In the Wrong Year (Double-Check Your Destination Book 1)

by Amabel Daniels

  “Yeah.” Another hard exhale. “So he’d saved me and kind of adopted me. It was more like training, I guess, and I became his apprentice. Marcel accepted me into the ‘crew’, as he calls it, and when Pete died, I took over for him.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jake.” His own father tried to sell him? How unimaginably cruel. I’d never met my dad, but that seemed a minor misgiving compared to being sold by one.

  “In the past, sweetheart.” His grin seemed forced. “But thanks.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “Passed away during my birth.”

  He and I had that in common, then. I had no way to know if my mother was alive, but she’d been absent my entire life. Not such a stellar fact to share, though, but I could commiserate that with him.

  I cleared my throat as he turned off the water. “Then…how old are you now?”

  “I jump time. Old is a relative term.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “The better way to word that question would be…” He stepped out and began drying himself off with a towel. “How aged I am. How long my body has existed from birth.”

  I watched as he dried off. A virile, sexy, masterful man stood a foot away. The ultimate tease within my reach, but if I kept my gaze on his taunting, smug face, I could refrain from drooling.

  And I waited.

  He’d dried off, whisking water at my face from rubbing at his hair again, and pulled on boxers.

  Jeez.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” He raised his brows at me.

  I groaned. “Are you going to answer?”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “Oh, my God!” I stood, peeved. “You are so—argh!”

  He caught my arm as I made to exit the room. Slammed a kiss on me too.

  “You are such a pain in the ass.”

  Grinning, he kissed my cheek. “You’re sassy when I rile you up.”

  I entertained him. How precious. Although he was annoyingly fun.

  “How long have you aged?” Because, yeah, that doesn’t sound weird and formal. I did see the distinction, though.

  “I’m roughly thirty-three.”

  I grunted my reply.

  “Are you going to get dressed?” he asked, cupping my ass.

  I whined, dodging out of his wicked touch. “Don’t tempt me.” I couldn’t keep yo-yo-ing back and forth from ultra-lust to serious discussions about survival. For a minute, I wanted to think straight. “So, Pete was like your boss?”

  “Basically. A party-loving, woman-chasing, ready-to-joke boss. You don’t think Helen could have fallen for him?”

  “No.” I left the room to find clothes. “Helen wasn’t into guys. Like ever. She was quiet. Liked to read. A homebody who never traveled. Not that we’d ever had the credits to go anywhere exotic.” Pulling my shirt over my head, I continued talking loud enough he’d hear me in the bathroom. “She’d go to her manufacturing job, put her time in, come home, cook bland food, and do it all over again.”

  It sounded cruel to reduce her life to such a routine, and I loved her dearly, but Helen had no life. From my young eyes, she played it safe and lame.

  “She’s a strict disciplinarian who doesn’t break rules. So I assume she’d never be the kind of woman to act on attraction.”

  Jake exited the bathroom, pulling a shirt over his head. “Unlike you.”

  I smiled to myself. Hey, I’d own up to my desire as I damn well pleased. “Unlike—”

  He frowned as he poked his head through the garment. My gasp clearly caught his attention. “Unlike…?”

  “Unlike me. A daydreaming, restless young woman who always reminds her of one of her younger sisters.”

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  “My mom. What made you think Pete was with Helen instead of one of the other sisters?”

  He lowered his arms, his smug face sober now. “Because he’d said so. He’d told me he’d left something with the Olson girl. Singular.”

  I set my hand on my hip. “There were three of them.”

  He raked his hand through his hair. “I’d only found Helen Olson in my research.”

  “The youngest, Josie, was some medic lady who’d traveled for charity. Last we heard of her was during the Dust Storms in Brazil of ’66. I never met her. Then the middle, my mom, she did change her name at some point. Something about a stalker or whatever. Aunt Helen never said much about it. She never wanted to talk about her siblings at all. Josie sounded like a juvenile delinquent Helen had to babysit when they were younger. My mom was too free-spirited, and Aunt Helen didn’t seem to approve of the way she’d lived her life. Mad she’d dropped out of college…” I waved my hand, dismissing what was too much information. He didn’t need a genealogy lecture.

  He stared at me, a level of alarm that freaked me out. “Fuck. Then what am I doing with you?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ouch.

  Jake paced, running his fingers through his hair.

  I sort of understood what he meant, but the way he’d delivered his confusion stung.

  What was he doing with me?

  Well, he’d shown up to save me from being stabbed by the last guy I’d stupidly slept with.

  Then he protected me from borgs.

  And…gave me an orgasm I’ll remember and shiver at for all times.

  I watched him pace, feeling oh so dumb. Once again, logic and rational thoughts were MIA. Every minute I spent with this cocky ass had me feeling like it was something of kismet that we’d met and clashed together. A world-wise and versatile time traveler like him just happening to find me in all the corners of the world and in any stretch of time in history.

  Was I alone in that sentiment?

  I swallowed hard, hating I might be.

  How could I get so…attached to him?

  “I jumped to 2071 three days before I found Freddy. And you. I’d staked out Helen’s house day and night, trying to find a way in.”

  I crossed my arms and leaned my butt against the table’s edge. “You know, you strike me more as an everlasting thief than anything else.”

  He shrugged, still pacing and not looking at me. “Minor grievances.”

  “You’re above the law because you can jump time to avoid arrest?”

  “Hell no. I’ve just learned not to get caught.” He clenched his fist as he strode back and forth like a beast on the hunt. “I staked her house and couldn’t get in. Nor did she ever go anywhere.”

  I nodded, even though he might not see me. “Since she retired, she stays in and has things delivered.”

  “A recluse, yeah, I got that. Neighbors called the cops on me, security cams found me. So I looked further and figured you might help me get in her house. Which I’m guessing was Freddy’s strategy, too, since I found him with you.”

  “But he’d been hitting on me for weeks.”

  Nodding, he rubbed at his jaw. The friction of the short stubble there sounded like a gentle rasp. Vividly, I could remember how it had felt in my hand, along my stomach, against my thighs—

  I crossed my legs and squirmed.

  Cool it, fool.

  “All right. Then you’ve got to be connected somehow. What’s your mom’s name?”

  “Tina…something.”

  “Where’s she if Helen raised you?”

  I shrugged. “No clue. Helen adopted me because my mom ran off. I never met her.” Aunt Helen seldom spoke of my mom, and from her stern grimace at the mention of my mom’s name, I learned it was a topic to avoid.

  He shook his head, staring at the ceiling. “We need more info. Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To find a phone. I need to get on the internet.”

  “What about the phone I had earlier?”

  “No.” He slanted me a stern look.

  What did I do? It was a smartphone, right?

  “That was how the borgs found us,” he said as he gathered our stuff into the same backpack he’d o
riginally stolen. “You had it on you at the café, right? Well, the borg likely sensed it. The café’s Wi-Fi had to have picked up the locator on the phone, and the borg probably filed the ID for tracking. Edward’s got surveillance programs coded all over time, and he must have used it to detect that signal to track you with it.”

  I stared at him, squinting for a moment. “Huh?”

  “I’ll explain later. I’ve disabled that one, but for now, we need to find a new phone.”

  He’d already collected all of our stuff. I winced, spotting my shoes. I really didn’t want to wear them again.

  After a sigh, I moved to put them on, muttering, “After you.”

  Jake and I walked around the area until he planned to break into an apartment complex. It should have been called Rundown Hills instead of Sunshine Hills. The duplex hosted shot-up walls, busted windows, and so much litter. All that plastic. Jeez. They needed a team of bots to fix it up, but Jake swore those were the kinds of places to hit pay dirt.

  He asked me to wait outside the front lobby in case trouble waited for him in his B&E endeavor.

  “Will I be safer out here, though?” I hated to ask, despised feeling clingy.

  “Hmm. Good point.” He stalked off, kicking through garbage and debris wedged under some dead bushes.

  “Use this on them,” Jake advised, handing me a slim metal pipe he’d found on the ground. Short but dense, I thought they called it a crowbar.

  “How does that work on a borg, anyway?” I doubted I could have beginner’s luck twice and ram a point into another one’s rear interface so perfectly.

  Still scoping out the area, he said, “An impact of metal changes the metallic gridwork just under the skin. If they’re not one hundred percent identical in compositional makeup, they can’t jump through time again.”

  I’d raised my brows. “Huh.” I tested its weight in my hand.

  “We think that glitch was a fix he’d settled on for the AI issues. Borgs were susceptible to AI pests, which usually modified borg’s gridwork to penetrate their operating systems. And once those AI mutants started traveling through time…” He huffed. “Never mind. Just know hitting them with metal is bad. They know that too, so they tend to disappear at the threat of being struck with it.”

  I saluted. Then mocked a baseball pose. “Batter up.”

  He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he wanted to smile.

  Still, he hesitated in leaving me there. “Don’t…go anywhere.”

  “You’d miss me? Worried you’ll lose me?” I exaggerated a pout. I had no wish to stray.

  His grin was devilish as he hauled me in for a fierce hug. “Lose you? I can always hunt you down again.” Then he parted after a breath-stealing, knee-weakening kiss.

  So, there I was for the next twenty minutes or so, standing on the sidewalk, loathing the ever-present pavement. Bored, I absently stared at this box with printed papers in it. In my peripheral vision, I kept a lookout for borgs appearing.

  I scoffed at the headline on the paper. Newspaper? Odd “news” if it was.

  Bridges Help People Cross Water.

  Shaking my head, I wondered about the general IQ of this decade.

  No shit, they do.

  “I know, right?” a man said as he lit up a cigarette near me. “That’s what we got. A damn Cheeto running the country.” He coughed around a bitter snarl.

  Say what? Literally, a Cheeto? That retro-junk food?

  I looked at the paper again when he jerked his thumb in that direction.

  Oh. The bigger, bolder headline about the administration’s impeachment.

  “A reality TV star for a President,” he scoffed.

  “At least it’s not another John Wayne, though. Right?”

  He squinted at me behind a plume of smoke. “What?”

  Wait. I could have sworn a movie guy had been president way, way back when.

  “You mean Reagan?”

  Oops. “Oh. Yeah.” Close enough.

  He closed one eye and pointed at the paper in the box that asked for two dollars for a copy. Oh, it’s like a newspaper vending stand. Huh.

  Shaking his head and he aimed at the headline, he groused, “He’s going to go down as the worst Mr. President in all times. Ever.”

  “No, no, no, no, no.” I rolled my eyes. “The worst President? Just you wait. Our current Madame President is the worst. You haven’t seen anything yet. I mean, last week, our self-appointed ‘queen’ singlehandedly caused—”

  Jake’s look of chagrin showed just beyond the man.

  Dammit. I was doing it again. Running my mouth about the future.

  He kept approaching, leveling a stern glare at me as he neared.

  “Dammit!” I muttered to myself and stomped my foot slightly.

  Ow. Bad move.

  “Trouble. That’s what you are,” he whispered as he joined me.

  We walked down the sidewalk together.

  “Don’t you ever…want to correct people? Set them straight?”

  “I don’t make a habit of encouraging arguments with random passersby, no.”

  “I just—” I huffed out a breath. “I’m not used to being wrong. Feeling like an alien landed on a foreign planet. This is all unsettling. Bizarre.”

  He glanced at me and surprised me by taking my hand. “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m not bitching at you. It’s just…well, didn’t you think it was weird when you first jumped time?”

  “Maybe. Yeah?” He shrugged. “I’ve jumped so many times, I roll with it.”

  “Practice makes perfect?”

  “You don’t think it’s interesting? Being in another time?”

  I laughed. “What? I’d never say that. I’m…astounded. First of all, the plastic! It’s everywhere.”

  He chuckled.

  “And the cars.” I panned my head, watching a bus zoom by. “The doorknobs.”

  “The manual showers?”

  I elbowed him. “Funny. It is fascinating, but I’m taking it in with a learning curve.”

  His smile hinted at relief. I couldn’t understand why he’d be so worried about my opinion of this experience. It wasn’t like I’d be rating a vacation package over it.

  “So, did you get a phone?”

  He glanced back down the block from where we’d come. “Oh, yeah. And more cash.”

  “At that dump?”

  “I’m telling you. Drug dealers always have goods on hand.”

  I made a face at him. “Goods? You sound like a…a pirate or something, taking someone’s loot.”

  “That’s a bit harder.”

  “What is?”

  “Well, getting on board the ships, for one.”

  Actual pirates? I couldn’t help but gawk.

  “I’ve gone on wild goose chases after agents who jumped back and forth in time. And I’ve taken a couple of things from pirates in the process. But that’s more Nick’s thing. He really likes the turn into the seventeenth century. He digs the whole Golden Age stuff.”

  “You’ve been on a pirate ship?”

  He winked.

  Wow. The things and places he must have seen… Envy ignited, and I squelched it before it consumed me.

  Aunt Helen never let me travel. Encouraged boring-ass hobbies. No…permission to consider an adventure at all, which was the ultimate buzzkill for a wandering mind like mine.

  “I’ll grab us something to eat, and we can see what we can find, all right?” He indicated a truck with a huge window ahead. Parked off the sidewalk, I tried to guess what it was.

  “Food truck,” Jake explained with a small smile after I’d stared at it like it was an object from outer space. He carried two plates with foil-wrapped bundles.

  “There’s a table over there.” He indicated a table under a palm tree in what looked like another garden. Public garden. No fences or guard dogs chained to prohibit trespassers.

  Jake went right up to the table.

  I walked slowly, letting the soft, lush
grass spring under my feet. My pace was slower as I stared at the trees, noticed the flowers, inhaled a deep whiff of…fresh air.

  When I finally made my dazed way to the table, I found Jake staring at me, something like affection in his eyes. I watched as he unwrapped the stuff, setting half toward me and the rest for himself.

  “It’s a shock, huh?”

  I sighed, so charmed by the sunny…well, life around us. “Everything’s so cheery. Alive.”

  “Compared to the dark granite world of your time.” He nodded, biting into a tan half-moon thing. “The time when grass doesn’t grow, non-harvestable plants are signs of the elite. Pavement replaced with dry dirt.”

  “What is with all the pavement?”

  He rolled his eyes, chewing.

  I picked up my food and peered at it. A valley made of…crushed corn? With meat inside?

  Wiping at his mouth after he swallowed, he gestured me to eat it. “A taco.”

  “Taco?”

  “Try it. Trust me.”

  I bit in and moaned.

  “Hmm. I’m a little jealous. Should be me making you sound like that.”

  My cheeks heated as I chewed the salty, spicy, tangy, crunchy—cheesy! It was heaven. Cheese! I hadn’t had it since they outlawed dairy farms years ago. Later. Whenever. I was maybe five when Aunt Helen had last splurged on a package of sliced cheese.

  “If you think this is nirvana with nature.” He smiled and glanced at the clouds above. “I should take you back before the Gold Rush. Some places out west…” Shaking his head, he sighed. “Untouched land.”

  “Except for Natives?”

  “Who didn’t deforest the land and abuse it.”

  How…sad. That people couldn’t hold on to nature. From where I came from, cities were bare of greenery, except, like he said, the elite who could afford to flaunt their wealth and have private spots of land. Rural areas weren’t any better. More depressing, actually, either flooded or dried out.

  Instead of wallowing in the sadness of that loss, I peered at him, latching to his other words. “Could you?”

  “What?” he asked before he took another bite.

  “Take me there?”

  After setting his taco down, he leaned in close to kiss me just next to my ear. “I can take you anywhere you want,” he whispered.