by Nia Arthurs
Morgan dips his chin.
“Wow.” McCarthy studies me. “Wow.” Then he pauses. “Is no one else blown away by this?” He glances at the other two men and frowns. “I guess not, since you’ve both interacted with people from Earth 2.”
“You have?” I ask Pavel.
His deep voice rumbles in the air. “There was a boy once.”
“He crossed back and forth?”
“Often.”
Excitement stirs in my stomach. The possibility of me getting out of here gets better every day. Maybe, when I’m far from Morgan, when I’m back in my old life, these confusing feelings will go away.
At least, I can hope.
“Is this the doorway?” I ask as my gaze moves to a large mechanical structure. It’s made of metal and stands way over Pavel’s head. Tons of wires wrap around the legs and over the top.
“Yes.” McCarthy crosses to it with a proud smile. “We managed to replicate the pressure from the alignment. It trigged a portal between the dimensions.” He bats his dreads away from his face. “It sounds complicated, but it was ten times more difficult than you’d think—”
“You must miss home,” Pavel says, watching me with his dark, soulful eyes.
I shrug. Nod. What else can I say?
I miss a lot of things.
No confusion about a certain handsome scientist for one.
Pavel crosses the room and takes my hand. The gentleness in his expression makes me tear up. “We will get you back,” he promises.
Oh gosh. I’m about to ugly cry. Holding it in with all my might, I ask Morgan. “Can I use the bathroom?”
“I’ll take you.” McCarthy offers.
I nod my thanks.
McCarthy leads me out of the garage and into the house. “Did Morgan run any tests on you?”
“Not yet.”
McCarthy laughs. “That’s unlike him. Usually, he would have gone straight to the facts. Run it by the numbers.”
“He said I was normal.”
“Extraordinary.” McCarthy surveys me one last time before pointing down a long hall. “Bathroom’s that way.”
As soon as I’m safely in the bathroom, I hunker down in front of the sink and stare at my reflection. A woman with dark brown skin, short curls and big brown eyes stares back at me.
I point a finger in her face. “Morgan is off limits.”
My reflection only blinks.
“He is your friend and he is your ticket home. You will not mess this up.”
No response.
Of course.
I inhale deeply.
Home.
It’s so close.
For three weeks, I lived every day barely hoping that I’d get out of this world.
Now I see the end.
Soon, this will all be over and everything will be right again.
10
Conroy
“We found her,” Roderick steps into my chambers with a hot cup of tea and a laptop. “She’s on another earth.”
“Show me.”
He sets the laptop on the bed. Presses a button.
A low-quality video pops up.
There’s a sink and a large mirror. Golden lights shimmer from above. Spotlight a woman I recognize even with the poor quality of the film.
Her thick black curls fall against soft, rounded cheeks. Plump lips part as she shakes her head and lifts them up to the mirror. It’s like she’s staring straight at me.
A jolt of pleasure hits my system. I reach out and gently touch the computer screen, pretending it’s her dark cheek I’m caressing.
“Why can’t I hear her?” I growl.
“They’re working on that.”
“Tell them to work faster.”
“The technology they need is incredibly advanced and what’s available hasn’t been created to—”
I snatch the knife I keep on the edge of my nightstand and hurl it at him. It cuts his cheek and then sinks into the wooden column behind his head. Anger winds around my limbs and causes a slight tremble.
Roderick dips his head. “I’ll relay the message.”
“Send them a blank check.”
“Yes, sir.” Roderick glances at the screen as he casually dabs at the blood dribbling down his cheek. “You’re investing a lot into this research. How are you so sure she’ll want you if you succeed?”
It’s a stupid question so I ignore it. “Let’s go to the lab. I want a clearer picture than this.”
I tear my shirt off. Tossing it on the bed, I grab a fresh one and slip it on. My fingers can barely get the buttons into the right holes.
I haven’t felt this much nerves since my very first kill. It was a long time ago. My father took me to the woods and taught me the difference between predators and prey.
“Conroy, in this world and the next, you’re either the hunter or the hunted. The hunter has all the power. It is his duty to kill the prey. Would you rather be the one getting torn apart or the one doing the damage?”
After, he helped me kill for the first time.
I cried as the animal shook between my hands. At seven, the woodland creatures still held a magical quality to me.
I was the weak, sentimental type. I took after my mother and it was obvious that my father had no patience for it, so he beat the prey-ness out of me until I became the lion that I am today.
I owe everything I have and am to my father. And, at the end, I was right by his side to drive the knife into his chest and establish myself as the predator above all others.
Roderick calls the driver. I get into the black SUV and play the loop of Kaz smiling at the mirror over and over again. My fingers rasp against her cheek, longing for the day I get to touch her flesh rather than cold glass.
Soon. Very soon.
11
Morgan
Pavel frowns at me. “You fought with her?”
“We had a,” I lean against the wall, “slight disagreement.”
“She’s overwhelmed.”
I think about how Kaz went off in the car. “She’s stronger than she looks.”
“Her eyes are tired.”
“Everyone is tired.” I stride in his direction. “And how could you make such a flat-out promise when there are so many variables to consider? It was hard enough getting me through the doorway and now we’re out of parts to power it.”
“We’ll figure it out. Isn’t that what you always say?”
I do always say that. “Yes, but—”
“You’ve been totally confident up until this point. What changed?”
“Nothing. I just… what if we fail? Then we’ve built up her expectations only to disappoint her.”
“Is there a reason you don’t want to disappoint Kaz?” Pavel stares at me with eyes that can see through to my soul.
I clear my throat. Glance around the garage.
We’ve kept it moderately clean, though McCarthy has his junk piled up in a corner. I have to remember to move his things. Tidy this place up.
Pavel’s smile is hard and firm. “Kaz is my second chance. I won’t let anything stand in the way of getting her home. I won’t fail.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Keep your head in the game.”
“It is.”
“You’re important to this project, Morgan.”
“Your point, Pavel?”
“I need your help on this. Things cannot become confusing.” He shrugs. “I’m just making that clear.”
“I’m not confused.”
“It seems…”
“What?”
He shakes his head.
I fold my arms over my chest. “I don’t plan to keep her here. Trust me, I want her back where she belongs as much as you do.”
“Good.”
I clear my throat. “By the way…”
Pavel arches a bushy, black eyebrow.
“Did you feel anything when you shook her hand earlier?”
“Like what?”
> I glance at the ceiling. Struggle to push the words out for fear of what it will uncover.
Did you feel anything when you touched her? It’s a simple enough question. An experiment, really. Science is all about alienating variables to identify phenomena. But the repercussions of this particular test make me hesitate.
Pavel waits me out.
“Electricity?” I glance away. “Did you notice anything like that?”
He strokes his beard. “No. Did you?”
I move to the computers. “Must have been a fluke.”
“Should we get her tested?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.” His voice heightens with concern. “Her life could be in danger—”
“She’s been here for three weeks. If there were negative effects, they would have shown themselves by now.”
“What’s your explanation then?” he challenges.
“Maybe I’m the problem.” I grab a rag and absently wipe the table down. “We tore open time and space to get to another dimension. We messed with something we don’t understand.”
“There’s a simpler explanation for why you feel electricity when you touch her, you know,” Pavel says, his gaze burning into me.
“Yeah? Like what?”
Before he can answer, Kaz and McCarthy return to the garage.
I look Kaz over. There are food stains on her uniform. Exhaustion in her step. She’s smiling politely at McCarthy as he talks her ear off about the multiverse theory, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Pavel’s right.
She does look tired.
I get her attention. “You ready to head back home?”
“It’s been a long day,” Kaz says quietly. “As excited as I am about what you guys are doing, I really can’t keep up tonight.”
“Just let me get my keys,” I say. As I move forward, Pavel slams his hand out and bars my way.
My eyes whip up.
“I’ll take her,” he informs me.
I shake my head. “She’s my responsibility.”
“Now that you’ve introduced her to us, she’s all of our responsibility.”
“Still, I should—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get her home safely.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Pavel…”
“It’s fine,” Kaz yawns. “I can just catch the bus. I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“It’s no trouble,” Pavel assures her.
I sigh. Back off. “Fine.”
Pavel slaps my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Clenching my jaw, I glance away.
Kaz sends me a hesitant smile. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
I nod.
“It was nice meeting you, Kaz.” McCarthy waves. “I look forward to hearing more about that world of yours. Maybe over coffee?”
“I’d love that.”
“Awesome.”
“Come on.” Pavel walks over to her and escorts her from the room.
McCarthy joins me by the computers. “Everything okay between you two?”
“Me and Kaz?”
“You and Pavel.”
“Yeah.” I run a hand down my face and suck in a breath. “He was just concerned.”
“About?”
“Nothing.”
“Pavel doesn’t seem the type to worry for no reason. You sure that’s all it is?”
I face him. “You heading out now too?”
He nods. “The wife is making curry chicken. Caribbean style. You want to join?”
“I’m good.”
McCarthy tosses his keys and catches them. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He laughs good-naturedly. “When you’re a prodigy, you can make your own hours.”
“Just admit you miss me and I’ll head back to the office.”
“Oh no. I’m glad to be the boss for once.” McCarthy smirks. “Good night.”
I lock up the garage after he leaves.
My keys clack against the wooden table as I step inside my house.
It’s too quiet.
Too cold.
Too empty.
Way too empty.
I tug at the collar of my shirt. Let out a sigh. Allow my thoughts to flow back to a time when this place felt like home.
The carefully selected floral paintings, the funky pillows on the worn, vintage couch and the ugly rug are all hers. I should have reorganized the place after she left. Brought home a leather couch that fits my style and gotten rid of the pillows. And that nasty rug.
That needs to go.
But I haven’t gotten around to it. Couldn’t bring myself to.
If she ever—
No. I’m not going there. Not tonight.
It’s just a couch.
Just some stupid pillows.
I fall into the sofa and turn the TV to a mindless documentary, but my mind is a thousand miles away.
The nights are the hardest. I can’t keep myself distracted when it’s just me and my memories. Sometimes, I can still hear her laughter echoing. Her lilting voice begging me to change the channel. “Nature documentaries are so bo-ring. Let’s watch a movie.”
She’d always put on one of those dance flicks.
Step Up was her favorite.
The one with Channing Tatum—
Damn.
I’m doing it again.
I turn the television louder to drown her out.
After the special, I cook myself Ramen noodles. Eat around the counter with a pile of research books as company. Take a shower. Head to bed.
It’s normal.
A routine I can handle.
But my illusion of contentment shatters when I enter the bedroom.
Let me go, Morgan.
It echoes through my head. She’s right there. In our bed. Only the sheets were a soft shade of blue—her favorite.
My eyelids squeeze shut. I can see her, hugging the fluffy white pillow closer to her chest. Pushing her sharp chin into it.
My stomach tightens.
The air gets hot.
It’s irritating—I’m wearing nothing but a towel, water’s still dripping down my back and the air conditioning is cold enough to freeze my chest hairs.
Let me go, Morgan.
Yeah, I tried. She’s still inhabiting my headspace. Robbing every waking moment of peace, of forward momentum. It’s like I’m stuck here. Like I’m one of her paintings frozen in time on the wall.
My phone rings. I jump to answer it, glad to be free of my own insanity—at least for a moment.
“Hello.”
“I honestly didn’t expect you to pick up.”
“Kaz.”
“Hi.” Her voice is soft. Sweet. It immediately calms the storm in my head. Brings her squeal of laughter to mind. The expression on her face as she rode the rollercoaster. The way her tiny body fit against mine.
“Kaz.”
My stomach relaxes.
My chest gets light.
I fall into bed.
“Pavel gave me your number in case of an emergency.”
“Is there an emergency?” I straighten.
“No.”
I press my back against the headboard. “Then why did you call?”
“To apologize for snapping at you tonight.”
I chuckle. “No need. Your version of furious was still rather tame.”
“The attitude was unnecessary.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No. It’s me. I don’t know. I’m normally not that impatient with people.”
“Are you saying I bring out the worst in you?” I tease.
“Maybe.” She chuckles.
Her laughter undoes the chaos. Sends me straight to a place that feels quiet. And right.
I smile. “We’re just…”
“Different,” she supplies.
“Very.”
“But that’s not bad.”
&nb
sp; I close my eyes and savor her voice. “No.”
“You’re right too,” she whispers. “If you hadn’t found me, I would have been stuck here.” Kaz pauses. “I’m really glad I met you, Morgan.”
Her words curl up in my soul.
Fill me in a place I thought would be dark and empty forever.
“Well… that’s it. Goodnight.”
I want to speak to her longer. I want to beg her to just breathe. To just let me hear her voice for a moment more.
But I don’t say that.
I let her go. “Goodnight, Kaz.”
Click.
I stare at the ceiling as warmth rushes over me. Curving a hand over my head, I close my eyes. In the stillness, Pavel’s voice crawls into my head. “Is there a reason you don’t want to disappoint her?”
I stiffen.
Something dark smothers my chest.
Let me go, Morgan.
Sharp pain slices my stomach.
I roll over and grab my sleeping pills.
My fingers tremble as I knock them back.
This time, when I lie down, all warmth is gone.
12
Kaz
“Mr. Hottie’s back,” Ashley murmurs to me on my shift a few days later. Her blonde eyebrows arch as she ogles someone from the doorway of the kitchen.
“Who?” I skate to a stop and glance over my shoulder.
Morgan is just walking through the door.
My breath hitches.
So does everyone else’s.
I can feel it.
Their admiration.
Their respect.
His entrance causes an immediate shift in the air.
It’s electric.
Magnetic.
Intense.
Morgan’s silent appraisal of the diner pauses several conversations. Through it all, his expression remains slightly bored, as if he’s oblivious to the adoration rippling out in waves around him.
Green eyes drop to his phone. Pale thumbs flit on the screen.
He’s wearing a grey T-shirt that hugs his shoulders. Jeans, cut off at his thighs, show off lean legs. His hair is a little more casual today. Wavier. Messy. It makes him seem more approachable, guy next door and less scary, stoic scientist.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I fish it out.