Chasing Time

by Elena Lawson

  Instead of saying all that to Jasper, who would no doubt think I was insane, I settled for whispering, “I don’t know. I have no idea who I’m looking for. Not anymore.”

  We were both silent for another long moment, the silence broken apart by the intermittent slosh of water against the tub.

  Finally, Jasper broke it, turning his face slightly to meet my eyes. “I know you want to know what happened to my face. Why I wear a mask.”

  I wanted to rebuke his claim, deny it, but…but he was right. I did want to know. The question burned a hole in my stomach.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I assured him quickly. My curiosity could wait until he felt more comfortable with me.

  Before I had even finished speaking, Jasper was already shaking his head.

  “I already saw you naked. Might as well confess the rest of my story.” His lips twitched, but I felt the smile was more sardonic than genuine. He took a deep breath, and slowly, with the same care he had removed my dress, grabbed the bottom of his mask. With one flick of his wrist, his mask was discarded. “I want to tell you everything about me,” he admitted. “Just…just don’t run, okay?”

  Chapter 25

  JASPER

  The image of her naked body was burned into my retinas. I knew it would be impossible to purge that visual from my mind, erase it from existence.

  Not that I wanted to.

  I would never admit it to anyone, but I planned to hold on to that image for the rest of my life.

  Her silky, porcelain skin. Tapered waist leading down to surprisingly thick hips. Child-bearing hips, my mother would say. Luscious breasts, plump and easily a handful, with pink nipples begging for attention. A noticeable absence of hair leading down to her slicked…

  My cock hardened, even knowing what I was going to show her.

  I knew she would run—they always ran—but maybe, just maybe, she would listen.

  My heart racing, pounding, breaking, I reached for the bottom edge of my mask. The silver was cold beneath my fingers. Biting. I didn’t know if my wince had to do with the feel of the mask or Beck’s inevitable reaction.

  I discarded it quickly, watching it clatter to the ground.

  “I want to tell you everything about me,” I admitted in a rare moment of vulnerability. I wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not me. I was the responsible one, the leader, the rule follower.

  But everything flew out the window when she turned those soulful eyes onto me. I forgot how to breathe. Every carefully crafted rule I imposed on myself vanished into thin air. She lit up a darkness in my heart I hadn’t even realized existed.

  Holding my breath, I turned to meet her gaze.

  I knew what she would see. It was the same thing I saw thousands of times in the mirror during those brief seconds before my mask covered it.

  The skin was both pink and white, smooth in some areas and jagged in others. Blotchy patches of bright red were woven throughout the tapestry that was my face. My eyelid had been burned off, and my nose was disfigured. Sunken, almost. One half of my lips were curled down in a never-ending frown. The burns covered the expanse of my forehead and down one side of my face. From there, they disappeared into my shirt collar. The body beneath the clothes was just as blemished.

  Monster.

  Beast.

  Hideous.

  Ugly.

  Those words had been hurled at me more times than I cared to admit. Friends, families, lovers. It didn’t matter. The second they saw my face, my body, they screamed and ran.

  I should’ve been grateful that I could still talk—unlike Ellis—and that both eyes still worked. That I still had portions of my face unblemished.

  But that gratefulness was buried beneath a tidal wave of anger and hurt. Unlike some who could hide their pasts behind coy smiles and charming words, I was forced to relive mine every day.

  And now, Beck was too.

  Her lips parted, a breath of air escaping. I prepared myself for the disgust, the pity, the anger for keeping it a secret. Instead, a soft smile graced her beautiful features and warmth emitted from her eyes. She reached a hand out as if to touch me, but immediately pulled it back, shoving it beneath the pink water.

  Of course, she wouldn’t want to touch me. I barely wanted to touch myself.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  Unable to continue meeting her probing gaze, I turned to face the wall. It was peeling with age and use, the color resembling cracked eggshells. It was a mundane, stupid thing to notice, but it was all I could focus on. All I dared to focus on. My hands fiddled with the hem of my shirt.

  “Um…it was during a witch hunt in my hometown, a hundred or so kilometers north.” I was anxious to relive this story, but I surprisingly wasn’t upset about her hearing it. I wanted her to know my origins, the good and the bad. I wanted her to see how this world had shaped me, molded me, made me into the man she sat with today.

  But each word was pulled from my throat. The stench of smoke and burnt flesh permeated the air.

  “I was accused of witchcraft,” I admitted at last. They had arrested over two dozen women and men, all accused, and yet only one had been an actual witch. The irony. “I was fourteen.” Dragging a hand through my hair, I debated how much detail I should give her. “They dragged me and my family from our house. Some of the accused were drowned. It was believed that if you were a witch, you had hollow bones and were able to float. Thus, if you floated, it proved you were a witch.”

  “And if you drowned?” Beck asked softly. She knew, as well as I did, that every one of those men and women drowned.

  “Then you were an unwarranted casualty.” My hands clenched as I thought about all the senseless deaths. The funerals. The mourning. Families had lost mothers, fathers, husbands, and wives. Sisters and brothers. Daughters and sons. If you didn’t have money to defend yourself, if you weren’t a part of the wealthy elites, you were accused and prosecuted.

  There was no escaping your fate.

  “And you?” she inquired; voice meek.

  “We were burned at the stake,” I answered sharply.

  The screams a cacophony in the night air.

  My mother and father begging to spare me and my sister, Ali. And my sister…

  I couldn’t breathe past the tightening in my lungs.

  “Hey.” Beck placed a tiny hand on my shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to keep talking if you don’t want to.”

  A hiccupping sob escaped me, and before I could rethink it, I pressed my head to her chest and cried. Her hand came up to stroke my hair as she whispered soothing condolences and promises. She comforted me as I fell apart in the bathroom, my tears seeping into her bare skin.

  She comforted me. Even after the night she had. The attack. The knowledge that humans weren’t alone in this world. This brave, generous soul had chosen to hold me in her arms and coddle me like a baby despite all of that.

  I want to court her.

  That realization settled heavily on my shoulders, but the weight was more comforting than damning.

  I wanted to court her, woo her, and then marry her.

  I could see myself loving a girl like her.

  For the longest time, I didn’t believe I would ever marry, and if I did marry, it wouldn’t be for love. It would either be a marriage of convenience or status.

  But Rebecca…

  She made my heart do things it had never done before. It was no longer the dead organ in my chest. It was alive and vibrant because she was alive and vibrant.

  If we were to wed, she wouldn’t have to go back to wherever she came from. She could stay with us, my family.

  The more I thought about it, the more it solidified in my mind. I could picture it now, my future with her.

  And I wanted it.

  I wanted it more than I ever wanted anything before. Someone who saw my flaws, saw beyond my mask, and still cared for me. Beck could be that person.

  I could see it now. Her
glorious smile lighting up every room she entered. Her laugh like music. No pain, no hurt, no judgment. Just us.

  What will the others think?

  I hadn’t been completely oblivious to my brothers’ feelings towards the stunning girl. I wasn’t even certain they had realized it yet. Everett saw her as something needing protection, Ellis believed her to be another one of his clocks in need of fixing, and Alex wanted someone to play with.

  But beneath those superficial reasons, I knew they saw what I did. Someone to keep Everett’s beast at bay. Someone to keep him grounded.

  Someone who understood Ellis and befriended him despite his flaws. Someone who wanted to care for him and be cared for in return.

  Someone who would get Alex’s head on straight. Someone who would laugh at his stupid jokes and make him laugh as well.

  Beck could be that person for all of them.

  Was I really willing to steal her away, covet her as my own, when I knew my brothers harbored feelings for her?

  I didn’t know the answer to that question, and I didn’t want to focus on it. Not yet. Right now, I had to focus on taking care of Beck, especially after everything she’d been through and was told.

  It suddenly occurred to me that my head was pressed against her bare breasts. I jumped, wrenching myself away from her in horror.

  Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, my pain her own. If she was offended by my behavior, she didn’t show it.

  “Let me see if I can find you a clean nightgown,” I said, jumping to my feet hastily.

  But I could still feel the press of her skin against mine. I didn't think any amount of running would help with that.

  “You can grab me one of your shirts and pants if you want to,” the strange girl offered, flashing me a timid smile. “It’s more comfortable to sleep in.”

  “Of course,” I said briskly. At this point, I would agree to just about anything in order to escape her perfect body and the emotions she evoked within me.

  I didn’t even bother questioning her weird choice in clothing attire. Everything about Rebecca was strange, I realized. I wondered if it was her American heritage.

  I hurried to my bedroom and grabbed a white dress shirt out of my dresser. It was a little long on me, reaching to the middle of my thighs, so I knew it would be a dress for her. I stepped inside the bathroom just in time to see Beck emerging.

  My tongue turned to cotton in my mouth, and my hands went clammy.

  Her wet body was glorious. Pure and utter perfection. I didn’t think she even realized how perfect she actually was.

  Perfect for me, that was.

  I watched her scrub at her arms and legs with one of our towels. Everett’s, I realized distantly. As she bent down, giving me an unrestricted view of her feminine parts, I cleared my throat to alert her to my presence.

  She jumped, startled, and spun around clutching the towel to her chest. A delicate blush spouted on her neck and cheeks, somehow demoting her from intimidating to approachable.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, flustered. “I didn’t realize you had come back.”

  Her embarrassment amused me. This was the same girl who blatantly dropped her towel, revealing herself to me. Who insisted I should stay. Me, an unwed man who was obviously attracted to her.

  How many layers did Beck have? I felt I had only started peeling back the top one. I could study her for hours and never tire. Everything about Beck amazed me, enticed me. She was my favorite book in the library just waiting to be read again and again. A book so cherished and loved it never collected dust, each page flipped reverently.

  “Here. This might be a little big…”

  “It’s perfect,” she said, turning her back to me to change. She slipped the shirt on and buttoned it up, head dipped. The white shirt stopped near her knees, the sleeves having to be rolled up numerous times so she wasn’t drowning in it.

  Something about seeing her in my clothes sent male satisfaction and smugness roaring through me. I felt like an animal marking her with my scent.

  “I couldn’t find pants that would be comfortable,” I said, stopping myself from tagging on “miss” or “madam” at the end. We were past those simple pleasantries. I had bared myself to her, shared my story, and she had started to do the same with me. Somewhere along the way, we had gone from mere acquaintances to something else, something more. Friends? It felt like more than that, but I didn’t dare voice what I felt out loud.

  “This works,” she assured me, sliding a hand through her wet, tangled hair.

  “Here, let me.” I gestured for her to spin around, and she did so without hesitation. The trust she gifted me made my heart pump erratically.

  It was trust I would have to earn.

  Grabbing a hairbrush off the counter, I worked on untangling her thick hair. It was a surprisingly difficult task—the brush snagging on a snarl more than once—but soon, her hair was as smooth as silk.

  I replaced the brush with my fingers, starting at her scalp and pulling them through the tresses. A low moan escaped her parted lips.

  Feeling empowered, I did it once more, scraping my fingernails against her scalp in the process.

  “Does that feel good?” I whispered hoarsely. The sounds she was making filled me with a carnal, almost primal, hunger. I wanted to hear those moans and groans for the rest of my life.

  “Very,” she replied.

  Dropping my hands to her shoulders, I gave them a squeeze.

  “Come. We should go talk to the others. They’re worried about you.” I spun her around to face me.

  Her teeth were anxiously nibbling on her lower lip, and her eyes flickered from my chest to my shoes and then to the wall. She wouldn’t quite meet my eyes.

  “What are we doing?” she asked softly.

  “What do you mean?” I trailed a hand down her arm until I was able to interlock my fingers with hers. My heart skipped a beat when she didn’t immediately pull away, didn’t immediately run.

  “I mean, you and me. Me and Ellis. Me and Alex. Me and Everett. What are we doing?”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead I settled for my own truth.

  “Me and you? I don’t know what we’re doing, and I don’t care.” The confession felt strange leaving my mouth. They felt like the words of someone else, anyone else. Someone more confident than me.

  She smiled at me softly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her hand squeezed mine.

  It was only as we stepped onto the staircase, following the raised voices of my brothers in the kitchen, that I realized I had yet to put my mask back on.

  Chapter 26

  BECK

  They were waiting for us in the parlor. All of them standing sort of awkwardly around the room. Alex with his head bent. Ellis with his hands tucked deep into his pockets. Everett was still clenching his fists—the skin over his knuckles stretched tight and blanched.

  Their gazes landed first on me, but then traveled to Jasper with looks alternating between astonishment and inquisitiveness. I wondered how often he removed his mask. Surely, they’d all seen what lay beneath. I supposed they were wondering why he deigned to show me. I was still wondering that, too. Some random girl he found in the Thames that’s caused nothing but trouble since she arrived.

  Why give someone like that the honor of knowing your face? Of learning your deepest secrets? I didn’t think I was worth all that.

  “Hi,” I said in a small voice when none of them ventured to say anything first.

  “Are ye alright, lass?” Alex asked, coming forward to take my arm from Jasper’s and lead me to the settee in front of a roaring fire.

  Jasper turned away, saying something under his breath that sounded like I’ll make some tea, but he started back up the stairs instead, and I wondered if he was going to put his mask back on. I wished he wouldn’t. He shouldn’t have to hide in his own home.

  “Lass?” Alex prodded again as I sat down mechanically, kneading my hands in my lap.

/>   “Hmmm?” I said, still a bit dazed. What had he asked? If I was alright?

  Was I?

  I was still shaken, that much was for sure. I had my hands clasped together to smother the tremble there so that they wouldn’t notice it. And the adrenaline crash pumping fog into my brain and lead into my bones only served to remind me what almost happened out there in the woods.

  Almost, I reminded myself.

  It didn’t happen.

  I got away.

  The guys saved me.

  “I think so,” I finally answered him, looking up into his blue-green eyes—admiring the flecks of gold brought out by the light of the fire I found around his pupils. So beautiful. Exotic.

  No one should be allowed to have eyes like that. They were a lure—drawing me in. But I was afraid that if I let him, I’d find myself caught. Pulled down into the deep ocean of him, hook, line, and sinker. I’d drown.

  And I’d enjoy it.

  My mouth was suddenly dry, and when Jasper appeared a second later with a teacup and saucer, I took it gratefully, happy for the chance to look away from Alex.

  What were these guys doing to me?

  The tea was so hot it scalded my tongue and roof of my mouth, but I didn’t care. I needed to get rid of the horrid dry feeling. And the sweetness of the tea seemed to be helping with the trembling still persisting in my fingers.

  Everett and Ellis came to stand around the settee; Ellis pulled up a chair to the edge of it and sat down. He reached a hand over and set it over top of my hand in my lap—squeezing gently before he let go with a sad smile. The tiny gesture and his expression told me all that he couldn’t. He was sorry about what happened and so very glad that I’m alright.

  Even Everett was looking at me with an expression so unusual for him. For once he didn’t seem angry—or at least, not angry at me. He seemed…pained. And I couldn’t figure out why.