by Jill Cooper
****
The trickle of the rain falling from the gutters. Outside the sun has set and I am snuggled up tight as a bug in Molly’s bed. She lays with her head on my chest and follows the words I read in the open book.
“And down the rabbit hole they go. Twisting and turning on their way to tea.” I slide the cover closed and I kiss the top of her head, smoothing her hair back. The smell of strawberry shampoo is even the same. Everything is as it should be and that feeling of warmth, that feeling she completes me, stills my soul. I don’t know what it is about our connection, I just know I need Molly maybe more than she needs me. Maybe it’s because she’s young and I’m desperate to protect her innocence, even if I’ve already failed.
She lays against me for a long time as I listen to the tick of the clock. I glance at the hands as they tick backwards instead of forwards and I’m reminded again of where I am and why I am here. “I should let you get some sleep.” I say the words, but my arms tighten around her little frame.
Molly plays with the necklace I’m wearing. “I’m glad you were okay, Lara. After that guy attacked you in the courthouse.” Her soft, scared brown eyes search me. When she reads my surprise she laughs. “I’m seven not dead. I know what’s going on. They want to stop us from telling the truth.”
I shake my head. “I won’t let that happen. You’ll always be safe here.”
She smiles and my spine shivers. It’s almost as if Rex is smiling at me through her. I realize he’s using the imagery of my sister to get me to do his dirty work. But it doesn’t change my response because some part of me has to believe this is real. If I didn’t, I probably would fall to pieces and never get back up.
“You’re strong, Lara. I know you’ll find a way.” Molly grins. “Can you make Mike and I mac and cheese tomorrow? You know it’s my favorite.”
“I’ll make you whatever you want.” I slide the book onto her nightstand. “But tomorrow.” I hold her close and kiss her forehead. “Good night, Molly. Sleep tight.” I slide out of the bed and Molly settles down onto her pillow, squeezing her stuffed dog under her arm. The comforter is tucked firm around her body and I smooth her hair back.
One more look at her and I leave the soft, girly room for the hall and pull the door shut tight. In the hall the light is still on and I hear running water in the bathroom. Inside the brightly lit room, Mike is brushing his teeth. I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed already?”
He smiles with the blue toothbrush still in his mouth, foam generating at the corners of his lips. Leaning over, he spits into the sink before answering. “I had homework. Dad said it was okay.”
I mess with his hair. “Just get to bed soon. School tomorrow, squirt.”
Heading to my room, his voice stops me. “You don’t have to watch us all the time. We’re okay.”
It’s hard to know what to feel. Hard to know what agenda is between those words. So I just keep on going toward my room. “Good night, Mike.”
Inside it’s the same exact room that I first saw a year ago, when I first merged into this timeline, from the string of pearls hanging on my mirror to the sparkly shoes in the closet. Even the picture album under my bed has a page bent in just the right spot. But all those things are that way because I remember them. In so many ways my mind is filling the gaps in the story provided to me by Rex.
I slip into a pair of spandex running pants and a dark purple hoody. Zipping it up, I tuck my hair inside the hood and take a final glance around the room. As I trot down the stairs I hear the gentle timbre of laughter. An unusual sound for sure, but maybe it means Mom and Jax are making up.
Most of the lights are dim and the glow of the television beckons me closer. I find them on the couch sitting close, Mom’s legs swung over onto Jax’s lap and his hands resting on her calves in a relaxed manner. I smile at them and sit on the ottoman in front of them. “Hey, guys.” I try to clear the nerves out of my voice.
“Hey, what’s up?” Jax asks and stretches his arm and tucks his hand behind his head.
“What is it, honey?”
I take a deep breath and lace my fingers together. “I was wondering if it’d be okay if I go out with Don for a quick coffee. It’s been a long time since we’ve had some fun. I promise I’ll come right back.”
They stare at me with open mouths.
“Are you”—Jax runs his hand through his hair—“asking permission to do something?”
Laughter trickles out that I can’t stop. “I’m trying this new thing called full disclosure. So, yeah, I’m asking permission.”
Mom’s eyes twinkle. “Well, of course you can.” She pats my hand.
“Sure,” Jax agrees with her and I’m floored. “You’ve been cooped up long enough. Don too. He’s a good kid, doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this mess his mother made.”
I laugh without meaning to and I’m flabbergasted, but when I think about it, it makes sense. Rex wouldn’t want my parents to be an obstacle to my assignment. He wants me to be successful so that meant that, even though no parent in their right mind would let their daughter go out at night after nearly being killed by their crazed assassin uncle in an elevator, they would have no problem with it. Too bad I couldn’t get this permission in writing.
“Thanks. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
Mom pats my hand with a smile. “Just be careful, okay? If we’re not up when you get home, breakfast will be at 9AM.”
I nod my thanks and head for the front door. When the doorbell rings I grip the knob. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. I glance back at my folks. Mom has her head rested on Jax’s shoulder and he’s leaning in for a kiss. They sure are making great strides at rekindling their affection now that I’m going along with Rex’s plan, but I guess that’s part of the deal.
He gets what he wants; I get what I want.
But at what price?
Chapter Five
Donovan takes my hand and we walk side by side to the café that serves the best mocha espresso I’ve ever had. It probably has something to do with the chocolate covered cookie that comes on the saucer with it. I munch it and then take a sip of the mocha. It warms my spirit and my toes from our walk in the rain.
He reaches across the table and I study his expression. His eyes are troubled and his shoulder rolled forward more than usual for someone who is rich in confidence. I guess we’ve all taken a hit in the last year—Donovan is no different. “I don’t even know what to say, Lara. My mom just keeps trying to kill you.”
It’s almost funny in how absolutely insane it is. I stroke his fingers. “What can I do? To help you?”
Donovan shakes his head. “I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do to help. I think we just need to work through it.”
“And where is she? Your mom?” I pick up my cup and blow on the coffee before taking a slow sip. It’s rich and goes down smoothly.
“Under house arrest so she’s not going anywhere for a while. Dad and I have moved again. He’s afraid she’ll try something. I guess he didn’t realize how far she had sunk. I’ll text you the new address in case you can’t reach me on the phone.” Donovan pulls out his phone and I grab his hand.
“It’ll be okay, Don. Really. All this will work out in the end.”
Donovan laughs. “How is it you can sound so sure? We don’t know anything for sure. Nothing is certain. Rex is dead, yeah, but she has other people working for her. Those mobsters. Anyone could put a hit on you. Any of us at any time.”
“I’m just optimistic I guess.” I smile. “Everything always works out in the end.”
“I wish I could be as sure as you are.” His eyes gaze past me toward the back of the café, but it’s safe to say he doesn’t see anything. Not right now. He’s swallowed up in grief. I know what I’m about to put him through will make it worse, but eventually Donovan will work through it. We need to be safe and there’s only one way for that to happen.
Patricia
James has to die.
We sit and talk. I get to Donovan to smile even a time or two and then he walks me home. We stand under the awning of the brownstone I share with my parents. I’m in his arms and it’s the most comfortable place to be. We share soft, tender kisses and I rest my head against his cheek. “I live for these quiet moments.”
“Me too.” Donovan sighs, but it’s happy instead of sad. “I can’t wait for one day when I can take you away from all this. We can celebrate on the beaches of Morocco.”
“Push our toes through the toasty sand? That sounds great, but anywhere can become Morocco when I’m with you.”
Donovan raises his eyebrows. “You can transport too? Man, you really are a cheap date.”
I bit my lip. “That’s not what I meant.” I grip the lapel of his shirt and pull him in for another kiss. And it’s thunderous in its passion. After a few minutes I break it off, just in case my parents are watching.
“See you soon, rock star.” Donovan slips away from me, but our fingers remain intertwined for as long as I can extend my arm. I watch him walk away until he’s nothing more than a shadow and then he disappears from my sight.
I sigh, my back up against the door, and then sneak inside the house. I don’t see anyone downstairs so I stick my head in Mom’s bedroom. She’s up reading while Jax is sound asleep. “Night, Mom,” I whisper.
She mouths an I-Love-You and then I close her door gently and head into my bedroom. I glance down at my watch that has been in timer mode. I stop it at exactly forty-two minutes since Donovan first showed up at my door.
I head over to my window and peel it open. I stick my head out in the rain, take a deep breath. All it takes is for me to think about Donovan picking me up at the door for the world to shimmy and my headache returns.
I glance down at my watch. It begins to tick up from zero.
No time like the present to play in the past.
****
I jump down from my window and land in a squat beside the bushes. Inside I find the duffle bag I left myself and sling it over my shoulder and creep out of the alley. By the front door I catch a glimpse of myself and Donovan, hand in hand strolling away. I make note of how he leans his head against hers and can’t help but notice the love.
I want to save that. I need to save that.
Glancing at my watch, I see I’ve wasted nearly two minutes. Time to get sprinting. Lucky for me I know exactly where to catch the subway and know which stop will get me closest to the James’ estate. I hope I won’t run into much interference there and will find Patricia home alone, nursing a bottle of brandy while she contemplates why she’s such a messed up bitch.
Unfortunately, when I arrive and hide in the bushes, I see there are guards bordering the gates and appear to be on patrol. Crap.
I take the binoculars from my bag and use it to spy on the windows. I can see a silhouette against the sheer curtains, but I can’t be sure who it is. And I don’t want to take the shot without knowing the truth.
I glance down at my watch. There’s twenty-two minutes left to get home before Lara does. If this is going to work, I need to hurry. Packing up, I sling my bag over my shoulder and hurry across the lush grass and hop the fence. The coast seems clear, but as I run onto the brick pavement toward the front door, a guard grabs me by the arm.
“Hold it right there.”
My heart stills and I raise my hands above my head. “Would you believe I am selling girl scout cookies?”
His mouth flickers at my humor, but not enough to let me go. He pushes me through the double French doors into the foyer of the James’ home. It’s immaculate and just like a museum. The chandeliers overhead throw sparkles and shine in all directions and the rich mahogany fixtures have been shined to perfection.
The guard uses the butt of his gun to push me left, into the study, and I see Patricia James sitting by the fireplace and realize she’s the figure I saw earlier through the curtains. Her blonde hair is in a delicate bob and it is brushed back with elegance as she sits there in her pink satin pajamas. She studies me and crosses her legs and it’s then that her police anklet is shown.
I smirk. “Looks heavy.”
“I would think you’d be smart enough not to come here, considering how many times I’ve tried to kill you now.” Patricia stands up and places her glass on the fireplace mantel. It is adorned with family photos, mostly of a young Donovan. But she threw that all away for ambition and power.
I take a step back and Patricia glares at me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Making sure I don’t get in the way of the shot.”
Patricia’s face goes slack and I enjoy watching her freaked out expression. I gaze out the window and think back to being behind the gate. The pain hits my head all at once this time, and doesn’t wait for the time travel to be complete. I gasp in pain and grab my head with a groan.
I can barely steady my breath as I grimace and slowly open my eyes. I’m back at the gate and beside me is, well, me.
Lara blinks her eyes as I do. I reach inside my bag and pull out my gun and then its silencer. “You better get started,” I say to the other Lara who will cease to exist in a minute. At least I hope. “Get her in front of the window.”
Lara nods and then she’s off, running toward the gate. I assemble my gun and line up the shot. I don’t expect the searing pain to be back so soon, but my vision splits and I can barely blink my eyes. I think I’m going to go unconscious, but I force myself to stay alert and aim the gun. I take wind speed and direction into account just like dear Uncle Rex has been teaching me in the simulations. This is the moment he’s been waiting for and the moment I’ve been dreading.
When Patricia James’ silhouette stands up, I take the shot. It crackles like fire around me and I watch with baited breath as it cracks the glass and her body slams toward the floor.
I have to be quick. I know that, until I am safe at home, I could still get caught and that’s something I can’t stomach. So I take my gun apart, stow it in the duffle bag. I’m off and running for the subway, slamming my duffle bag against my back and hope—pray that the Lara who’s inside the mansion will disappear.
I can’t know for sure. I swipe my Charlie card to get on the subway. The train is brighter than ever for the middle of the night and I slump into a seat and hold my pounding head. I grimace and contort in my seat. It’s never been this bad, but my vision is more than doubling. It’s tripling. I can feel someone invading my head space and it feels like my brain is being torn in half.
A slow trickle of blood comes from my nose as visions assault me all at once.
Standing in the James’ study, a bullet rips through Patricia’s skull. I scream as blood is splattered and back up. A guard grabs me from behind, and then the vision goes funny in shades of red and orange. Nothing is static or normal. It comes in waves as I fall down to my knees and crawl from the mansion.
Lara is fading. She grabs her head as we become one and her entire life force threatens to implode.
I don’t know how I get home. But suddenly I’m there, limping down my street. At the doorway I can see Lara and Donovan kissing goodnight. I duck behind the townhouse and my body slams into the brick. I can barely control what I am feeling or doing now that there are three of us in this timeline. I feel like I am everywhere but nowhere, all at once.
I throw my duffle bag into my window and use the tree to scale up. I can’t even take off my shoes before I lay on my bed. Huffing for air, I think I’m going to die. But I don’t call out. I won’t move as Lara enters the room. She keeps the light off as she sees me and sits by my bed.
“Is it done?” she whispers and we take hands.
I nod, I can’t find the strength to speak. Blood trickles down her face as it flows down my nose. I thought I’d be the one who continued on in this timeline, but it’s not me, it’s her. I’m just the anomaly. She’s going to continue and I’m going to die, disappear on this bed.
“Not disa
ppear,” Lara says like she can read my mind. “You’re melding with me.” Then I realize maybe she is already in my mind as we join together. “We’ll be the same. Like always. I’m sorry it has to hurt so much though.”
My breath gets erratic and I can feel myself floating away. Then it is the other Lara who grabs her head and falls to her knees and clings to the mattress, her fingers gripping it like her life depends on it.
When I look up, I am not on the bed anymore, but I am on my knees beside it. The Lara on the bed is gone. Now she’s inside me. We are becoming one and the memories of being in Patricia’s house and shooting her are within me all at once. My mind reels as it tries to process the overload of information. I’m frying like an overworked computer processor.
I stand up and my legs wobble. I grab the wall of the room for support as everything goes blurry and I fall over. My body spasms and my head rocks back as my body trembles involuntarily. My muscles go rigid and like an electrical current the pain travels through my veins to every part of me.
****
“Unplug her! Get her out of there!”
I’m back in the real world and my cage is open. Men in white jackets are running all around me, but I can barely keep my eyes open. My limbs thrash about, knocking a metal tray over and medicine flies from its spot.
Someone caresses my forehead to hold me still. I groan and bite my tongue hard and blood sprays from my mouth. I try to cry in pain, but can’t. Someone injects my arm with something, I guess it’s to stop the seizure, and Delilah unplugs the electrodes from my head and then something from my neck. I reach around to touch it, but my hand is grabbed by another scientist.
“Sleep now, Lara. Sleep.” Her voice is sweet and kind. Almost like family.
I nod and try to say something. My lips part and I can’t stay conscious, but as I am fading out I hear Rex step into the cage. He’s talking to someone and I only hear his side of the conversation.