The X Factor

by Bella Street

  Trent lowered the bottle. “Are you threatening Seffy?”

  Her slanted eyes widened. “I'm not threatening anyone.”

  “Well, here's one for you. I can snap your neck with one hand and no one would ever find your body by the time I was done with you.”

  She smiled. “This is why you and I can come to an agreement, Trent. We think alike.” She returned to the couch and sat down, crossing her legs. “I'm going to let you in on a little secret.” She leaned forward. “I'll admit that we've been dabbling in some time travel experimentation. Imagine our surprise when you all showed up from the future.”

  Trent sat down in the chair and took another drink of orange juice, struggling to keep the stunned look off his face. This ought to be good.

  “We actually had a goal but it unfortunately misfired.”

  “Gee, I'm sorry about that, too.”

  “You see, there are some medical needs in this compound that require technology beyond what is available to us, beyond what's available in our time. We were hoping, that by targeting the Cedars-Sinai hospital area in Los Angeles that we might actually have picked up a doctor or two. Of course our first try was just supposed to be a dry run. We didn't actually think it would work.”

  “You probably should've chosen the Mayo Clinic or some place like that not located in West Hollywood.”

  “We chose Cedars-Sinai for specific reasons, I assure you.”

  Trent stared at her. “So you have time travel technology but not the medical kind?”

  “I wouldn't call the theories we've been working with 'technology'. We ran an experiment to gather information on parameters and ended up finding eight people in the desert.”

  “Nine.”

  “Whatever.” She pierced him with a pointed look. “Something had to happen at the exact moment to make the time travel possible. And we don't have a clue what that something was. So until we can figure it out, you're stuck here.”

  “And even if you figure it out, you have no idea if you can reverse the process and send us back.”

  She fiddled with her necklace, something with a pink, sparkly pendant. “Exactly.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “So what's the leverage, Fiona? What do you want?”

  “I need to guarantee that you never talk about what you saw, or about what I'm telling you right now.”

  “So we're back to threatening.”

  “I prefer your term of leverage.”

  “It goes both ways, you know. You touch Seffy, and all bets are off.”

  She firmed her lips. “I'm sure you understand my concerns. Do you have a better idea?”

  Trent studied the woman sitting across from him, wondering how such a dominating personality could fit into such a tiny frame. He took a deep breath, hoping he was doing the right thing. “What if I told you that the person you're threatening could help you more than you know?”

  “Seffy told me she was a receptionist,” Fiona said with a sneer.

  “She was a receptionist at a medical clinic connected with the hospital you mentioned. And I wouldn't be surprised if she has a lot of information tucked away in her brain. As a receptionist, she'd have access to just about everything.”

  Fiona sat up straighter, her eyes gleaming. “And how is our little patient doing?”

  “Still unconscious, not surprising since she's been subjected to unbelievable mental and physical stresses. But with high quality medical care, she could pull through.”

  “You have my personal guarantee that she'll get everything she needs.”

  “And yet here in 1980, a person's word just doesn't have the same value as it used to.”

  Fiona stood up. “You don't want to mess with me. I'll deny all knowledge of this conversation.”

  Trent didn't look up. “Keep your chemical cocktails away from my people.”

  “I had nothing to do with that. You remember us saying that there's another faction at work in the compound.”

  “Find it, and get rid of it.”

  “We're trying, Trent. We don't want them here any more than you do.”

  “And another thing. I want the others to have access to the entire compound.”

  She crossed her arms. “For what possible reason?”

  “They're bored. They don't have any contagion. Let them integrate with the residents. Put them to work, find out how their future knowledge could be used for your purposes. It's ridiculous to keep us penned up, waiting for you to figure out what you did right.”

  “I'll take it under advisement.” She headed for the door.

  Trent turned and watched her go. “You know, methadone treatment can be successful.”

  She stopped and looked at him, her eyes flashing. “Trust me, I've done the research. Only twenty percent make it through to the other side.”

  “Yeah, but for that twenty percent, it's everything.”

  She regarded him with an inscrutable look, then left the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  That night, Trent crawled into bed next to Seffy and gathered her into his arms. He had a feeling he needed her touch a lot more than she needed his. He toyed with her fingers and told her about the mundane parts of his day, about her friends—deciding to be polite and omit the part about her friends being losers. Olga had encouraged him to talk to her, so he did, but he felt a little silly. It would really help if she was looking him in the eye while he yammered on and on.

  Before he'd come in, Olga informed him that she'd been told the compound was flying in a first-rate neurologist for Seffy to rule out brain trauma. Olga had wondered aloud how that development had come about. Trent had just shrugged.

  He looked down at Seffy, wishing he knew what else he could do to help. He brushed her hair away from her cheek, reveling in the smoothness of her skin. It was warmer than usual. Was that a sign of improvement? He allowed his fingers to trail down her jaw and throat, then trace her collarbone. Trent tipped her chin up so she was facing him. “Where are you, Sef? It's time to come back.” He brushed his thumb across her chin. “It's time to wake up.”

  Her eyelids betrayed no REM movement, no flicker that she was aware of anything going on around her. Sighing, Trent tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes.

  ***

  Trent eased his eyes open, blinking sleepily in the dim room. It took him a moment to gather his wits and figure out where he was. He flexed his arm and realized there was someone on it. Trent looked down at Seffy and sighed. He ran his hand through her hair, wondering what it was that woke him up.

  He heard a sniffle. Trent caught his breath, unsure if he imagined the sound. Then he became aware of moisture on his chest through the opening of his shirt, running down his side. With his other hand, Trent touched the wetness and held up his hand for a look. Not blood, thank God. He eased back and angled his chin down for a look. His eyes widened when he realized Seffy was crying. Her breathing had accelerated and tears leaked from her closed eyes onto his chest.

  Trent swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. While he considered his options, she began to whimper.

  Oh, crap. With his free arm, Trent reached for the call button and pressed it. While he waited for Olga to show, he held his breath, becoming more worried when she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled.

  Moments later, Olga unlocked the door and slipped into the room.

  “What is it?” she whispered, pulling her robe over a long granny gown.

  “Look and listen,” he said in a low voice.

  The whimpering continued. Olga came for a closer look and obviously saw the tears. “Whatever you do, do not try to wake her up.”

  “I wasn't going to.”

  She took Seffy's wrist in a light grip and checked her pulse. “Her heartbeat's strong. I'd say this is a good sign.”

  “Why is she crying?”

  “After what she's been through, wouldn't you?”

  “So she's reliving the experience?”

  “I don't kn
ow. Just let her work through whatever it is she's working through. I think it means she's making her way back to us.”

  Seffy's breathing turned to gasps mixed with quiet sobs. Then she said Gareth's name.

  Trent looked at Olga. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Maybe she thinks you're Gareth.”

  “Well, I'm not.”

  “If she needs you to be, you better be.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Just go with it. We're talking about her mental stability right now.”

  “Maybe her mental state is too far gone if she has me mixed up with him.”

  “Are you going to continue whining and being selfish—?”

  “Fine,” he hissed. “I'll be Gareth.”

  Olga sighed. “Call me if she opens her eyes. I doubt it will come to that, but if she does, be whoever she needs you to be, got it?”

  He grimaced. “Got it.”

  She left the room, leaving Trent to deal with the idea of being supplanted yet again.

  Seffy continued clenching and unclenching his shirtfront for several moments, then abruptly stopped. He relaxed by increments, assuming she'd gone back to sleep, or wherever it was she went in Unconsciousland.

  Suddenly she pulled in a sharp breath. “Gareth?”

  Trent closed his eyes briefly, reminding himself that this was 'progress'. “I'm right here, Sef.”

  “Where were you?” Her voice was a ragged whisper. Her fingers twisted the fabric of his shirt. “I called and called and you didn't come.”

  Trent's arms broke out in goosebumps. God. He took a deep breath. “I looked everywhere for you. I'm so sorry I didn't hear you.”

  “I was lost.” She sniffled and Trent felt fresh moisture seeping through to his chest.

  He looked down at her and saw the way her eyes were squeezed tight. “But we found you. You're safe.”

  “Why didn't you come?”

  “I did come, sweetheart. I found you.”

  Her breathing sped up again and she panted for several minutes. “It's because I did something wrong, isn't it?”

  Trent hugged her closer. “No. You didn't do anything wrong.”

  “I'm sorry, Gareth. God, I'm so sorry.”

  Trent could only wonder what she was talking about. He knew there was something more between the two than childhood memories and mutual attraction. Obviously there were some dark secrets as well. The knowledge didn't help his attitude toward Gareth.

  Seffy seemed to relax a little. He hoped the worst was over. If this was her getting better, he didn't know if he could take it. She was quiet for about ten minutes. Trent's eyelids grew heavy.

  Suddenly she choked on a sob, making his eyes snap open.

  “Gareth?”

  “I'm right here.”

  “Forgive me.”

  The desperation in her plea tore at his heart. He pressed his cheek against her hair and hushed her.

  “I promise to do better. If I do, then will you find me when I'm lost?”

  Trent looked up at the ceiling blinking away his own tears. “Of course,” he rasped.

  “Say you forgive me. Please.”

  “I forgive you, Seffy.”

  ***

  Trent was unable to sleep the rest of the night, even after Seffy relaxed in his arms and fell into a deep sleep. As soon as he saw Olga coming into the room in the morning, he pulled away from Seffy and got out of bed.

  “What happened?” she asked in a low voice, looking all business.

  Trent shoved a hand through his hair. “Well, apparently she and Gareth have some issues.”

  Olga looked at him and he knew she could see right through him. “I don't know why you're surprised. Anyone can see they're crazy about each other.”

  He compressed his lips. “And you're telling me this why?”

  “Because you think time starts from the moment you saw her. Allow the girl to have some pre-Trent history.”

  He raised his hands. “I don't have a clue what you mean, and I don't want to.”

  “I'm saying you've played a big part in Seffy's life recently. Just know that it might not turn out the way you want.”

  He jammed his shirt into his waistband and smirked. “Invite me to the wedding, huh?” Then he headed for the door.

  Olga sighed and shook her head. “I'll see you tonight.”

  Trent grabbed the doorknob. “Actually, I think therapy time is over.”

  She stared at him as his meaning sunk in. “Don't do this, Trent.”

  “Hey, if she prefers some guy named Gareth, I happened to know of one right here in the compound. Isn't that a coincidence?” Before she could respond, he left. Trent strode past the guards and walked to his room, cursing under his breath.

  When he got there, he took the hottest shower he could stand, trying to burn away the twisted memories of the night.

  Afterward, Trent took a long walk around the compound outside, glad the guards no longer messed with him. He walked over to the fields and watched while the men harvested corn with huge combines. He watched until the neon pink sun shimmered along the Montana hills before sinking below the bluffs far on the horizon.

  When the breeze grew chilly, he turned and headed back to the compound with weary steps. His rumbling stomach led him to the cafeteria, where he found a few straggling diners. He chose a wrapped roast beef sandwich and ate it on the way to his room. With that need met, he entered his room tired, but not ready for sleep.

  With his hands on his hips, he stared at the wall where a window should've been. How had everything spun out of control? He wasn't sure which sucked more—finding himself almost thirty years in the past or the realization that Seffy was possibly more messed up from Gareth than from drugs.

  A knock sounded on his door. Trent turned to answer it. Addison stood on the other side.

  Her expression was slightly less sullen than usual. “I've been trying your door all afternoon. Thought you'd want to know that Seffy's awake.”

  Keeping his expression a careful blank, he said thanks and closed the door. His heart beat unnaturally loud in his ears. Had she asked for him? Did she want to see him?

  Trent went in the bathroom and washed his face with cool water. He was angry with himself for wanting to see her so badly. She didn't even like him. The only time they were ever together was because Gareth wasn't available. He was tired of being second fiddle. Hell, he didn't even want to be in the band.

  But while his head reverberated with every reason to stay in his room, his feet had other ideas. The halls were otherwise empty, which suited him just fine. He wasn't in the mood for socializing. When he saw her room, his damn pulse pounded harder. The idea of seeing Seffy with her eyes open made his stomach knot in anticipation. Did she know he'd been with her every night? Had she recognized his voice? His touch?

  Nodding to each of the guards who ignored his attempts to be civil, Trent approached the door and looked through the window, wondering what her reaction would be. What he saw instead was her arms around Gareth in a tearful embrace as he sat in the place Trent had slept for the past several nights. Her pale face was tired but animated as she touched his cheek. Gareth leaned forward and kissed her.

  Lucky for Trent, he got to be there to see it.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Well?”

  Seffy picked at the tape holding in the I.V in the back of her band, then examined her bruised and scabbed knuckles. Her nails were a mess and probably beyond the repair of any nail salon, were she to have the option of getting them fixed.

  Which she didn't.

  “Ms. Carter?”

  Seffy blew her hair out of her eyes and lowered her hands in resignation. “It was dark.”

  “And how did you feel about that?”

  “Like I said, safe at first. Then scared.”

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “No.”

  “Miss Carter, I've been asked to help, but I can't do that if you continu
e to refuse answering any questions.”

  “I'm sure you know that sometimes people hide when they're upset.”

  “Children, yes. Adults usually have other coping mechanisms.” He leaned closer. “I'm guessing you hid a lot as a child.”

  She stared at him for a moment, mentally daring him to see inside her mind. If he could, he wouldn't know what hit him. “There's a game called hide and seek. Ever heard of it?”

  “What were you hiding from when you weren't playing the game?”

  “You're the psychiatrist. You figure it out.”

  “Miss Carter, if I had a dollar every time someone said that to me, I'd be golfing in Fiji right now.”

  Seffy stared at Dr. Raymond. He seemed nice enough; fortyish, brown hair and blue eyes, but his verbal poking and prodding was nearly as upsetting as the Haz-Mat kind. He'd been brought in after the neurologist failed to find a physical reason for her craziness. “I'm refusing because I don't believe talking about it will help.”

  “There's proof that talking can bring healing.”

  Her lips lifted in a mocking smile. “You're familiar with the myth of Pandora's Box? You look too deep into my brain and all sorts of destructive things will come tumbling out, hurting me and my friends, and not doing a friggin' bit of good.”

  “Your full name is Persephone, right?”

  Seffy glared. How was it everyone around here knew that?

  “I'm guessing you have some understanding of Greek myths. Which means you probably know that at the bottom of Pandora's box was hope.”

  “I'm sure that would be comforting to all those ravaged by the aforementioned destruction.”

  “I understand it's difficult to revisit disturbing memories. But if you continue to repress, you could be in store for a backlash of—”

  “Look, I had a creepy vision or something, got scared, found a place to hide, got locked in. It was bad. Really bad. End of story.”

  He gave her a gentle smile and rose to his feet. “I'm sure you're exhausted. We'll try again another time.”

  Seffy watched him go and breathed a sigh of relief when she was alone again. She still hadn't figured out why the compound was attempting to be so solicitous, especially considering they were the root of the problem.