by Jill Cooper
I’m standing beside her so I answer first. “Not yet. But she will.”
Miranda smiled softly. "You're very kind to care so much about someone you just met.”
“We’re all family now,” Donovan says, laying a gentle hand on me and Miranda. “Whatever happens, we’re all in this together.”
“Amen to that,” John says as he steps up close. His hands go to Miranda’s waist and he leans his chin on the top of her head. He’s a big man, but big a scruffy teddy bear way rather than the threatening way. He must suspect that Lara’s gone back in time to fix what’s wrong with Molly and when he gazes at me, it’s in his eyes.
“Where’s Lara?” Miranda asks suddenly. “I thought she’d be here. I have things I need to…apologize for.”
“She’s not here,” Mike says from the doorway. Miranda startles to see him standing there just as we all do. Where has he been for the last few hours? “I saw her by the nurse’s station before she disappeared.”
“She’ll be back,” John says.
Mike glances at John with disdain and a roll of his eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets and the tension in the room ramps up a notch. If Molly accepted John with no questions asked, it seems her twin brother hasn’t.
“Where does she go when she disappears like that?” Mike asks. “She does something that no one will tell me about.”
“Mike—.” Donovan starts but he Mike keeps going.
“No, it’s true. Everyone knows. She tells Molly things that she won’t tell me. I’m part of this family, but not really. I’m always shut out. Is it because I don’t like him?” Mike gestures his hand to John but won’t bring himself to look at him.
John’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, I feel for him as he gazes down at the floor. Miranda steps toward Mike an opens her arms to him. “No one means to keep you out of anything. I’m sorry, Mike. You’ve always been the strong twin. If I expect too much of you, I’m sorry.” She places a hand over her chest and I hear the tears in her voice.
Mike rushes into her arms and I feel as if I’m witnessing a family moment I shouldn’t be part of. Miranda and Mike step out into the hall and I’m left with the two men in Lara’s life that know our secret.
John raises his eyebrows. “We have to be more careful. Mike’s been alienated enough. We don’t need to make things worse on him.”
“Or you,” Donovan adds.
John smiles. “I was a maladjusted male once. I can deal with Mike, but what I can’t deal with is time travel putting anyone else at risk. The moment you see Lara, you tell her to find me.” He shakes Donovan’s hand and he heads from the room.
I stare after him. “I think he’s mad that she’s gone to change time again.”
“He’s mad that she has to change time,” Donovan’s tone is quiet, almost apologetic. “In a way, things are the way they are because of everything she’s done, but how can I regret any of that? If she hadn’t changed time….”
“None of us would be standing together right now. Would we?”
Donovan grins bittersweet. “Life’s a funny thing.”
The machines start beeping and we’re drawn to the bed where the teen lays. She tosses her head back and forth before her eyes fly open, staring with fear up to the ceiling. “Mom!” She screams. “Mom!”
“You better get the doctors.”
Donovan sprints off into the hall, calling for help. Meanwhile, the girl in the bed bolts straight up, gasping for air. Her chest heaves up and down with shallow breaths. She’ll head into a full-blown panic attack of she’s not careful.
“Easy, easy,” I say quietly and help her lay back down, but she stares at me, squirming away from me. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
“Where is she?” She grits her teeth and looks ready to snap them at me. “Where’s Lara?”
I scowl with a shake of her head as Donovan returns to my side. “They’re on their way. Did she say anything?”
“She’s looking for someone named Lara,” I say with a vacant stare. “Have you ever heard of anyone by that name?”
Donovan shakes his head, a blank look on his face. “Never.”
Chapter Eight: Lara Crane
I’m going to go on trial for murder? That’s crazy. Patricia was in jail, she wasn’t dead. There was no murder so that just points to the fact that I’m in some crazy time and place where life is royally messed up. “What?” I call out in shock. The judge gives me a steel eyed expression as she hammers her gavel onto the podium.
“Control your client, Mr. Montgomery or we’ll find her in contempt along with the other charges.”
“I’m sorry, your honor,” Jax says with his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing thick black framed glasses and I gaze at him in shock. He can’t defend me of anything. We’re family. He raised me for over ten years so what the hell is going on?
“Ms. Crane, how do you plea?”
Ms. Crane? If I’m not a James I’m a Montgomery. Not a Crane. No one has called me that in such a long time. I reach back to travel in time again and get out of here before things get worse, but a pulsating pain assaults my vision. I groan and grab my temples, unable to see or process anything other than the intense pain I feel.
Jax puts his hand on my shoulder. “She pleads not guilty, your honor. She has no passport, no money. She isn’t a flight risk. I request bail be set at ten thousand dollars.”
“For killing a senator?” The judge smirks at Jax. “Bail is set at one hundred thousand. Consider that a gift, Ms. Crane.”
“Ms. Crane has a lot of enemies. I request she put into protective custody while we arrange bail.”
The judge nods. “Agreed, Mr. Montgomery. We’ll make sure she has our best accommodations.”
I stare up at Jax as he snaps his briefcase shut. I don’t understand why he seems so unmoved by what the judge just said. “Jax?” I want him to hug me and tell me things will be all right, but his eyes are so cool. When he looks at me, it’s like he’s looking at a stranger.
“Try to keep the attitude and theatrics in check next time, okay? We aren’t going to win this by playing that game, but if we can show people the hardships you’ve faced. How hard it’s been without your mother—.”
Without my mother? I scowl at the near thought. “Where is she? Where’s my mother?”
“Funny, Lara.” Jax glances down with real pain in his eyes. “We both know where she is and whether it was Patricia James’s doing or not, it’s your life on the line now. Just don’t say anything until we talk tomorrow. All right?”
“Jax—.” I’m cut off as he walks away and two police officers grab my arms. They lead me away toward the exit. I’m caught up in a whirlwind of emotion and grief. This place, wherever it was, wasn’t my timeline. I didn’t kill Patricia James and I wouldn’t be punished for something I didn’t do, but when I tried to jump out—
Well, that pain had been very real. For whatever reason, I couldn’t jump backward, but maybe if I could find a way into another timeline, I could find my way home because this timeline wasn’t it. This one, everything is twisted. There’s no way I would murder anyone, no matter what my background or circumstances.
They take me to my cell and the guard unhooks my handcuffs without a word. “This is yours until someone makes your bail. If someone does.” The officer laughs and it leaves me hollow and flat.
He slams the cell door shut and locks it tight. I grip the bars and watch him take his position to guard my cell. So, this is what protective custody looks like when you kill a senator? When I turn, I catch my reflection in a small plastic mirror beside my bed and I’m caught off guard by my appearance.
My brown curls are cut short and my face has a bad scar running down my left cheek. It’s deep but peach in color. Whenever I had gotten that scar, it had been a long time ago and it had healed over. I touched it and when I did, a memory flashes in my mind.
I’m ten and on the playground and there are kids surrounding me on all sides. The
y call me names like latch-key kid. The kid with no mother. I remember this incident from my original past growing up with Dad. Then I walked away, angry, but this time, I pick up the swing’s chain to hit the offenders, but I’m the one who takes a piece of glass right to the face.
The nurse patches me up and when Dad comes running in to see me, I’m caught with how worried his face is. I immediately regret what I’ve done and…
The memory fades.
My nose drips four drops of blood onto the tile beneath my feet. I blink my eyes, pushing my sleeve under my nose. My nose hasn’t bled from a memory merge in a long time, maybe because this body isn’t equipped with time travel like I am. Because I’ve here I’ve never changed time.
I fish my fingers under my hair and search for the port Rex had installed into me like I was a machine and an experiment. For the first time I can remember, I’m disappointed that I can’t find it.
I haven’t been modified. This brain and this body has no ability to change time. I’m stuck here in a timeline where Mom’s still dead and if I’m not careful, I might be next.
****
Whether this is my timeline or not, I have to deal with the consequences of it, regardless. I’ll never find a way home if I don’t survive. The hand I’m dealt is severe, maybe more severe than ever before, but I have little choice than to face it head on.
I weigh what I know, even if it’s very little. Mom’s dead and had been for fifteen years which meant that Patricia had moved on from Rewind to a senator. When she was at Rewind, she hired Rex to assassinate Mom and Jax worked for her. In this timeline it seems he’s a lawyer so the only question was, if he worked for her here, why was he defending me?
“I’d like to call my lawyer,” I call out to the guard who barely looks at me. I cup my hands around my mouth and shout. “Hey!”
He glances with disinterest. “Nearly light’s out, Crane. You can see him tomorrow when he comes to bail you out.”
He snickers as if he thinks that’s the funniest thing he head all day. It sinks in my stomach like a lead weight.
No one believes me. No one is on my side, so what is a time traveler to do when she can’t travel in time other than wait and listen?
She asks questions, she studies what she has left. “Any idea why he took such a sorry case like mine? Pretty expensive suit he was wearing to associate with a low life like me.”
The guard shrugs and glances down the hall both ways, as if he’s going to cross the street. “Feels bad for you, I guess. Probono. Maybe you look good to his firm. A head case and a basket case. The girl that lost her mom and her dad.”
“Dad?” My stomach spins out of control even if I know this isn’t real. This is someone else’s dad, but it feels as real as anything else I’ve faced before.
“You blamed Patricia James for that, too, but she didn’t make your dad a drunk and crash that car. Killing that family and himself in the process.”
I’m on my feet before I realize it. I grab the bars and peer out at him. “My dad isn’t a drunk.” The words come out of me fast and strong. They ripple through the air and I stare at the effect as it hits the poster on the wall across from me.
I effected time. I might not have jumped through it, but I manipulated it. I know I did, but figuring out how is another story all together. That’s going to take time and it seems I’m going to have a lot of that on my hands.
“Wasn’t. Isn’t. Your story never changes and I guess for that reason, I feel bad for you. Your lawyer probably feels bad for you too.”
He gave me more information that he realizes. I head back to the bed as he calls light’s out and I lay on the over soft mattress, using my arm as a pillow. I stare at nothing and feel how alone I am, but there’s a glimmer of hope.
I can affect time and that means my ability isn’t dead. It’s still there and with time, maybe I can harness it. If I live long enough to figure out what’s going on. And manage to escape.
****
“Rise and shine, Crane.”
My eyes startle open and I’m disheartened to still be in a prison cell. I slide my legs off the cot and sit up, my elbows resting on my knees. The guard bangs his baton on the bars of my cage before sliding a tray with breakfast on it.
He stares me down. “You better eat it before it gets cold. Wouldn’t want you to suffer, would we?” He smiles at me as he continues back to his post and I grab the tray and slide it over the bed with me.
I sigh and inspect the oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar on the side. I’ve been served worse than this when I’ve been prisoner before. There’s even a side of red Jell-O, something Rex gave me every day to eat for the two years he kept me prisoner. Seeing it, raising my blood pressure. Red is everyone’s favorite flavor, or so I heard on some commercial. It has to be just a coincidence, but it doesn’t feel like one.
“Hey,” I start to say but something beneath the bowl catches my eye. It’s a blue piece of paper, only a corner of it sticking out.
I wiggle the paper free from beneath the bowl of oatmeal and unfold it. Holding my breath, I take in the sight of the Rewind Corporation letterhead. My heart sinks to see that penmanship I know so well:
You’ll never be free. Now, here I have you once more, in my cage.
Catch me if you can, but now the rules have changed. Everything is different. Just try to see if you can figure it out.
Rex. My blood boils as I take in a sniff of his cologne. He must’ve sprayed it on the paper just to twist the knife a bit more in my back. There was no sense in denying that he had me right where he wanted me. Locked up and playing his game by his rules.
But, where was he? He was close by enough to be influencing those around me. So why not show himself? What game was he playing?
****
I came to terms with the fact over the last year that the game might never really be over. Rex liked to toy with me. He got a sick pleasure out of making me suffer, getting revenge on me for ruining his life, killing him in multiple timelines. It was like living with a ticking bomb over your head, Cassidy and I had been vigilant, but we never saw this coming.
We thought we could cut it off at the pass, but it seemed we’re wrong.
The guards let me outside in the yard while everyone else eats lunch. I walk through the grass and toward the fence. I can see the traffic on the freeway and the heavy smell of the fumes is thick. When no one is watching, I pluck a blade of grass. I cup my other hand toward it, slowing time like a forcefield around it and watch it levitate. It spins like a ballerina in my hand until I’m satisfied my power’s still with me.
It is. It churns in my gut, stretches all the way down to my toes and up to my head. When I try to leap backward or forward, nothing happens except an earth shattering headache rocking to my knees.
My nose drips blood as I push back up on my feet. When I nearly fall, I grab the chain link fence, gripping it tight with my fingers until I’m stable again.
“Let go of the fence, Crane!” The guard yells and begins a mad dash toward me. “Hands in the air, now!” He draws his gun on me, but why is he so upset? It’s not like I can just leap out of here.
I hold my arms up. He grabs me and slams me down to the ground. I choke on a mouth full of dirt as his knee wedges tightly against the base of my skull. My heart pounds and my eyes focus on the fence that ebs and flows like it’s made of jelly. The individual links I had grabbed, fold like they are foam. As a breeze blows by, they sway.
“You hear me? You stay in the middle of the yard. No approaching the permitter!” The guard rolls me over and punches me in the nose. I groan and cover it as the pain cascades across my face.
“Here they say you’re tougher than that.” He yanks on my arms and pulls me up to my feet.
“Having an off day, I guess.” I glance back at the fence as he forces me up and pushes me back toward the prison. Whatever happened to the fence isn’t visible any longer. It looks like a normal metal fence, same as any other.
The door buzzes open to step back inside and another guard greets us. “So much for Ms. Crane’s tenor here. Her fiancé made bail. We’re to fit her with an ankle monitor and see her on her way.”
My fiancé. Donovan.
I sigh with welcome relief that some things remain the same. The guard takes me to a private room. “You go home, you go to work, but you break the law and you’re right back here. Lover boy won’t get his money back, either.”
That didn’t worry me. “I won’t do anything rash.” He hands me a plastic bag filled with my personal effects, which I’ll inspect later to see if they offer any clues, and he leads me outside. I expect to find Donovan outside, maybe angry about the death of his mother, but he still came for me.
That has to mean something.
Instead, leaning against the brick wall of the jailhouse in a leather jacket a red t-shirt, and a pair of loose fitted jeans is Rick.
Chapter Nine: Lara Crane
Rick Miller, my high school boyfriend before I changed time and saved my mother life, embraces me with welcome relief. “Thank God. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to hold you again.” His voice oozes with love and compassion. It’s a distant memory from our days together so long ago.
But I remember and part of me feels like I’ve slipped back into a cozy robe. A piece of my childhood reclaimed. My free hand loosely hugs him back. I’m taken off guard to see him again and my heart bitterly wishes he was Donovan, no matter how nostalgic I’m feeling for the past.
I don’t say anything as we pull apart and he inspects my face. Gingerly he touches my cheeks. “The guards haven’t been easy on you.” I’ve seen the rage of anger on his face before and it’s never led to good places for him—or us.
“I’m all right. I just really want to get out of here.”