by Jill Cooper
“Little bits here and there trickled in at first. Lara did a lot of things before I jumped into her, thanks to the time travel. I couldn’t remember Jax being my step-dad, or dating you. But over time, I merged with her. It was painful and hard. But I remember it all now. I remember what I did here, and what I did before the time travel.”
“That must be hard.” Donovan’s face is solemn and I’m glad he is being so mature about everything. I don’t know if I could be if our situations were reversed. “Did you … have a boyfriend before?”
I nod. “It was … Rick.” I watch his face fall. “I never got out of that apartment building, Don. I grew up there. With him as my friend. But here, he’s different. He—” my face flickers with pain “—he isn’t the same guy I knew there.”
Donovan nods and for a few moments he is silent. “And you and I?”
“We were never friends,” I admit softly and watch the news sink in. “My dad avoided Rewind after Mom died. We saw each other at school, but … well, let’s just say we didn’t travel in the same circles.”
He looks down beaten. “Then I guess I really am a fool. I’m sorry, Lar.”
“I’m not.” I edge in closer to him. “Being here with you, at first I thought it was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to me.”
“Gee, thanks.” Donovan scowls.
“But I realize it’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. Like we’re meant to be.” My lips toy with his and his hands rest on my hips. The kiss is gentle and sweet. I want to make him feel what I feel, how perfect our union is and it’s not something built on high school. It’s built on a stronger foundation than that.
One that’s meant to last.
Outside, floorboards squeak and it draws both of our attention in an instant. I hold my breath as I stand up and tiptoe over to the door. Peering through the peek hole at first I don’t see anything. Then the rim of the hat comes into view and I make out the end of a flappy mustache. It’s them. They’re here.
I tuck back against the door like somehow they can see us. My eyes wide with fright, I don’t need to tell Donovan what I saw. Quietly, he packs up the duffle bag. Rushing over to the window, my hand pulls the curtain back and I check out the street.
The van is idling down by the curb and there are two men watching the street.
We’re boxed in and my chest tightens with anxiety. We’re so close to the finish line, but these guys just won’t give us any breathing room. What’re we going to do? If I was by myself the answer would be easy. I would use time travel to skirt the goons, but with Donovan here I’m afraid whatever I do might get him in trouble.
If only time travelers came with a passenger system.
I search for an answer I can’t find and then I gaze into Donovan’s eyes. Whatever we are going to do, we are going to do it together. His face is like my muse, it spurs on ideas and hope.
“You stay here.”
Donovan’s eyebrows pinch together. “Stay here? I’m going with you.”
“Where I’m going, you can’t travel. Trust me. I’ll be back in a blink of an eye.” I shrug. “Or two.”
I turn to move away and Donovan grabs my arm. He pulls me in and kisses me tenderly, stroking back my hair. I can feel his urgent need for me to stay, but I urgently need to go.
“Wish me luck,” I whisper and then, in an instant, I’m gone.
In my mind, I see the front of the motel, with its dingy exterior and cracking paint. I turn my back to it and where the van was is now empty. I position myself across the street and sit on the front steps. I’m not hidden. I’m right out in the middle of everything.
I want them to see me. I want to pull them away from the hotel as far as I can.
But to time travel while running for my life? I’ve never done it in real life, only in simulations inside the virtual reality. I don’t know if I really can, but it’s our only shot.
Sitting on the steps, I tear into my fingernail and then I see the van rounding the corner. It stops in front of the hotel and I leap to my feet. “Hey!” I pick up a pebble on the steps and throw it.
It bounces off the van and rolls to the street. Heads inside the van whip towards me.
I walk down with my legs straddling two steps. “You want me? Come and get me.”
The engine cuts and the doors to the van open. I jump down the steps and my legs nearly give way to the pressure of the pavement, but I don’t run yet. I wait to make sure they’re all getting out of the van.
When it’s clear they are coming for me, I take off and they pursue. I glance back as I run and nearly slam right into an old lady. “Sorry.” I cringe and grab her shoulders. She mutters something about ‘teenagers’ and I hurry past.
Traffic is speeding along and I know if I dive through the cars, I could get away, but getting away isn’t really my plan. At least not yet.
So I turn the corner. I don’t run as fast as I can, but I give myself a lead, basically buying myself more time in the future. Or is that the past? I can’t even keep it straight anymore.
I exit the alley and my feet charge. I’m in a dead end.
Frantic, I run up a set of stairs and try a door. When that doesn’t work, I jump up and catch a fire escape and shimmy my way up.
My arms are shaking as I pull myself up onto the roof. Something grabs at my ankle. I glance back and see the goon with the mustache. He’s snarling as his hand wraps around my joint. Screaming, I kick him in the face and then I pull myself up onto the roof.
A big, flat roof, but I see an exit.
Hopefully the door will be open.
I run to it and, when gun shots go off, I tuck and roll to safety. Squatted down low, I pull the door open and tumble down the stairs. My shoulder crunches and the pain blinds my vision. Talk about a bad exit strategy.
I crawl away and behind me I hear the quickening of footsteps. I’m out of breath and out of time. I glance at my watch and see it’s taken less than ten minutes for them to catch me.
Two hands seize my shoulders and two take my legs. My back arches and I scream, my head shaking left and right as I try to pull away. I have to at least look like I’m putting up a struggle and my fight or flight response is strong.
They take me down the stairs. “We’ve got her. We’ve got Montgomery. Finally.”
The mustache snarls at me. “This kid is way too much trouble. I say we tell James there was an accident and push her in front of a train.”
My heart quickens and I stare up at the ceiling tiles. This is it, the moment of truth. I couldn’t do it in the shower stalls at the YMCA, but my breath slows down. Everything around me begins to pixilate. I reach a state of calm I’ve only ever felt when being in the trance of watching television or getting lost in a good book.
I take a deep breath and everything around me shimmers. My limbs go free, my posture straightens and my eyes close. I think of Donovan and suddenly I can feel his lips on mine. I gaze up at him with a shy smile, but my head is pounding and it seems to drown out all sound, like living at the bottom of the ocean. “We have to go.” I grab his wrist.
“But you haven’t left yet.” A smile cracks the corner of his mouth. “Oh, I get it.”
Hand in hand, we exit our room and race down the fire escape. When the old, rickety stars rattle, Donovan takes me by the waist and makes sure I’m okay. The way he takes care of me is endearing even if I don’t need the extra attention. What I’ve been through he can’t grasp and I look forward to the day when everything slows down and I’m finally able to tell him.
Maybe I’ll cry. Maybe I won’t. I might be strong. I might be weak, but at least I’ll get to choose for myself.
We hit the pavement running and I peer around the corner. The coast is still clear and we make our way across the street toward the subway platform. We slow down long enough to buy a Charlie card and we gain access the legal way.
When we are in our seats and the train lurches forward, I glance at my watch. “
An hour to go.”
“I guess, then, it’s time to get ready. You sure about this?”
I nod, but the truth is I haven’t figured out how we’re going to get into the event to begin with. Donovan is running from his mom, the same as I am. I don’t know if she’s thought to take him off the guest list, but even if she has, maybe we can force ourselves in.
I just hope that all the pieces I set in motion are in play. If Senator Marcus O’Reily doesn’t show up to help me out of this jam, all of my careful planning might be for nothing.
Chapter Nineteen
We rent Donovan a tux. By the time I am wearing my slinky black and gold dress, my stomach aches from nerves. I dress in the tux rental ‘Mr. Tux’, even if the workers think it’s bizarre. I find a few stray bobby pins in the women’s changing area and pin my hair up in a sexy up-do with a few stray curls framing my face.
It’d be better if I had some lipstick, but I’m not going to the fundraiser to get on the front page of the Boston Globe. Still, I let out a deep breath and run my hands down the front of the dress. I turn and see Donovan staring at me over by the mirrors. If anyone ever looked more dashing than he does right now, I’d be surprised.
“How do I look?”
Donovan starts toward me and takes my hands. “Stunning. I wish we were doing this for a reason other than this. Any reason.”
“I know.” I go up on tiptoe to kiss him, more to calm my nerves than anything and it does settle me. I’m centered. And about as ready as I’m going to get.
“No matter what happens tonight, I love you.” Donovan nuzzles my cheek.
I close my eyes and wish I could freeze time to enjoy the warmth of his love just a while longer, but the sooner we get the show started, the faster this all can be over.
On the way out, we tip the manager at the counter. Donovan flags down a Boston Cab taxi with its white and brown doors. For a moment my mind flashes to the virtual world. The last time I was in a taxi like that Rex had been driving. It caused early labor and I lost Donovan—my baby was born premature.
The pain of all that loss cripples me. I can’t move. I know none of it was real. It never happened, but the pain was as real as any ever had been. It’s hard to tell the heart something the brain knows. How do you start to heal from something that never really happened?
“Lara?” Donovan wraps his fingers through my hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” I take a shaking breath and peer at the cab. “Yeah.” I say it stronger and with more conviction. “Let’s do this.”
****
When we get to the old Ritz hotel, there’s already a crowd. There’s a red carpet stretching from the Boston Public Library and it goes across the street to the hotel. Red velvet banners are set up and police are careful to watch the red carpet as senators and officers gather toward the front door. Bright lights flash from the press cameras and I realize this is it.
This is the moment I’ve been anticipating for two long years. I didn’t know it until right now, but everything is finally coming together. If I can just get to that carpet, I’ll be free.
Patricia and her goons could be anywhere, but if I can get in front of the cameras, surrounded by people, then I’m sure that I’ll be safe, at least temporarily.
It’s time to get inside.
With the drive safe in my pocket along with the microchip on my locket, I’m ready to crash the fundraiser. Donovan slides the financial documents and all the other paper trail information into a black laptop case and we head across the street. There’s a big bruiser of a man standing at a podium. He wears an ear piece and he is cross checking a list as people hand over their invitations.
Donovan yanks on his collar, a sure sign he’s nervous, as we hand over our invitations. My arm hooks through his and I do my best to appear bored.
“I’m going to have to check that bag,” the man says.
I place my hand on his arm. “Do you have any idea who this is? This is Patricia James’s son. I wouldn’t want to be the one who goes through his things.” I shrug. “Just saying.”
His gaze flicks from me to Donovan and when Don nods the security guard sighs. “Move along, Mr. James. Sorry for the trouble.”
“I won’t tell her if you don’t.” He cracks one of his winning smiles, destined to be a politician or a car salesman, I’m not sure which I fear the most. But I’m his—until the end, that much I know is true.
We step onto the red carpet and we travel slow. Flanked on either side by senators and celebrities, we approach the main hotel door at the pace of a snail. As it gets closer, the more nervous I become and when a reporter shoves a microphone in our face to get a quick sound bite it can’t happen a moment too soon.
Patricia is up ahead and her eyes meet with ours. The façade of her smile drops as her eyes flick to Donovan. His face falls and the color drains out of his face. I squeeze his arm to force him back into the present.
“Time travel can save the world, right?” I smile at the camera and Donovan laughs. He rubs his neck and it’s clear he’s nervous as we make our way down.
But Patricia isn’t moving. She’s staring straight at us and she whispers something to one of her handlers. As we get closer I wonder what’s going to happen. She can’t just shoot her son and his girlfriend in the middle of a crowded fundraiser, can she?
“Mrs. James, isn’t that your son? We need a photo op. Get everyone together.” The hyper woman must be Patricia’s assistant. Patricia tries to say no, she turns to look for a way out, but, before you know it, there we are. We’re all standing together for a photo.
Donovan has his arm around me and I gaze at Patricia. There’s a breadth of an ocean between us but there’s no denying the venom in her eyes even as she covers it with a friendly smile. There’s nothing friendly about a snake. She puts her arm around Donovan and beside me he tenses. She speaks through a slotted smile.
“Why don’t you stop this, the both of you, and come inside to talk? Let’s try to keep things civil.”
Patricia offers me her hand. I shake it and give her one of my own chilling expressions. “There’s nothing left to talk about.” I let her hand go and Donovan and I start our way up the stairs into the hotel. The double doors open thanks to two security guards in tuxes. Inside, everything is decorated with red tablecloths and a giant clock hangs from the vaulted window ceiling.
The hands on the clock spin backwards and for a moment my breath catches in my throat, but then I realize it’s not a real clock. It’s nothing but a prop.
Donovan squeezes my hand, as if he senses my distress. When a server comes by with champagne I wave him off. I want to keep clear headed. Now isn’t the time for celebrating.
At least not yet.
Going further into the room, I see a stage where Patricia will probably make a big speech. That’s where I need to be. That’s where I need to address the crowd.
To my left I see the chief of police in his dress uniform. We’re surrounded by as many police officers as we are politicians and that has to serve me well. My eyes sweep across, looking for more familiar faces. I make out Dad’s lawyer in the crowd, but I can’t find Marcus O’Reily. I really hoped he would be here.
But what if he thought I was crazy? What if he didn’t realize how serious I had been?
“Lara,” Donovan says and points.
I follow his finger and I see them. Patricia’s goons are there and if they catch us alone, I’m sure we’ll be forced out of the party—or worse. Edging Don with my hips, we join the Boston chief of police’s party. He’s speaking and he watches us as he finishes his story. When he’s done everyone laughs, and I crack a smile.
“And who would you be, young lady?”
I extend my hand. “Lara Montgomery. My mother—”
“—Works with Rewind. Pleasure.” He shakes my hand. “I’m sorry she fell ill and couldn’t be here tonight, but it’s nice to see that she sent you to represent her.”
“Time travel is
very important to us.” I make sure my smile is brilliant. “I actually have a very important speech to make on her behalf, so if you wouldn’t mind escorting me to the stage—”
“Escorting?” the police chief asks as Donovan hands the laptop bag over to me.
I sling it over my shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe the type of people I have bothering me all the time. I don’t know if it’s because I date a senator’s son, but I would feel so much safer if you would bring me to the stage.”
“Of course, Miss Montgomery.” The chief of police offers me his arm and I take it. I gaze back at Donovan and the worry in his eyes multiplies. My eyes tell him everything will be okay, but I can’t say that it will be.
I can’t say any of this is going to work out the way I want.
But at least I have a police escort now as we make our way through the banquet room. I keep my eye on Patricia’s goons as the chief of police helps me up the stairs. I slip backstage and slip the flash drive into the computer that is hooked up to the video system. I figure out how to queue up the video I want when behind me I hear a familiar voice.
“I thought it was you. Those shoes, that dress, but how is it possible you haven’t aged a day?”
I spin and smile at thirty-two-year-old Marcus O’Reily. “Marcus.” I go to him to say hello and he grips my arms.
“Time travel.” Marcus’ face is grim. “It’s the only answer for you and this invitation.” He holds it up and I see its crinkled around the edges from the last thirty years he’s kept it.
“I can’t believe you kept it all these years.”
“I threw it in a box,” Marcus admits. “I forgot about it until I was on the senate floor one day. When I heard her name, Patricia James, I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. And now here I am, but I don’t know what for.”
“Illegal experiments in the name of controlling time travel,” I answer quickly and bluntly. We don’t have a lot of time. “She wants to unlock the power of time travel in the mind. And she’s willing to hurt and kill anyone who gets in her way. My mother, reporters. And now that it’s been done to me, she wants nothing more than to make me her lab rat.”