15 Minutes- The Complete Saga Boxset

by Jill Cooper

  “If you prove not to be useful, yes. I’ll deal with Rex one way or another.”

  I don’t understand why Rex wants to keep me around, not like I am going to admit that to Patricia. But I also wonder why he went through so much trouble when all I did was cause him and the people he worked for grief. I wonder, too, why he doesn’t just strip my mind of my memories like he has done my mother. Rex is a bad guy, I get that, but something about what he’s doing doesn’t make sense.

  Two guards enter the room and Patricia speaks to them over her shoulder. “Secure her in the cage.” To me, she adds, “don’t try anything funny, Ms. Montgomery. We will be monitoring you.”

  She slaps her hand into mine, leaving a vial behind. When I tilt it side to side, blue liquid sloshes inside. This is it, a portion of poison that will smoke out a good man from the world. I’ve agreed to do the devil’s work.

  If Patricia James is Satan, I just became her minion.

  Chapter Eleven

  They take me down the hall toward my cage where I will be monitored and sent to travel back in time to stop Senator Marcus O’Reily from voting against Patricia James. As we make our way there, I can’t help but gaze down the hallways and the series of steel doors that are locked tight. Not only that but they are under heavy guard.

  What secrets could they be hiding in those doors?

  My cage is as I left it. For me, it feels like months since I’ve seen it, but in reality, it has only been a few weeks. I move my magazine out of the way to sit down on the bed and I uncover a pink sticky note in my handwriting.

  Take me.

  Underneath it is a ball point pen in a shiny, golden case. I take it and slide it into my pocket before anyone else can see it. Gazing around the room I check to make sure everyone is calm and I am satisfied no one saw my sleight of hand.

  The implications that I am able to travel in time to leave myself notes is huge. It means at some point I have been able to travel back without being monitored. I was successful.

  If I was successful once does that mean I can be successful again?

  I lay down on the bed and Delilah enters the cage. She puts the usual sensors on my head and my finger. She strokes back my hair and I think it’s just the usual setup process, but I can tell behind her green eyes she’s nervous. My eyes follow her as she busies himself with checking my cables and the usual monitors around me.

  But then Delilah leans down to my ear. Her mouth is right against my skin and she focuses on the wires her fingers fiddle with. “They can’t really monitor you,” she whispers. “They’re faking. They’re trying to use you to figure out HOW to monitor you. This is all preliminary data.”

  I try to keep my expression neutral, but I draw a shaking breath and my chest rises and falls with the release of air. Delilah leaves as footsteps approach and I wonder why she would risk telling me this. I guess I really do have a friend on the inside, but will it be enough to warrant an escape?

  “Are you ready?” Rex asks and peers through the glass at me.

  I’m vulnerable and exposed. I feel young and little under his watchful gaze, but I hold it and I nod. My hand holds the picture that Patricia James gave me and I study the photograph—the towering brick estate, the red classic car that sits in the driveway and the way the bumper shines like it was buffed by someone who loves it very much.

  “What’s the matter? Nervous?”

  “I never traveled to a different place before.” Why would I even answer? Why make myself even more vulnerable to the man who has systematically ruined my life?

  “I’m sure you can do it, Lara. And if you can’t, you just try again until you get it right.” Rex gives me a sickening smile. “Photographs have always helped you on simulations so now why don’t you give it a try and see where it takes you?”

  Sage advice from my uncle. My brow creases and I stare into the photograph. My breath catches in my throat as I study the individual green leaves on the trees. In the picture, they seem to be blowing as if a gentle breeze pushes past. A tendril of my hair tickles my hair, and as the wind blows right past me too, a leaf catches on my hair.

  It’s happening.

  My surroundings swirl and one by one everything is replaced by what was in the picture. I’m not laying down anymore, instead, I’m standing in the driveway. There are small children with their mother about to get into the car, but they are frozen in place with their hands on the door handle.

  In the doorway is Marcus O’Reily, his hand suspended in mid-air in a frozen wave goodbye. He must be a new senator, fresh blood, because he’s younger than I expect with soft, blond hair and tender, blue eyes. If he’s a day over thirty-two I’d be surprised.

  I move past them all and duck behind the side of the house farthest away from the car. From here I can see a gazebo and a playground structure that rivals anything I ever played on in my days growing up in Boston. I don’t even know where I am, but I see a recycle bin sitting not too far in a servant entrance.

  I go over to it and smooth the paper. I’m two days in the past and in Virginia right outside of DC. When I smooth my hand over the newspaper, everything snaps back to life around me. The wind blows and a bird tweets. Off in the distance, I hear squeaky little voices. “Goodbye, Daddy!”

  I smile at the sound of such sweetness, and here I am ready to stall their father on something he should be doing. All because I’m Patricia James’ prisoner. It’s not right and neither are my actions. But if I don’t do what they want, my family is dead.

  And so is Marcus O’Reily.

  The front door shuts as the car speeds off and it’s time for me to do my job. It’s time to get to work.

  I read the headline of the paper. SENATE SET FOR HISTORIC VOTE ON TIME TRAVEL. EVENTS SUGGEST TIME TRAVEL DISCOVERIES by THE REWIND AGENCY HAVE STABILIZED BRAIN FUNCTION.

  That was all because of me.

  I haven’t gone back in time to save my mom… But I can’t second guess what I’ve done. It’s done and I can’t undo it, not after meeting her and getting to hug her. Not after I met Mike and Molly. This is my new future, I just need to deal with it. Find a way to live with it.

  My jaw clenches and I fold the paper up and put it under my arm. The vial of poison in my pocket may as well be a hundred pounds for how it weighs on my soul. I’m supposed to kill Marcus, but what if I warn him instead? What if he agrees to work with me?

  Maybe I could use him. Just maybe I have found myself an ally.

  I head up the front steps and ring the doorbell. There isn’t an immediate answer, so I knock.

  Marcus is fastening his tie when he pops the door open. “Can I help you?”

  “Car trouble.” I smile. “Would it be all right if I use your phone? My cell battery died a half hour ago.”

  “Sure. Come on in.” He stands out of the way. A trusting fellow, he leads me down the front steps into the foyer of his home. It’s sweeping and grand, like a giant train station. But a train station has never held so many exquisite crystal chandeliers, and the gold and white finishes that line the entry make me afraid to even breathe.

  My eyes sweep around the room and he pays close attention as he motions to the phone. “You’ll have to forgive me for being short, I leave soon for DC.”

  Part of me thinks I can do it. I can find a way to poison him, but as my finger touches the vial, something else comes out of my mouth. “I know who you are, Senator O’Reily, and I need your help.” I touch his arm. “I’m Lara Crane.”

  His eyes shift, but they are hazy.

  “Lara Montgomery.” I correct.

  Marcus scowls. “Miranda’s daughter? Your name was in the newspaper a few months ago.”

  “What did it say?” I hold my breath.

  He shrugs. “You went missing. Everyone did; your mother, your kid sister. No one knows where you went, but the Rewind Agency said something about an extended vacation.”

  “They’re lying,” I spit out and anger creeps up my neck and across my cheeks. “T
hey’re…” I can’t say what I want to because it’s too much, too soon. “I’m in trouble. Big trouble.”

  “Well, we can call the police if there’s a problem.” He puts his hand on the phone and I put mine on his.

  “That’ll get my family killed. The Rewind Agency isn’t what it seems. You’re right about them Senator. You’re right to block them in the senate.” I put the paper down and Marcus’ eyes glide across the words.

  “I don’t know why you’re here.” His cheeks huff. “I don’t know why you’ve come here or what you expect me to do.”

  “I’m here because Patricia James wants me here. I’m here because in two days you cast the deciding vote against her in the Senate. You filibuster, or whatever you guys call it, and it stops the changes she wants to make to the time travel law. She sent me here to kill you.”

  Holding out my hand, I show him the vial.

  Marcus sucks and I watch the wheels in his brain spin and the realization of everything I have just said turns into confusion on his face. “You’re from the future. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Marcus scratches his head. “Time travelers are monitored. They can’t change the past. You’re just supposed to be a hologram.”

  “Supposed to. But that operation is just a cover for what James really wants. She wants to change the past, wipe people’s memories to make them better. And along the way, she’s going to power grab as she goes. If people get in the way, she’ll delete their opposition, remove who they really are.” I struggle not to think of my mother and her loss of self, but it’s hard.

  Damn hard.

  “And you have proof of this?” he asks me with deep suspicion. I can’t say I blame him.

  “I did. I had proof of murder, conspiracy. Everything. I had folders full of proof Patricia put a hit out on my mother and a reporter who helped me piece this all together, but it’s all gone. When the Rewind Agency kidnapped me, they took it all away.”

  His face is neutral and impossible for me to read. “I can’t take this all just at face value.”

  I need to get him to believe me, but I don’t know how.

  Marcus thinks and his eyes shift left and right. “Prove it.”

  “Prove it?” My face twists into a scowl.

  “Go back in time and show me you can do it.”

  I snort. “I can’t take passengers.”

  Marcus takes a piece of paper out and jots down some information. He hands it to me. 2014 Berkley City Club

  My eyebrows raise. “What’s this?”

  “That’s where I am ten years ago. Go there. Find me and make a lasting impression. If you can do that, then when you come back I’ll remember you. I’ll know you’re not making this all up.”

  That would work and it’s not like I don’t have the time. I have all the time in the world. I nod.

  “I’m at a house party my parents are throwing to cement my political career.” Marcus stares me down. “Don’t ask, it was a long time ago.”

  “All right. You don’t happen to have a photograph, do you?” I see hesitation on his face. “I’ve never been there before, I can’t just go. I’ll end up in the ocean or something.”

  Marcus heads to the library and when he returns, he’s carrying a college yearbook. He flips it open to the middle and spins it around so I can see it. The ocean and sailboats fill the page and the mirror page has a picture of the Berkley City Club. I can see the stairs and the glass doors.

  The moment of truth.

  If Rex is telling the truth, I’m about to be yanked painfully back to the future. If they are lying, like Delilah said, then I should be able to do this without any repercussions.

  My breath is steady and even, but my heart gallops inside my chest. I close my eyes and I smell the sea water, salt, and there’s a mist on my face.

  When I open my eyes, I am staring straight up at the glass doors of the Berkeley Club. It is just like the photograph, except it’s in color. I stand taller, as if I’m a different person, and head over to the yacht club where the party is being held.

  Seems that this future senator comes from money and likes to party. Now I’m about to show him everything a real party can be.

  I’ve read my history books and I know 2014 is a time of economic downturn, a lot of people lost their jobs. There are the stories about the Ebola outbreak, the terrorist group, ISIS, and the country is divided over a president. I’d thought the world would be all doom and gloom back then, but at the party, everyone is happy. There is a mixture of pretty dresses and snappy suits. Everyone is smiling, drinks in hand.

  No one seems to have a care in the world.

  For a moment I stand at the window and stare out at the sea. There are boats docked at the harbor and I watch them bob up and down. The gentle waves break onto land and they sparkle in the sunlight. It’s real. Perfect. Everything here seems so much more real than the virtual world I’ve been plugged into for so long.

  Virtual life is muted, while this is vibrant.

  If only I could stay here, run away and build a life for myself. Rex hasn’t yanked me back, so that must mean he doesn’t know what I’m up to. Why can’t I just stay here and pretend nothing bad ever happened to me?

  But in ten years it would all happen again. For the sake of my family and everyone else, I need to find a way to stop Patricia and Rex.

  I sigh, rub my arms and pivot on my heels. The room is decorated in soft colors and teens are clustered together at tables and on sofas, everyone acting so refined. It’s unlike any party I’ve ever been to before. The parties I’ve thrown in my apartment were over pizza and light music.

  This makes me feel totally out of my element, so I go around the side toward the patio door. Before I get there, I pass by a waiter and grab a fluted glass. As I sip the bubbling compound, I’m surprised it actually is booze. Who serves booze at a kids’ party?

  But the salt air of the wind calms me. And it centers me. I down the rest of my drink and set the glass down on the railing. I turn to my left and see for the first time I’m not alone. Ten years younger and boy was he handsome, it’s Marcus O’Reily. He’s leaning on the railing, gazing out at the ocean as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

  God, don’t I know that feeling.

  But he’s handsome. Black slacks and a green shirt complement his blond hair and blue eyes. His hair is wavy and thick, unlike Donovan’s, but still, I think of him. That memory drives me on to do what is necessary.

  “Hey,” I say with my hand on my hip. “Isn’t this your party?”

  His head turns toward me, but he keeps leaning on the railing. “Funny, but I’m pretty sure we’ve never met so how do you know it’s my party?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I guess your reputation precedes you.”

  “Who sent you out here? Was it my father?”

  What an odd question. I shrug. “No one, I promise. I came here on my own.”

  Marcus grins and he has cute little dimples. He stands and approaches me. “What is it to you if I want to stand out here and stare at the ocean? I saw you doing the same thing when you got out here.”

  I hold up my hands. “Well, hold up, I never said anything is wrong with it. We all have to be alone sometime, right? I really am just trying to say hello to the future senator, Marcus O’Reily.”

  He sizes me up with his eyes. Marcus can’t figure me out and he’s desperately trying to figure out my angle. “Guess you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name.”

  I lean up against him, so my chest is just touching his. “It’s Lara Crane,” I whisper and my lips graze his. That’s where I intended it to stop, but I guess Marcus has a need for something deeper, because his mouth opens and he kisses me.

  My fingers grip his shoulders and he drives on further, pulling me in. The connection between us is instant. I feel it bounding in my chest and I feel so guilty because he isn’t Donovan. My eyes flash with disbelief as he
lets me go.

  “I guess that’s not what you were expecting.” Marcus kisses my cheek.

  “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t nice.” I pull myself away. “See you in ten years.” I pivot and with a wiggle of my hips tear through the parlor towards the exit.

  “Wait, Lara.” Marcus chases after me and grabs my fingers. “I didn’t mean to scare you off. You were flirting so I thought it would be all right if… Why don’t you stay and have a drink?”

  I really want to. That is the problem. It would be too easy to get lost in the eyes of Marcus O’Reily because they are so much like Donovan’s. It would be too easy to replace him with this guy I can’t have. I don’t belong in this time and in my time he is way too old for me.

  And way too married.

  “It was a pleasure.” I blow him a kiss and head for the front door. My vision zooms in on it as I take a deep breath of air. Everything around me shimmies and pixilated. The door changes as I walk up some brick front steps.

  The door has a peek hole and behind me the leaves in the tree rustle.

  I knock on the front door.

  Marcus O’Reily, thirty-year-old Marcus O’Reily, pulls the door open. He is doing up his black tie and when he sees me that all stops. His eyes flash with disbelief and his mouth falls open.

  “Car trouble,” I say pointedly. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  His answer has nothing to do with my question. “My God, it’s Lara Crane.”

  I smile and saunter up the steps. “At least you know who I am this time.”

  Marcus shuts the door and I feel bad for everything I am about to unleash on him. It’s time for him to take a trip down the rabbit’s hole with me.

  ****

  We sit in his parlor and there is a coffee table between us. Marcus holds his head in his hands trying to digest everything. He now knows everything that I’ve experienced over the last two years of my captivity. The look on his face is absolute shock. I leave out everything I did to save my mother because I don’t think he can handle much more information.

  But how my father was framed by Patricia and Rex, that he knows.