Time Loop: A Time Travel Thriller (The Rewind Conspiracy Book 2)

by Jill Cooper

  “The time travel gala? Yeah, but you know I never go to those events…” Donovan’s eyebrows lift up. “You want to go? Both of us?”

  “I even bought a new dress.” I shrug. “It’ll be the perfect place to out Patricia. The place is an event for cops and senators.”

  “Who support her,” Donovan points out.

  “But when faced with what she’s done? There’s no way they’ll keep quiet. Reporters will be there. They can’t sweep it under the rug. Then maybe, just maybe—” I take a deep labored sigh “—this can be over and I can go back to being normal. Whatever that is.”

  Donovan smirks. “Whatever that is for you.” I can’t read his eyes, but his hands are still on me and he pulls me in for an embrace.

  I welcome it more than he can ever know. I rest against his chest and my hand caresses his neck, leaning against him. Donovan rubs my back and we sway slightly, even though there is no music. I wonder if this can be our future, if he can stick with me long enough to get through this, because outing Patricia is just the beginning. Next, there will be police questions. There will be media and the mafia.

  I doubt they are just going to look the other way as I unravel all of this. That means police protection. Protective custody. Maybe even witness protection. I have no idea what the future holds and it makes me nervous.

  But it also makes me happy because, for the first time in two years, at least I have a future.

  “Come on.” Donovan takes me by the hand. “Let’s get some sleep before the crazy of tomorrow starts.”

  “Just a second.” I take the flash drive and grab my duffle bag before following him into the bedroom.

  I make sure the duffle bag is on my side of the bed before I slip off my shoes and unzip my hoodie. My body should have scars from all the tests and experiments that Rewind did on me thanks to Rex and Patricia. But because those things never happened, my skin is smooth. It is clear of abuse. No welts. No redness.

  But to me, it’s more real than this. My fingers run across my smooth skin where there used to be discoloration or a bump. I can’t feel it anymore, but inside the scars are still there. They run deep, and as I close my eyes the only thing I can see is that damn glass box Rex kept me in.

  My own screams echo in my ears even though I am silent.

  The hands of the orderlies might as well be pulling on me to control me even though no one is touching me at all.

  So when Donovan does touch me, his hands caressing my arms, I flinch and snort a deep breath. “Easy, Montgomery,” he whispers and kisses me from behind right at the nape of my neck. “It’s just me.”

  I turn my head and gaze at his warm, understanding face. My lip puckers and tears fill my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t cry. Maybe I should just be happy, but when he spins me around and hugs me, I nearly lose it. I cling to him and the belief that this is all happening.

  I bury my face in his shoulder and I can feel him. His skin is warm. His heart beats beneath my ear. The clock in the room is ticking in the right direction, but I can’t trust that anymore either. I’ve been running from the fear since I traveled back in time that none of this is real.

  That this is just an illusion.

  How can I be sure? How can I know?

  I trace his chest with my fingertip. “Are you real? Is any of this?”

  Donovan can’t know what I’m talking about, but he touches my chin and, gingerly, our lips meet. It sends my heart soaring to feel his tender love. It can’t prove how real any of this is, but I choose to believe.

  I choose faith, that somehow everything will all work out.

  ****

  I sleep like the dead and when I wake up my stomach is sour with nerves. It doesn’t take long for everything to rush back at me. Rolling over onto my stomach beside Donovan, he’s still asleep and I am able to stroke his face, wondering if in two years we’ll still be together. Will we be as solid as we were in my virtual world? Or will he become just another rich playboy? Will I be just a notch in his belt and maybe one day he’ll only think back on me fondly as that crazy Montgomery girl?

  When his eyes open, Donovan smiles and my worries melt away. His hand searches beneath my hair and pulls me in for a kiss. I feel awkward about spending the night even if nothing happened between us, but when he greets me like that, it makes everything better.

  “Morning.” I bite my lip and give him another kiss.

  “You sleep okay?” Donovan messes with my hair.

  “For the most part.”

  He leans up on his elbows. “I heard you screaming. You bolted out of bed.”

  I shrug it off, even though I remember the dream. “I’m fine now. Just one of those dreams that gets you. I have a lot to be nervous about.” I slide up in the bed and lean against the headboard.

  Donovan eyes me. “I’ll make coffee. If you want some.”

  “Wow.” I’m impressed. “You know how to make coffee?”

  Donovan chuckles. “Yeah, I pick up the phone and call a servant. Oh, I’m kidding. Don’t go so pale. What happened to your sense of humor, Montgomery?” He kisses my cheek before standing and rolls a t-shirt over his head. “I’ll be right back.”

  I nod and watch him go, hugging my knees to my chest. When he leaves I pull my jeans back on and my hoodie. I go through my duffle bag and sigh with relief that everything is still there. I know I should trust Donovan, but I can’t. Everything is going too smoothly, at least considering my track record.

  I grab my gun from the duffle bag and stow it in the back of my jeans. Tugging on my sweatshirt to make sure it’s covered up, I go over to the door.

  My hand on the doorknob, I hear voices. Voices. My heart skips and I place my ear to the door. “Are you sure you haven’t heard from her?”

  It is Patricia. Damn it. I glance around the room and look for an exit. There’s nothing but a window and an adjoining bathroom. I could escape that way if I wanted to, but I’d rather give Donovan time.

  He’s smooth. He can handle his mother.

  “Not since I dropped her off at home yesterday. I bumped into her and the twins at the mall. Is something wrong?”

  “Oh no.” Patricia sighs with what sounds like relief, but I know that can’t be true. She really is good at faking. “There was just a report on television about—well, you’re going to hear about it sooner or later. Her uncle was killed. And there’s no sign of her or her family.”

  “Wow.” Donovan’s voice is filled with shock. “I didn’t—I’ll call her and see if I can find her.”

  “Thank you. If you reach her, I need to know immediately. Miranda is a close friend and an ally at Rewind. We need her.” Patricia pauses. “Is there a reason you stayed in the pool house last night?”

  “Studying. I was up late and didn’t want to wake anyone when I snuck down for those midnight snacks.”

  Patricia laughs and kisses his cheek. “Such a good boy. If you do hear from Lara, don’t tell her I’m looking for her, okay? Who knows what happened last night and we don’t want to spook her.”

  “I won’t. Promise.”

  “Good. Off to school soon? Try not to be late.”

  When the front door closes, I breathe a sigh of relief and back away from the door. Donovan sneaks back in and his eyes are lined with relief. “Did you know about that? Your uncle?”

  I shake my head and scowl to hide the falseness of my answer. “No, I didn’t. Maybe the thugs got him.”

  “You’re not a very good liar, Lara.” Donovan puts his hands on his hips. “What happened to your uncle?”

  I shot him seems like an answer that will be hard to accept. “Rex was the one who tried to murder my mother.”

  “Your uncle? He killed that girl in the alley?”

  That girl who is me? My heart clenches. “Yes. He was paid by Patricia and last night he tried to kidnap me and take me to her. I got away. Something else must have got him.”

  Donovan nods and he’s ghostly white. “I just can’t believe any of this is
really happening. It’s crazy.”

  He doesn’t even know the half of it.

  “Do you think she’ll come back here? I can’t risk going out there and being seen by her or any of her men.”

  Donovan glances back over his shoulder even though the bedroom door is shut tight. “No, I don’t, but if it makes you feel better I can bring breakfast in here.”

  I nod with relief. “Thanks. Yeah, I think that would make me feel much better.”

  He goes back out and closes the door. I sit on the bed and chew on a fingernail with nerves. While he clinks plates and utensils in the kitchen, I use my phone to call my Dad’s lawyer’s office.

  Mr. Franklin is surprised to hear from me so soon. “I have more surprises for you, but you’ll need to meet me tonight. I have evidence that proves Dad is innocent and I need you to be at this address.”

  I give him the address and then toss my phone back down into the duffle bag. The bedroom door opens and Donovan stands there with a tray of food, but his expression is all wrong. Instead of happiness, there’s fear.

  “Don?” I stand up as he enters and then someone pushes him down from behind. The food and hot coffee splatter everywhere. I squeal and turn my head as the hot liquid splatters across my cheek.

  Footsteps enter the room and I’m face to face with the thugs from the YMCA the other night. The large one with the flapping mustache grabs me by the shirt and pulls me close. “I ought to…”

  “Enough!” Patricia screams and enters the room. “Let her go.”

  My mouth falls open as she steps closer. I back up and gaze down at Donovan. He tries to lean up, but the thugs train guns on him. “Mom, whatever is going on—”

  “—Stifle it, Donovan,” Patricia barks at him. “You’ve picked your alliance. We will deal with you later. First, you.” She crosses her arms and stares me down and it’s hard not to tremble in her presence.

  Instead, I quiver and glance down at the duffle bag.

  “Is this everything you have?” Patricia peers down and pulls the canvas apart to see inside. “Well, here are your phones and a gun. Just a girl you said,” Patricia says to her thugs; to me, she says, “Hmmpf. If we weren’t on the same side, I would have to congratulate you.”

  “It’s not our fault. She stopped time or something. She was there and suddenly she just wasn’t.”

  “Plus, all our things were just gone.”

  Donovan’s face rolls with disbelief, and when our eyes lock it’s clear he sees the truth of their words on my face. “Lara?” he whispers.

  I glance down at the floor. “Let Donovan go. He doesn’t know anything.”

  “About time travel? About what you can do?” Patricia crosses her arms. “I had my suspicions Rex was lying when he said he saw you ten years ago in that alley, that you were the one he shot and killed so Miranda could go on living, but after what’s happened in the last several days… I must tell you, Lara, I’m intrigued and I have to have you.”

  I frown. “I’m not an object. You can’t just have me. That’s your problem. You view people as possessions. You’ll do anything you can to get what you want.”

  Her eyebrow raises. “And you know me so well?”

  My jaw clenches. “Better than you think.”

  “Well, I will love to have this conversation with you”—Patricia wipes her hands on the back of her skirt—“but first you need to tell me where your family has gone. How I can find them.”

  I open my mouth to give her a ‘hell no’ but before I do she raises her hand to stop me. “I promise you, no harm will come to you. Molly. You will be reunited with your family and you will be well paid for your time.”

  I laugh. “Please. You expect me to believe that? I know you’ll never let me go. I hold the secrets to everything you want.”

  Her eyes tick back and forth. “So… We’ve done this before.”

  “I beat you before and I’ll do it again.” My lips snarl with anger.

  Patricia stares at me. “So, you’ll just keep going back in time until everything is fixed? Until you win and I lose?”

  “Pretty much.” I shrug my shoulders.

  “Shoot her.” Patricia steps out of the way.

  I back up and look for a place to escape. Donovan screams. “Mom, no!”

  Patricia snaps her fingers as a thug steps up to me and my heart is pounding with rage. “With pleasure, ma’am.”

  I scream, cover my face and drop to the ground. I hear the shot and then the bullet sludge through the air toward me, but before it hits it freezes. The extreme emotion in me has frozen time. I glance at Patricia’s angry face and then at Donovan’s look of rage, hurt, and disbelief.

  If I’m going to escape, he’s coming with me.

  Grabbing my duffle bag, I jump over the bed and squat down low beside him. “Donovan!” I touch his shoulder and he snaps awake like he’s been in a deep sleep.

  “Lara?” He glances around and when he realizes time is frozen except for us, he jumps. “Did you—”

  “—There’s no time to explain.” I grab his wrist and pull him up. We dart through the bedroom and out the front door. “We need to get as far away from here as possible.”

  “My sports car.” Donovan stops by the pool and stares down at the frozen ripple in the center. “Everything is just stopped? Everything?”

  “Not for much longer.” I stroke his shoulder. “I can’t control how long it lasts. So we need to go.”

  He accepts my answer and takes my hand. We run for the garage beside his house. There are two rows of cars and Donovan fishes out his keys. I get into the passenger seat and check the duffle bag for everything.

  Evidence, invitation, flash drive.

  Everything is there.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as we peel away from the garage and behind us, I hear the sound of a gunshot.

  Screaming, I sink down low into my seat. “Donovan!” I scream as the car swerves around the bend of the road. The old masonry Boston buildings whiz by. Horns wail as we swerve into the other lane and people on their way to work jump out of the way.

  I spin in my seat and peer behind my headrest.

  The van that I was pulled into at Rick’s house is chasing behind us. Donovan’s face is frozen in concentration as he grips the wheel and gives it a hard yank to make a right hand turn down another street lined with mansions. Prestige.

  And hidden secrets.

  “Can you stop them?”

  I shake my head that I can’t. “I can’t freeze time on purpose yet. It just happens.”

  “You’re going to have to explain that to me. All of this, Lara.” Donovan shakes his head.

  I promise I will. “If you can just get us away. If we can find somewhere to hide. I’ll tell you everything, but if I told you without you seeing it, you’d never believe me.”

  He doesn’t argue. He yanks the wheel to the left and we go over the curb, barely missing someone who tosses his Dunkin Donuts coffee cup and dives against the wall. I cringe as the van banks behind us coming up close behind.

  Donovan shifts the car; his jaw is tense. In front of us is a series of towering brick buildings and if we miss the turn we’ll be like sardines in a can. “Hold on.”

  I grip the seat cushion and using the side mirror all I can see are headlights. The van is close to crashing into us. As the car turns I squeeze my eyes shut and rock toward Donovan as we take the turn hard. The wheels pop up onto the curve and our horn wails to warn people gathered on the sidewalk. We’re dangerously close to scraping the brick wall with the side of our car.

  We bank off the curb and in the rear-view mirror the van fishtails as it chases us. I gasp for breath, my heart beating so fast I can barely control either. Air is caught in my throat; my vision splits, I don’t know if I’m about to jump back in time or freeze everything, but instead pain builds in my head.

  I groan and grab it.

  “Lara!” Donovan calls and the sedan comes to a sudden stop.

  Lu
rching forward, I squeal as the seatbelt tightens. The pain in my head starts to dissipate and when I look up, I see the street is blocked by a giant semi-truck trying to back up into a small back alley to deliver his morning supplies.

  I glance over my shoulder. The van’s approaching.

  “Don?” The truck is never going to get out of the way in time.

  He stops the car and pulls out the keys. He doesn’t need to say anything. We both unbuckle our seat restraints. I grab my duffle bag from the back and we bolt from the car. Donovan extends his hand to me. Taking it, my legs pump and threaten to take me past him, I was once a sprinter in high school, but I haven’t had to run like this in a long time.

  We round the corner and behind us, the men follow. “Catch up to them!”

  Donovan and I bank across a car and turn down a side street. There’s no time to catch our breath or discuss where we’re going. We just have to keep running. Dumping into a back alley, we charge through a puddle, our feet pounding the pavement, as a gun fires.

  I scream and we duck our heads. We spit out into a busy intersection and there are pedestrians waiting at a light to cross the street. I don’t think Patricia’s goons will care if people get hurt. We need to find a way out of there and fast.

  We duck against a wall and my eyes gaze across the cityscape. Finally, I see a giant T hanging beside a building.

  The subway.

  I point at it as I’m still gulping for air. Donovan’s eyes train on it and he nods. “Let’s go,” he husks out, he re-takes my hand and we run for the subway steps. A flock of pigeons fly up as gunfire renews. Pedestrians scream and some dive for the ground as our feet meet the steps. We slide down the railing into the dark underbelly of the city. The smell of diesel engines surrounds us and I hear a familiar call.

  “Hot popcorn. Peanuts.”

  Donovan’s face is red with exertion and the sound of feet slamming the steps comes from behind us.

  “Hey someone, stop those kids!”

  There’s no time to buy a token or a Charlie card. Off in the distance, I hear the rumble of a train. Donovan nods at me and we jump the turntable. Up ahead the train is pulling in and behind us, the goons are closing in fast. The T-attendant screams at us. “Come back here, you need to pay!”