You didn't kill him. Those words had been said to him so many times he wanted to scream.
He did kill him. He did...
He pushed away from the refrigerator and headed to the bed and sat down heavily. He phoned Leon, but the call went to voicemail.
"Hey, I can't sleep. Was wondering if you would meet me for a drink. Call me."
His next call was to Sonya.
"Hello?" Sonya croaked into the receiver. She sounded tired.
"It's me," he said.
"Bellamy? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he lied. "Wanted to call you about the album."
"The album? The solo album?"
"Yes, I've been thinking about what I want on it. I have a few songs written you haven't heard yet."
"That's good," Sonya said and yawned. "But can we discuss this at a decent hour? It's..." He heard rustling then she spoke again, "Only a little after four in the morning. I'm not coherent until at least six and after I have my coffee."
"Sure, sure, didn't know it was so early in the morning." He placed the phone down and pressed his palms into his eyes, hoping to stop the pain thundering in his skull. He tried to ignore the ache that had settled in his heart, too. He didn't want to roll out of bed and do this anymore. He was through. He didn't want to pretend on stage that he was happy and carefree. No one cared if he was or not. No one ever listened.
Maybe if he crawled into bed and tried to sleep, he'd have a new perspective in the morning. However, first, he'd have to undress.
After a few attempts, he managed to unlace his boots and kick them off. He slipped off his shirt next. His fingers went for his belt. Once in his hand, he stared at the thick leather, caressed it, and then snapped it to test its strength. His gaze flickered to the door where the silver hardware on top protruded like a ledge. His fingers caressed the leather once more as he contemplated a way to end the pain. He didn't want to die, he thought as his hand went to his throat. He really didn't. It was just that he didn't want to live like this. "Only a few minutes and it will be over," he whispered to the shadows taunting him. The pain would stop. He stood and teetered, then fell back onto the bed. He would do it. Tonight, he'd do it, but first, he had to make one more call. One more goodbye. He reached for the phone again and dialed the number.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Never Tear Us Apart
September 2007
"Is she dead?" Lisa's voice sounded worried.
"She's not dead," Kelsey answered next.
Evie groggily sat up with Kelsey's help. She held her throbbing head and blinked as she tried to make sense of why she was sitting on the ground, apparently in her backyard. "What happened?" Her mind felt like a jumbled mess as if her brain had been jolted back and forth against her skull zillions of times. Had she fallen? Both her friends were staring at her expectedly as if she should tell them something. Then it hit her. She remembered.
Time travel, meeting Bellamy, loving him, having to leave him… Had anything she'd said or done changed the past? "Did it work?" she finally managed to make her tongue work and ask the question.
"You didn't go anywhere," Lisa said. "You've been unconscious on the ground. We've been trying to wake you for the last few minutes."
"She went," Kelsey contradicted. "Remember it was her essence that traveled. Not her body. She connected with herself in 1997."
"It's only been a few minutes?" Evie asked in confusion. "That can't be right." She shook her head and wished she hadn't. Nausea made her stomach roll. Why did her head hurt so much? She didn't experience this on her trip to the past. "No, I was there in the past. I took the job. I was with Bellamy. We…we…" She covered her face. "He's not gone. I can feel it. Don't you think I can feel it?"
"Let's get you inside," Kelsey said as she took hold of her arm. "My mother said when she time traveled, it took a while for the events she changed to catch up with her brain." She pursed her lips and glanced at Lisa for assistance.
She digested what Kelsey said as she allowed her friends to help her to her feet. Once standing, she made eye contact with the life-size cardboard cutout of Bellamy. As far as she was concerned, she'd been with him just this morning. She spent weeks with him, slept with him, kissed him, said goodbye to him. She gave him– She felt for the necklace. "It's gone." She couldn't quite keep the excitement out of her voice. "It's gone," she repeated. "I gave it to Bellamy at the airport."
"The necklace?" Lisa asked. She looked around on the ground. "Here it is." Lisa bent down and picked up something, but when she handed it to her, Evie stared at the carved-bonelike hippocampus, not the archangel medal. Then she remembered. She hadn't been wearing the medal when she stepped into the circle. She squeezed the hippocampus inside her palm.
The night breeze was cool as it blew her strands that kissed the collar of her shirt. Her fingers touched her hair, loose and not bound. "I always wear my hair in a bun," she murmured. She looked at Kelsey and then Lisa. "I wear it in a bun because it's always so frizzy." Her voice had risen with excitement.
Kelsey and Lisa exchanged worried glances.
"Anton showed me what to use to tame my hair." She grabbed Kelsey arm. "Something's changed. I changed. I can't explain how the whole time travel thing works, but this is different."
"Should I call for an ambulance?" Lisa offered. "Obviously, Kelsey's mumbo jumbo magic trick screwed with her brain."
"There's nothing wrong with me," she insisted. "But I don't understand, why don't you know if I succeeded or not? Shouldn't it be obvious?"
Kelsey shook her head. "Maybe not. We were surrounded by magic, and we'll experience a lapse too. May take time for the catch-up to hit us."
"But we just did the spell," Lisa insisted. "How could she have time traveled and done anything?"
Kelsey looked at her. "She did travel back in time. Of course, when she returned, she would arrive only seconds later from where it all began. We were the anchors for her return."
"Hello?" a male voice called to them from the gate. "Emerson, is that you?" he called again.
For a moment Evie froze. Only one person ever called her by her given name. She grabbed Kelsey's arm again and her friend stared at her in confusion. "That's him." Excitement bubbled inside of her and she let out a squeal of delight. "It's really him."
Lisa shifted her gaze toward the gate and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. She slapped at Kelsey's arm. "It's him." She slapped her again. "It's him!"
"Girl, I tell you, if you don't stop slapping me..." Kelsey turned to follow her gaze and anything she'd been about to say was lost in translation.
Evie finally turned around also, already knowing who would be standing there. She would recognize his deep and maddeningly sexy voice anywhere. "Yes, I'm back here!"
"Sorry," Bellamy said as he unlatched the gate. "I knocked on the front door, but no one answered," he said as he reached them. "I thought I heard someone back here."
She stared at him, blinked and stared some more. Bellamy stood before them, a little older, somewhat more rugged, and more importantly, alive, and of course, he still had fabulous hair.
He did a little staring too, his gaze sliding casually down her body before rising to meet her eyes again. His masculine mouth tugged into a seductive smile and her hormones did an excited little dance. She loved his smile, loved how his eyes were taking her in, loved that he was standing before her ten years older, and as handsome as ever.
"I'll be damned," Kelsey murmured. "It did work."
"He's alive," Lisa said again, sounding like she was the mad scientist praising her creation.
"We established that already," Kelsey hissed under her breath, then glanced to Bellamy and then to Evie, arching an eyebrow. "My, my," Kelsey murmured. "I see how it is."
Evie wanted to say something to her friends, but she couldn't seem able to glance away from Bellamy, afraid that if she did, he would disappear.
"Come on," Kelsey said to Lisa. "I believe Mr. Lovel is here to se
e Evie." When Lisa didn't move, Kelsey took her arm and led her toward the gate.
"Is the blonde going to be okay?" Bellamy asked, gesturing with his thumb toward Lisa, who was still staring at him with her mouth open.
"Lisa? Yeah, she's fine. Had a little too much to drink," she added in the form of an explanation she hoped wouldn't sound too farfetched.
He stepped closer and the light from the back porch illuminated his features. The breadth of his shoulders was wider, she realized. More mature in the face also, with fine lines at his eyes, but nothing could take away from those baby blues that were eyeing her curiously.
"Did you indulge tonight too?" he asked and his brows drew together in concern. Probably because he'd never known her to indulge.
"What? No. Sober." She cleared her throat. "It's so good to see you," she told him in all honesty, more than he would ever know. "What brings you here?" She cringed. That sounded totally lame. "I'm mean… Oh God, I'm so glad to see you – and I said that already."
His lips curved in that all too familiar smile. "I'm glad to see you too."
She wanted to kiss him, fall into his arms. For her, it had only been a little while since she'd kissed him goodbye. For him, it had been a lifetime ago. She wished her heart would stop doing a little dance, racing and slowing and racing again. She touched her chest and realized she still gripped the hippocampus necklace. She quickly stuffed it in her pocket. He'd probably think it a little weird that she still carried the necklace around.
He took another step toward her and leaned in to kiss her cheek, but before she could feel a pang of disappointment that he hadn't lip-locked with her, memories of the past, their past, flooded into her brain like a tidal wave. She felt helpless as it swirled her memories around and around until they settled and she could make sense of them, at least some of them. Her head hurt even worse than it had already. She felt his hands on her waist as they snaked out to steady her. She met his gaze in surprise. "We're friends. We've remained friends all these years."
"I sure hope so." He studied her closely and his prolonged stare sent a rush of desire coiling through her. "We talk to each other at least once a month, if not more," he added. She kept gaping at him, not saying anything. "Remember," he said, "you asked if the band would get together for a reunion and play at the gala?"
She blinked, trying to keep up with his words. "Are they?" At the moment she couldn't be positive if they were or not.
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again as she stepped out of his embrace.
"I'm fine, really." She nervously tucked strands of hair behind her ear.
He nodded, but he didn't appear totally convinced. "I told you last month the guys were on board. We had our first rehearsal tonight. You remember how those go." He winked at her and her heart thudded in her ears.
She did remember. She remembered a lot of things. "Time is catching up," she murmured in wonder. Concern etched Bellamy's brow. She had to snap out of this and act normal. "How are the boys?" she asked. "What have they been up to lately?" Surely this wasn't a strange question. She and Bellamy obviously spoke to each other on the phone. He'd said as much, but chances were they didn't talk about the band members on a regular basis.
The questions seemed to put him at ease. "Leon just finished the compositions for Max Steed. I think I mentioned he was working on it the last time we spoke."
Max Steed, twenty-something rock star had made a name for himself in the last few years – or so her sketchy memory told her. "Uh-huh. Leon does well for himself in the industry, doesn't he?"
"Sure does. Leon has been hired to compose for some of the greats. Lucky guy."
She remembered something else about Leon. He was divorced but made sure to see his two children every other weekend. "How are his boys?"
"Getting big," he said and went on to tell her about Leon's kids. "They were at Leon's this last weekend when I was there," he told her.
She could listen to his voice all night, the rich tones, and the deep laughter. It didn't matter what he said. He could tell her about the weather. He could recite the alphabet for all she cared as long as he kept talking and kept reassuring her that he truly stood before her. "How's Maury?"
"Maury is still teaching high school."
"Music," she said more to herself, but he answered her all the same.
"Yep, still a music teacher. His wife just had kid number four two weeks ago, a girl. Maury says that's all for them now. Two boys and two girls. Don't know how he keeps sane with all those kids underfoot and all under the age of seven."
"Maury and his wife must be busy."
"I'd say. When I called him, I could barely hear him over the ruckus. Wild and crazy at his house most of the time is what he told me, but he seems happy."
"And T.C.?"
"He's gone back to his red hair and has a solo album ready for release next month. Clark, as you know has been divorced twice but he just told me tonight he's planning to try his luck again. The wedding is set for Valentine's Day. No children so far. Probably a good thing," he added. "He still works in the music industry, hooked up with another band for a while to help them get their start. His restaurant in Santa Barbara with a rock and roll theme is doing well. Hey, didn't you tell me you stop by with Bryce to see him there on opening day?"
"We did," she said with a nod.
"It's been open for two years already. Hard to believe. Time sure flies."
She searched Bellamy's face. She wanted to know more about his life. She wanted to touch him so badly. To put her hands on his face and caress the rugged curve of his jaw. He was thirty-eight and he'd become better looking with age. He had a little more weight on him too, but in a good way, a healthier way.
"You know…" He cleared his throat and she realized he was nervous. Nervous around her? He began to say something but his train of thought seemed derailed as he stared at something behind her.
She turned and followed his gaze and cursed softly. In the bloody circle, the life-size cardboard cutout of Bellamy appeared to be staring at the flesh and blood older and more mature version as if it were a challenge. "Uh… that's for the gala?" she phrased it like a question.
"Okay," he said slowly. "That's sure a young one of me." He walked over to it for a closer look. "You were the one who told me to wear that outfit. Do you remember the shoot?" he asked and glanced at her.
"Like yesterday," she said and joined him. Her gaze took in the younger version she'd fallen in love with. "Reminds me of our affair," she gave him nudge.
"Affair is it?" he chuckled. "I thought it a romance. Do you ever think of us back then? How we were together?" he asked – and did she see a spark of hope there?
"With fond memories," she told him.
His eyes seemed to take in her every feature, one by one, like a sensual slide of admiration. "Good times," he murmured. Did his voice sound huskier? "We've been friends for how long now?" he asked.
"For a long time." She knew this, could feel it inside of her as more images and glimpses of the past – their relationship in particular and what they meant to each other.
"Ten years, Emerson," he said. "Longer than most marriages on the rock and roll scene. Longer than any relationship I've ever had." He put his hand in the pocket of his slacks and pulled out something that caught the light. She recognized it. The medal of the archangel Michael, the one she'd given to him at the airport.
"You kept it." She met his eyes.
"Of course I did. A reminder, you know. Slayer of demons."
Before all this happened, she remembered she didn't know where she had placed the medal. Before time traveling became real, she reminded herself. Everything is connected.
"We've come full circle." Bellamy's words drew her attention.
"What?" He voiced what she'd been thinking.
"You and I, we've come full circle," he repeated, his voice rough with emotion.
"We have," she agreed.
"I know it's been six years since we l
ast saw each other in person."
She was trying to keep up, really she was, but she didn't remember seeing him six years ago. Not yet anyway.
He must have seen something in her expression and glanced away as if uneasy about their last time together. "I know you probably want to forget that moment in your life. I wouldn't blame you."
She didn't want to forget anything. "Bellamy–"
"Please let me finish," he interrupted. "If you don't mind, I have this whole speech worked out in my head."
"Sure," she said with a nod. "Go on."
"I missed you," he said on a long sigh. "You were always there for me, and I hope when I wasn't a fucked-up mess, I was there for you too."
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