Time Lost

by C. B. Lewis

  Foley peered up at the woman. “Is this a suspect?”

  Jacob nodded. “Priority one is now locating this woman. Temple, I need you to put together a statement for the news. We need to find her and as soon as possible.”

  “How much information?”

  He scratched at his beard. “Keep it simple. Looking for a witness. Basic description. We don’t want to scare her off.” He glanced at Anton. “You’re good for putting her in the search filters to see if she’s been picked up on CCTV?”

  “On it.” Anton headed for his desk. “You want the picture to be issued with the statement?”

  Jacob hesitated. On one hand, getting her face out there was often as useful as the facial recognition software. On the other, if she knew the police were looking for her, there was every chance she would bolt.

  “Yes,” he decided. “We need to find her. If she panics and tries to run, that’s when she’s likely to make mistakes.”

  The office sprang to life around him.

  It was amazing what a fresh lead could do, when a case was going cold.

  He looked up at the image of the woman.

  They had to find her, not least so he could know that he wasn’t going nuts and seeing science fiction where there should only be hard fact.

  Chapter 32

  DESPITE JANOS’S advice, Kit hadn’t contacted Jacob, as much as he wanted to.

  It felt awful, lying to him when he came to the TRI. No, not lying. Janos was specific about that. But omitting the truth wasn’t much better. He hated keeping secrets from people he cared about. It was why he’d avoided getting too attached to people ever since he started his job. It was bad enough not telling his mum.

  He retreated back to his flat and took refuge in the oversized kitchen. Sometimes building machines helped. Other times, there was nothing as distracting as trying to construct a meal from whatever he had left in his fridges and cupboards.

  By the time a vast pot of stew was bubbling on the hob, he was feeling calmer.

  There was every likelihood the stew would taste like crap with the mix of stuff he had thrown in. It was always potluck on whether his culinary experiments turned out well, but if all else failed, he had more takeouts at his fingertips than he really needed.

  He was scrubbing down the surfaces when someone rang the door buzzer.

  Kit frowned, picking up a cloth to dry his hands, and went to the security monitor.

  His heart did a little flip.

  Jacob was standing there.

  “Hey.”

  Jacob looked up at the camera. “Can I come up?”

  A sensible man would have said it wasn’t a good time or some other lie. Kit prided himself on being smart, but that didn’t mean he was sensible. He pressed the entry button and watched Jacob step through the door.

  He had two minutes, he realized, before the lift reached his floor. He’d timed it before.

  He raced back across the living room, looking out for anything incriminating, then skidded across the floor into the bathroom, where he pulled a comb through his hair. It was a tangled mess from the hours of running his fingers through it. His eyes were still bloodshot, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  Jacob was waiting when he opened the door.

  He looked as bad as Kit was feeling and when one side of his mouth turned up, it looked strained. “I’m sorry. I should have called ahead.”

  “It’s okay.” Kit reached out and caught his wrist, tugging him in. “You okay?”

  Jacob laughed wearily. “I look that bad?” Kit frowned in confusion, and he clarified, “You don’t normally ask. I must look like shit.”

  “Yeah.” Kit stepped closer and wrapped the other man in a hug. Jacob tensed in surprise, then lowered his head to bury his face against Kit’s neck. Kit splayed his hands on Jacob’s back, rubbing them in comforting circles. “You looked like you needed this.”

  “You have no idea,” Jacob murmured.

  They stood there for several minutes in silence, then Jacob touched Kit’s hip and drew back.

  “Thank you.”

  Kit leaned closer and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “You helped me. It’s only fair I help you when you need it.”

  Jacob searched his face. “I should go.”

  Kit knew he should let him, but if Jacob looked half as bad as he had the night before, there was no chance he was letting him walk out the door. “Not tonight,” he said, catching Jacob’s belt and swiping his other hand to lock the door behind him.

  It was as if whatever cord holding Jacob tense was severed.

  “No funny business,” Kit offered, an echo of the man’s words from the previous night.

  Jacob tried to smile, but it was frail. He lifted his hand and rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t know about you, but it’s been one hell of a day.” He looked Kit over, then frowned. “More coding after I left?”

  “Yeah.” Kit nodded toward the kitchen. “I have an experiment cooking. It’ll take about an hour.” He pulled Jacob a little closer, and even if there was no funny business, there were ways of being warm and comforted without it. He started working his way down Jacob’s buttons. “But now, you’re going to have a bath and relax.”

  Jacob’s hands were by his sides, and he watched Kit, unresisting. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  Kit glanced up from the shirt with a tentative smile. “Have you seen my bath? Of course it’s a good idea.” He spread the shirt open and touched Jacob’s chest. “I can even give you a back rub, like you did last night.”

  Their eyes met, and abruptly, Kit remembered what had followed.

  “Still blushing?” Jacob lifted his hand to run his thumb along Kit’s cheek. “Almost makes me think you’re an innocent little thing.”

  Kit snorted. “Sod that.” He leaned forward to kiss Jacob. “Bath. You look like you need to relax.”

  Jacob followed him through to the bathroom. He whistled in awe.

  Kit knew he’d seen it before, but he supposed Jacob hadn’t really paid all that much attention to the tub in his haste to get dressed. Kit’d had it custom-made a foot longer than the average tub, and twice as wide, because whoever wanted to limit its function to bathing was sadly unimaginative.

  “Is it big enough?”

  Kit leaned down to touch the taps, choosing the foam one as well as the hot water. “You know what they say about a man with a big bathtub.”

  “That his toes are as wrinkled as his balls?”

  Kit shot a grin over his shoulder. “Something like that.” He straightened up. “Have a soak. I’ll go and see how badly I’ve destroyed three days’ worth of food. Yell if you need anything.”

  He didn’t hang around to see whether Jacob took his advice, but neither did he close the bathroom door over.

  The stew, on the whole, didn’t look like it would kill anyone. A lick of the spoon even made him wonder if it might taste quite nice when it was done. He turned the heat down and left it simmering, then set to work on a salad of some kind, trying not to think about the naked and wet man currently in his bathroom.

  He lasted another ten minutes.

  Restraint could only go so far, and hell, it was his bathroom.

  He padded back toward the doorway.

  “Jacob?”

  “Mm?”

  “You need anything?”

  Jacob’s voice was muffled. “I’m okay.”

  He sounded so tired, and Kit couldn’t help leaning through the doorway to make sure he had at least got as far as the tub. Jacob was sitting upright in the steaming, foamy water, arms propped on his upraised knees, his head bowed forward and resting on them.

  Kit hesitated, then approached the tub, kneeling down beside it. He saw Jacob tilt his head enough to glance at him from the corner of one eye, but pretended not to. Instead, he leaned over the edge of the tub and scooped up a handful of water to pour over Jacob’s tense shoulders. Another followed, then another.

  “You want me
to rub your shoulders now?” It was meant to come out flirtatiously, but it was too quiet, too serious, and when Jacob nodded, Kit couldn’t help feeling that they were crossing another one of those invisible markers in their relationship.

  He considered his options.

  Leaning over the side of the tub was possible, but it was tricky.

  It was easier to strip off his own clothing and climb into the tub to kneel behind Jacob. The water swirled around them, the foam deep enough to preserve what modesty they had left. Kit reached for a bar of soap, working up a lather, before pressing his hands to Jacob’s shoulders.

  Jacob didn’t make a sound, not even when Kit was kneading the meat of his shoulders and working down his back. He barely even moved, his head just resting on his forearms, his ribs rising and falling under Kit’s hands.

  “Did something happen?” Kit finally asked, when his hands were beneath the water, working the last knots from Jacob’s back. “I mean, I saw the picture on the news. The woman. Did you find her?”

  Jacob shook his head without lifting it. “You know I can’t talk about it.”

  Kit rested his hands at Jacob’s waist and leaned closer, propping his chin on Jacob’s shoulder. “You’re thinking too much. Anything I can do to help?”

  Jacob was silent for so long, Kit wondered if he’d maybe drifted off, but then he tilted his head. “This case is driving me mad,” he confided. “I have so many facts, but none of them make any sense.”

  Kit slid his hands back up to press against Jacob’s back. “Don’t all cases do that?”

  He didn’t expect Jacob to pull away, to turn and face him. “If I ask you something, no matter how insane it sounds, would you answer me?”

  Kit’s mouth went dry. “It depends on the question.”

  Jacob searched his face. “Did Sanders build a time gate?”

  Christ, Kit wished he hadn’t got into the tub. It would have been much easier to leg it if he wasn’t waist-deep in hot water. And in metaphorical hot water too. Bugger, bugger, bugger.

  “I told you earlier,” he began, trying desperately to remember what he’d said back at the TRI. “I don’t think it would be possible going—”

  “No,” Jacob interrupted. “Not going forward. Did he make a gateway that can go back?”

  Kit’s world felt like it was contracting to a very tight circle, fixed around Jacob’s face. The rest of it was fading and black, and he groped for the edge of the bath. “Everyone knows time travel isn’t possible.” He managed to get the words out.

  “Kit, I know what everyone knows. That’s not what I asked: did Sanders make a time gateway?” Jacob didn’t sound angry or impatient. He just sounded exhausted, and that made it so much worse. “Please, just tell me if I’m barking up the wrong tree here, because if I am, if I’m thinking like this, if I’m cracking up….”

  Despite the heat of the water, Kit felt icy cold. “I can’t tell you,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

  Jacob closed his eyes, and Kit knew at once that he should have just lied, should have just said no, but he was such a crap liar, and if he had tried, if he had bluffed, Jacob would have seen right through him, and he would have felt even worse about lying to him again.

  He groped for the edge of the bath. “I should go and check the food.”

  Jacob reached out and caught his wrist. “Kit.”

  Kit couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  Kit curled his fingers into a fist. His wrist tensed in the loop of Jacob’s hand. “For what?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

  “For not lying to me.”

  Kit turned his head, looked at the other man. He tried to smile, but it faltered. “I hate this,” he confessed. “I hate all of this. I hate not being able to help you. I hate not knowing what’s going on. I hate—I hate that we met this way.”

  Jacob’s hand didn’t loosen. Instead, he pulled Kit back toward him gently. “But not that we met?”

  Kit’s eyes roved over him. “God, no. Never.”

  He didn’t know which of them moved forward to close the gap between them. They met in the middle, water and foam swirling about their waists, and their lips met in a hungry, almost-violent kiss.

  Chapter 33

  THE BLINDS were open.

  Kit’s apartment was high enough that the light from the city below didn’t bother them, but the crescent of the moon was bright in a cloudless sky. It cast a pale, silvery glow into the bedroom, and Jacob watched it slowly move across the sky.

  He was exhausted, but he was at the stage of being too tired to sleep.

  Kit had all but confirmed that time travel was possible. Jacob’s mind was reeling. No wonder Kit hadn’t been able to say anything. If it came out that the TRI was using time travel, that time travel even existed, the world would have to change.

  Kit had a confidence to keep, and Jacob had been chipping away at it for days.

  Beside him, Kit stirred. He was curled on his side, his head resting on Jacob’s outstretched arm, his back against Jacob’s side. He hadn’t been asleep for some time. He reached out and touched Jacob’s palm with his fingertip, tracing a circle on it.

  They hadn’t done anything.

  Despite almost flooding the bathroom when they embraced, it didn’t go much beyond that. Jacob’s brain was filled to overflowing, and even with a nimble hand touching him, he was too distracted, too tired, too… too everything to be roused.

  Kit hadn’t been offended. In fact, he was the one to back up first, teasing that age was clearly coming into play, and that they could try again later. He’d hopped out the bath, dripping and pink, to fetch them both towels from the heated rack by the wall.

  Jacob had just watched him from the tub, wondering how on earth he could quantify their relationship. A good 60 percent had to be lust and horniness, maybe 15 of developing affection and concern, 10 for the thrill of taboo liaisons, another 10 for mutual loneliness, and the last 5—and decreasing by the encounter—of residual guilt.

  He’d never been any good at one-night stands. He’d tried it, and it always came down to the other person to ensure it only stayed as a one-night thing. He liked being involved with people too much. He missed it.

  And now, he was crossing the wires of work and relationships again.

  Just over two years ago, he’d got home to the house he shared with Rory. It was late. He was late. It wasn’t until much later that he’d realized it was their anniversary, and he’d spent it in the bloody morgue.

  Rory never got angry. That was what made it so much worse. He just quietly made it clear that he had been struggling for the last eighteen months of what Jacob was still calling a relationship. He was tired of coming second to the job, and tired of Jacob dismissing his concerns. Jacob asked what he wanted. Rory, fighting back tears, told him to pack his things.

  Jacob hadn’t argued, not when everything Rory said was nothing but the painful truth.

  He wanted to say that he’d worked for Luke, to put him through medical school, to make sure he didn’t end up in debt for the rest of his life, but it was bullshit. The job had been his priority, right up until that moment, and he hadn’t realized. More than seven years of being with Rory, and he hadn’t even noticed how badly he was treating him.

  So he didn’t argue. He packed his things without protest. He stood blankly, trying to work out if he could even kiss Rory good-bye. In the end, he hadn’t. They hadn’t seen each other again.

  Work and love life. Love life and work.

  He’d made the wrong choice then. He’d promised himself that next time, next time, he wouldn’t let his work affect his relationship.

  What a colossal arse-up he’d made of that.

  He was brought back to the present by Kit touching each of his fingertips in turn, then tracing back down to his palm.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  Jacob dragged his eyes back from the moon, and instead watched the way the light played on
Kit’s hair. It was sticking in all directions. “You either.”

  “Mm.” Kit rubbed his cheek against Jacob’s arm. The first hints of stubble scratched against Jacob’s skin. “Trying to work out how much trouble we’re in.”

  Jacob curled his fingers to catch Kit’s. “I’ll go out on a limb and say a lot.”

  Kit pressed a kiss to his arm. “Yup. That’s what I thought.” He sighed and his ribs rose and fell. “You’ll need to come into the TRI tomorrow. Mariam’ll need to know that you know.”

  Jacob turned onto his side, until his chest was against Kit’s back, and he wrapped his other arm over Kit’s waist. “You think she’s likely to tell me anything now?” he said doubtfully.

  Kit was silent for a moment. “If she doesn’t, you could push anyway, couldn’t you? Formal searches and all that crap.” He drew back his hand and covered Jacob’s wrist at his waist. “You need to come in. There are people you’ll need to speak to. To explain things.”

  Jacob nodded, though he seriously doubted Ashraf would say anything. Even if she knew he suspected their true purpose, she seemed the type to let him think he was imagining it, rather than risk the privacy of her organization. How many years had they been hiding its true nature? Was it ever really a proper research foundation? Or had they already made their scientific leap all those years before, when the TRI was created?

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” he murmured. “I have a meeting in the morning. The DCIs want an update, since we didn’t have a lead until today.”

  He could feel the way Kit tensed in his embrace. “What are you going to tell them?”

  “What we know for certain.” He laid his lips against Kit’s freckled shoulder. “They don’t need to know about my speculation. Yet.”

  Yet.