed even harder at his expression. Gripping him in a headlock, I gave him a huge noogie. “Foster, you’re a real pain in the ass, but I love you, too, man.”
He pushed me away. “You got a crush on me, Flynn? Cause I hate to break it to you, but you are not my type.”
I smacked him on the back. “No shit.”
“Not to mention you have a girlfriend.”
Scarlett!
“Where is she?”
They both looked at each other.
“Where?”
“Just fucking relax. She’s probably still sitting on that damn rock, but we should go back, cause I think she wants a turn at these waves. I told her she could use my board.”
“Hey, where are you going, Flynn? Wait up, man.”
I started paddling toward the shoreline, my abs against the board and my arms moving swiftly. I was on the other side of the beach, about a quarter mile from the rock. Pitching my board on the sand, I stared straight ahead. Perched on our rock, reading a book, was the most beautiful sight in the whole goddamn world.
It. Was. Her.
My heart stammered and stopped as I drank her in.
I found you.
I sprinted toward her, kicking up sand as I sped down the beach. She looked up, first with mild amusement. Then she stood, adjusting the strap of that apple green bikini. I heard her asking me what the hell I was doing before I even reached her.
Fuzzy memories were hitting me all once, but I didn’t want to give in to them. I needed her. Her jaw dropped, and she held up her hands. I didn’t slow down. I collapsed on her. We both tumbled to the ground.
“Shit, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I’m sorry, Sunshine. Did I hurt you?” I searched her face for any discomfort.
She lifted her head. “I’m okay. Were you trying to practice your tackling?”
“Just a boy trying to get to the girl he loves.”
The panic in my heart eased a little with her body under me and her beating heart next to mine. I put my hand over her chest.
“Is there a reason you’re feeling me up?”
“No…just wanted to touch you…everywhere a man can touch the woman he loves.”
I worked my way down until I reached her waist.
I circled the tiny green star on her navel. “Pretty.”
“Thanks.”
“I love you,” I mumbled, kissing my way back north, covering every inch of her delicious body.
“Flynn…” It was a warning, a moan, a plea all at once.
My mouth finished her thought with a rough and lusty kiss. I kept the connection until her arms tightened around me.
We were both
struggling for breath, our lips chapped, our huge smiles mirroring each other. Her face flushed, cloaking the freckles on her nose for a brief moment. God, I loved it when that happened.
“Orange?” I asked, licking my own lips.
“Close…creamsicle.”
“I want to kiss every fucking flavor off your lips.”
“I think you already have.”
As the four freckles reappeared, I kissed them, too. “Can you do me a favor and smile?”
She arched her brow. “What?” Although her mouth already turned up.
“A little more…please?” I asked, my mouth pressed against hers. The dimple appeared. I kissed the hell out of it, too.
Tracing the tear shaped birthmark on her arm, I drank in her beautiful face. The face I saw in every dream. My fingers fisted through her long silky hair. Nothing hindered my path.
Pressing my forehead against hers, I asked, “No braids today?”
“I might French braid it later. Why the interest in my hair?”
“I’m talking about the little braids. The ones you do when you’re worried about something. The same way you chew your bottom lip. Yeah, like you’re doing right now.”
I released it with my teeth.
“Because I’m worried about you. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m happy to see you.” Happy? I was fucking overjoyed.
“I haven’t done those braids since we were kids. I can’t believe you remember.”
I wasn’t sure what I was remembering or forgetting, but I was here with her, and that’s what mattered.
“I love you, Texas.”
“You love Texas?”
“I love you. That’s what I call you.”
“Since when?”
“Since…fuck, it doesn’t matter.” I buried my face in her neck. “I love you, Scarlett Jones.” She caressed my cheek. I leaned into her hand.
“I love you, too, weirdo. I think that’s what I’m going to call you from now on.”
I laughed against her neck, inhaling her scent. “What do you say we lock ourselves in a dark room and get lost together?”
“After a kiss like that, I wouldn’t mind, but we can’t. We have the barbecue at your house. And we’re running late. Anna’s probably waiting for us.”
Anna?