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Glitch in Time

Page 15

by W. J. May

“That was…” Devon collapsed onto the mattress, panting softly as he gazed with wide eyes at the ceiling. “You were…”

  Rae bit her lip to stifle a little grin.

  All that building tension wasn’t for nothing. It had truly been one of their more spectacular performances. The cast was awkward, but not prohibitive. In fact, if anything, it forced them to get creative. To find new ways to get closer than ever before.

  And he hadn’t even used his powers with her, which was rare. Most times they were feeling a little…frisky, things got so heated there ended up being several casualties along the way. Mainly, the furniture. Rae remembered one time back in their early crime-fighting days, when Molly and Julian had walked past and saw their broken headboard. While Julian looked like he was going to be sick, Molly had beamed in silent approval.

  The memory still brought tears of laughter to Rae’s eyes.

  “Well, that was some world-class paella,” she teased. “I had to find a way to reciprocate.”

  He laughed softly and propped himself up on an elbow, gazing down with a twinkle in his eyes. “If this is what happens when I make you dinner, you can expect a lot more cooking in the days to come.”

  “Oh yeah,” she giggled, stoking his face. “Candlelit dinners for two?”

  “Why limit ourselves to dinner?” He pinned her hands and started kissing every inch of her face. “I’ll make you breakfast,” he kissed her chin, “lunch,” both her temples, “hell—I’ll even start serving afternoon tea.”

  “Tea?” She tried to fight him off, with absolutely no success. “Little scones and everything?”

  “You want scones? I’ll get you scones.”

  She grabbed the dark waves of his hair, yanking his face down to hers for a proper kiss. “That would be nice.”

  The kiss was long and sweet. Neither one of them was in any hurry to break it. When they finally did pull away, he looked just as overwhelmed as she was.

  “Yeah…” He got suddenly thoughtful. “It really would.”

  He pulled back even farther, cupping her cheek in his hand and gazing tenderly into her eyes. A million thoughts were running through his head, and he seemed to be deciding something.

  Whatever it was, Rae apparently came out on top.

  A second later his expression cleared, and he leaned down to kiss her again. Only, this time he accidentally pressed down upon her cast in the process.

  “Ow,” she flinched back, “Dev, you’re on my—”

  “Oh—shit! Sorry!”

  He couldn’t have pulled away faster.

  In a blur of speed the cast was readjusted, he was lying on the mattress, and she was back in his arms. He had even gone so far as to wrap her arm back across his chest for good measure. They sank into each other with a contented sigh of relief, and watched through the window as, one by one, the stars gave way to a light pink dawn.

  After a long stretch of silence, he finally spoke again. “Rae,” he breathed, so softly she could barely hear, “tell me again.”

  A sleepy smile stretched across her face as she nestled further into his arms. “Tell you what?”

  There was a slight pause.

  “Our story. Tell me again… our story.”

  Her breath caught in her chest as she twisted up to see him. Was he being serious right now? Was he possibly asking that question?

  But Devon had never looked more serene. His eyes were closed and his arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight against his heart. She stared a second more, then smiled.

  A feeling of blissful contentment stirred deep inside her, followed by the brightest kind of hope as she lay her head back on his chest and told him the story of their epic love.

  * * *

  Things might have been wild last night, but they were calm the next morning. Quite peacefully so. By the time Rae opened her eyes Devon was already downstairs, making breakfast. She heard the sizzle of eggs and bacon, followed by the cheerful bubble of the coffee maker as it made its morning brew.

  But Devon heard her as well.

  The second she sat up in bed he was there. Wearing little more than he had been last night, but he wore it with a smile.

  “Good morning.”

  It certainly was.

  “Good morning,” she echoed, letting her eyes soak it all in.

  He looked positively radiant. A testament to youthful vigor and physique, with a great deal of mischief thrown in as well. Sleep-tousled hair. Flushed cheeks. Twinkling eyes.

  …right down to the pair of crocodile boxers.

  She snorted with laughter when she saw them, and clamped her hands over her mouth. It was like one of those ‘what doesn’t fit in this picture,’ kind of games she used to play in waiting rooms when she was a child.

  “What are those?”

  “What?” He glanced down curiously. “Oh, these?”

  “Yes! Those!” Rae exclaimed, laughing as his cheeks blushed scarlet. “The cartoon alligators you’ve decided to wear, instead of bury.”

  If Molly could see him now, she’d light herself on fire.

  A decided chill fell over the conversation as he jutted up his chin and regarded her coldly. “They were a gift, I’ll have you know. From my mother.”

  Rae sat up higher, shaking her head seriously. “Devon, that can’t possibly be true. I happen to know that your mother loves you very much.”

  His face broke into a smile. “Shut up!” Without disturbing the mattress in the slightest, he leapt on top and began tickling her sides. “At least I can walk around unsupervised, you damn cripple!”

  “That’s not—” She gasped breathlessly and started again, “That’s not fair! I got this cast saving a baby, I’ll have you know! What did you do yesterday? Wash your car?”

  He dropped down beside her with a comical sneer. “No, yesterday was Wednesday. I only wash my car on the weekends.”

  “Oh,” she snorted, “my mistake!”

  A sudden cloud darkened his handsome face, and he ran his hands over his eyes. “Though, come to think of it, I should probably get it done sometime today.” She shot him a questioning look that he returned with a small sigh. “I’m seeing my parents tomorrow. Going over for dinner.”

  The festive mood dissipated quickly in the chilled air, but Rae sat up and looked at him intently. She had seen him and his father just the other day. She was shocked by how good things had been. Shocked and a little dismayed, considering the only thing that had changed in the equation was her absence. But he certainly didn’t look excited to be seeing them now.

  “Are things not…not good between you guys?”

  He shot her a sideways glance, as if debating whether he really wanted to get into the conversation, then leaned back with a flippant shrug. “He thinks I’m wasting my life. That I’m depressed and on a track going nowhere. That if there isn’t some cataclysmic apocalypse that requires my attention, I have no idea what to do with my time.”

  Rae stared at him in shock, and he gave her a hard smile.

  “…or something to that effect.”

  Come on, Kerrigan! Get it together!

  Now was obviously the point where she was supposed to contribute something but she didn’t, for the life of her, know what to say.

  Devon—on a track going nowhere? Devon—listless and depressed?

  It was absurd!

  When the silence became borderline impolite, she cleared her throat quickly and tried a different tack. “But your mom—”

  “The only reason my mom invited me to dinner is so that she and my dad can attempt some sort of intervention.” A glint of frustration shot through his eyes. “It’s happened before.”

  Again, Rae was quiet for a long time. Thinking. Worrying. Trying to piece it all together.

  “Why?” he asked with a crooked grin. “Does that surprise you?”

  Her face heated, and she dropped her gaze to the bed. “Yeah, actually,” she muttered. “Your life seems perfect.”

  “Perfect?”
He threw back his head with a sharp laugh. “Not remotely.”

  He was derisive and sure, but she still found it rather hard to believe. After all, this was the hero of the inked world—the guy who had just saved the world from Cromfield. He had friends, a home—two, in fact—and a family who seemed to love him very much. He was living the dream.

  “Oh, come on,” she tried to reason with him. “You and your friends just survived the battle at the factory. You rid the world from evil, and lived to tell the tale! You’re finally settling down, getting to live that normal life you always wanted. You’re having babies—”

  “Getting pregnant was the worst thing that ever happened to Molly,” he said shortly. “And she would be the first one to agree. She doesn’t go out. Doesn’t use her tatù. She didn’t even go to the factory: she was too worried that something might have gone wrong, and her life would be ruined forever. It’s crippled her. Nothing more. She’d trade that baby in a heartbeat if she could.”

  If Rae was shocked by Devon’s confession, she was absolutely reeling with the news about Molly. How could such a thing be true? Her brave best friend? The one who had overcome the worst life had to throw at her all because she got pregnant? The one who had risen above to defeat impossible obstacles all because she was desperate to have a normal life with her child?

  “And not everyone survived the factory,” he continued, before she could say anything. “A lot of the people who did wish they hadn’t. Guilder actually set up a trauma recovery program at the school for people who lost loved ones to deal with their grief. Set up the whole thing so they’re working in mentorship positions with the other students… Anything to keep busy.”

  Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

  Ellie. That’s why Ellie was at the school.

  Rae slowly shook her head, her face pale with shock.

  It seemed that this new post-Rae world wasn’t as cheerful as it seemed. There were scars beneath that glossy surface. Scars that ran too deep to see. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t know that things were like that.”

  Devon stared at her for a moment, abruptly getting to his feet. “No need to apologize. It’s the way things are.”

  Depressed and resigned. Two things the Devon she knew was most definitely not.

  “Come on,” he helped her to her feet with a tight smile, “eggs are burning.”

  She balanced there unsteadily and waved him off. “Yeah, just give me a second to get dressed and stuff. I’ll call you before trying the stairs. Okay?”

  “Sure.” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing back downstairs.

  Rae, however, was rooted to the spot.

  All at once, this normal life she’d been play-acting for the last twenty-four hours did nothing but leave a terrible taste in her mouth. The smiles were real, but the pain behind them was real as well. She had thought that people might be better off without her. For a split second she had actually considered leaving things as they were—starting over. Starting fresh.

  As if on cue, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She picked it up automatically, and glanced down at the screen. It was a text from Randall.

  ‘Seven-thirty sharp; I couldn’t have been more clear. Sorry, kid—you’re fired.’

  She stared at it for a moment before slipping it into her pocket.

  It was for the best.

  She wouldn’t need to be working there much longer anyway…

  Chapter 14

  After breakfast, Devon announced he was going to be staying with Rae in London for the rest of the week. The house back in Kent was scattered. According to him, they would never even know he was gone. While Rae sincerely doubted that, she appreciated the gesture. Even if it did throw a rather large wrench into her plans.

  When he finished clearing the table, he handed her another mug of coffee and her pain meds. After that, he went upstairs to get dressed. He was adamant he needed to stock up for the week. And with their laughable promise of sex for food, he decided to start at the grocery store.

  “I’ll only be gone for a half hour,” he promised, echoing his words the previous day. “If there’s anything specific you want, just text me and I’ll pick it up.” He bent down over the couch, and gave her a gigantic upside-down kiss on his way out. “Otherwise, I’ll see you soon.”

  She forced a grin. Looked him in the eyes. And lied. “See you soon.”

  Still beaming he kissed her again, slipped on his jacket, and headed out the door. He was already halfway through when he stopped suddenly, and stuck his head back inside. “Rae?” he called tentatively.

  She glanced up from the couch, heart pounding. “Yeah?”

  His eyes shone, and he opened his mouth to say something. But a second later he shut it again, shaking his head with a sheepish grin, and waved his hand. “Nothing. I’ll tell you when I get back.”

  Without another word he was out the door, leaving her frozen on the couch and feeling more dreadful than ever. And more determined.

  The second she heard the car pull away from the house, she spat out the pain pills that she’d been keeping in her cheek. As much as she craved the release, she needed her wits. The pain sharpened her focus, and with any luck she’d be needing that focus very, very soon.

  Then came the hard part. Getting up the stairs.

  Considering all the crazy things Rae had done over the last few years, considering all the ridiculous feats of strength, the irony was overwhelming.

  If only the rest of the Council could see me now…

  She clung to the banister like a near-sighted crab. Carefully feeling ahead each step before daring to put any weight down. Several times she pulled back with a muffled scream. Several times she almost gave up on the spot and waited for Devon to come and find her.

  But as fate would have it, Devon’s face was the only thing that kept her going.

  She was making this climb for him. For them. For that bright, carefree smile she knew so well. Not the lines of worry that had replaced it. For that future she’d gotten a glimpse of last night.

  With every step she got a little bit closer. A little bit closer to the life they’d always craved.

  After about fifteen minutes—much longer than she’d originally anticipated—she made it to the top. From there she was able to hobble down the hall with a relative lack of difficulty. But she didn’t go to Devon’s room. She went to Julian’s.

  The door pushed open with a reluctant creak. It was just as messy as the first time she’d stuck her head in. He clearly had made no attempt to clean it the night he’d come back. But messy or not, she knew it held the answer she was looking for.

  Not because it belonged to Julian. But because it was shared by his girlfriend.

  “If I was a hidden weapon, where would I be?”

  She paced around in a slow circle, gripping the furniture for support. She knew for a fact that—whether Julian liked it or not—Angel kept a gun in the house. She knew it, because Gabriel did exactly the same thing. At this point, it wasn’t even a conscious choice. It was more like they couldn’t imagine a situation in which they wouldn’t have it.

  Devon had thrown a fit the first time he’d seen it. Their lives had enough danger without her hiding loaded weapons in the floorboards, he’d said. Julian had echoed his sentiments in a far meeker voice, and Angel had sworn that she’d thrown it away.

  Rae knew better.

  Come on, Angel. Where did you put it?

  With way too many options, and way too little time, Rae gave up randomly searching and sat down to think. Where would Angel hide a weapon?

  Knowing her personality, the ease of the location didn’t really matter. Whether it was submerged in the sheetrock, or in a box on the bookshelf labeled ‘gun’, the girl would find a way to grab it in time. It wouldn’t be in any of the obvious places, because she didn’t want Julian to know it was there. And yet, given the level of chaos in the room…what was even defined as obvious?


  A clock on the wall caught Rae’s attention, and she punched the wall in frustration.

  Freakin’ A, Angel! Where the hell is it?

  That’s when her eyes came to rest upon a familiar picture. A tiny gasp escaped her lips, and she hobbled quickly to the other side of the room. Two beautiful faces smiled back at her.

  It was an up-close ‘couples shot’ of Julian and Angel on the beach. A memento of a group trip in a happier time. Ironically enough, Rae had taken the picture herself, sitting beside them on the sand. Julian’s arm was thrown across Angel’s slender shoulders. His eyes were closed, and he was kissing her theatrically on the cheek. And while she was scoffing like the whole thing was beneath her, she couldn’t have possibly looked any happier.

  At some point or another, it had been blown up and professionally framed. Aside from the clock and a couple of Japanese katanas, it was the only thing mounted on the wall.

  Of course…

  Rae had been asking the wrong question. Not where would Angel keep a gun. But why.

  To protect Julian.

  Without stopping to pause, she dug her fingernails into the wall by the frame. The portrait didn’t budge, and she wished for the millionth time that day that she had her powers. But then, after a minute or two of trying, the thing finally sprang loose.

  It didn’t fall down. Angel was too smart for that, and secretly too sentimental to risk breaking it. Instead, it swung gently forward, mounted on the side by a hidden hinge.

  A small hole had been sawed into the sheetrock. One just large enough for the tiny handgun Rae saw glistening inside. She blinked at it for a split second before stuffing it into her purse.

  Don’t judge, Kerrigan. Everyone nests in different ways.

  The second it was secure she was off again, back down the hall. Every movement was labored, sluggish, and slow. The entire thing was taking a lot longer than she had time for.

  She made it well enough down the stairs, only slipping twice, before collapsing in an exhausted pile at the bottom. With a vicious glare, she glanced down at her cast.

  You’re never going to get the drop on anyone wearing that thing…

 

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