by Jewel E. Ann
Shoving the truck into drive, I ignore her. It’s going to take more than a bottle of hand sanitizer to fix this mess.
“Don’t worry about dinner either. I’ll grab something at home.”
I shoot her an incredulous look.
She snorts out a laugh. “I’m sorry.” She laughs some more. “It was the Zinfandel on an empty stomach. Do you want the ring back?”
There’s no way I’m acknowledging her until my balls are no longer sticky with vomit.
*
Swayze
The shower shuts off. I search for a nonchalant expression, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for Griffin to come out of the bathroom. I need a shower too, but I thought maybe he deserved to take one first. I’m nice like that.
“Your turn.” He eyes me with a hard-to-read expression as he drops his towel and snags a pair of red briefs from the dresser.
It never gets old. When we’re in our eighties, will I still lose all ability to speak when he drops his towel or will his body be too flaccid? Nothing more than loose skin. Will the dragon along his backside look eighty as well?
“Did you eat?”
My gaze snaps to his eyes. “Two pieces of toast.”
“Go shower. We can watch a movie if you want to.”
“Are you mad?”
Griffin pulls on a pair of sweatpants. “Nope.”
“Really?”
He picks the towel up off the floor and flips it over his shoulder. “It was the best fucking blowjob you’ve ever given me … until you vomited. There’s potential. We can work with that.”
My eyes narrow at him. “It was the wine.”
“I know. If we can figure out a way to get you that enthused about sucking my dick without first intoxicating you, then I think we’ll be onto something really special.”
I laugh. “Wow. That almost sounded like a speech about curing cancer or feeding the world, except the sucking my dick part. You should go into politics, Griff.”
He replies with a naughty grin.
After I shower and brush my teeth, I grab a blanket and cuddle up on the sofa next to him.
“ESPN is not a movie.”
“I was just waiting on you.” He clicks off the TV.
“No movie?”
Griffin angles his body toward me. “I don’t want you to be hypnotized. If you need to talk all this out with a therapist, fine. But I don’t want you to be hypnotized.”
“Griff, we don’t even know if it will work. If you could hear Dr. Albright, I think you’d—”
“Fine.” He rolls his lips between his teeth, eyes wide. “Let me hear this Dr. Albright. Let me go to your next appointment with you.”
“Really? You would do that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
I leap into his lap, throwing my arms around his neck. This is exactly what I need. If Griffin sees Dr. Albright with me, he’ll know I’m not crazy. He’ll see why it’s so important to do whatever it takes to put Doug Mann behind bars.
I’m not going to lose him after all. He will accept the part of me that’s Daisy, and we will be fine.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Good morning, Hunt family.” I breeze into the great room with a bakery box and a drink carrier with two high calorie over-sugared coffee drinks.
“Someone’s in a good mood.” Nate smirks.
“Yes, sir. I sure am.” I snatch his plain coffee out of his hand and replace it with my sweet one. “Extra caffeine, extra sugar. Your students will find you to be much more fun today.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “And by fun you mean passed out by mid-afternoon when I come crashing down from my sugar and caffeine high?”
“Exactly.” I smile while holding open the box of donuts.
“Vanilla cake donut with chocolate frosting and sprinkles, however did you know?” He takes the donut.
He knows darn well how I knew.
“Griffin agreed to go with me to see Dr. Albright.” I take a glazed donut and sit next to Morgan on the floor. She’s working the army crawl like a champ. “And if it goes well, I think I’m going to try hypnosis with her. Maybe we can uncover something from my memory that will help prove that Doug Mann is a killer.”
Nate sets his coffee and donut on the counter and presses his hands to the edge. “Has she explained any of the risks with you?”
“Yes. I know it could uncover memories that I don’t want in my head, like how I died as Daisy. But I’d rather have those memories to deal with than another murder on my conscience if or when he kills again. And …” I twist my lips to the side and tease Morgan with a teething toy.
“And you’re afraid you could be his next victim.” Concern etches into Nate’s forehead.
I nod.
“I have someone looking into the case again.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you being safe? Not going anywhere by yourself?”
I laugh. “Yes, Dad.”
“No.” He shakes his head several times. “Don’t call me that. It’s too weird.”
“Everything about us is too weird. I’ve been reading Dr. Albright’s book, the same one you have in your nightstand. There’s so much that nobody really knows about reincarnation and so many different opinions. The glitch kind of theory is interesting. Like our souls are hard drives that should be wiped clean before the next life, but sometimes not everything gets wiped from it, and there’s this random information that we bring forth with nothing to connect it to.”
Nate shrugs. “Maybe it’s not that meaningless. What if we all carry something to the next life? It’s possible we just don’t recognize it. Wouldn’t that be the purpose of the soul? Random knowledge. Déjà vu moments. Hidden talents. Oddly familiar faces. Think about it, had you not met me, do you think these memories of yours would be anything more than the occasional weird feeling of familiarity?”
A grin slides up my face. “You believe in fate.”
Nate sips his coffee and shrugs. “Why not? I don’t think everything is fate. I don’t want to believe you dying was fate. I don’t want to believe that Jenna dying was fate.”
“If not fate, then what?”
“Life. Circumstance. We navigate the earth by free will. Every day we have an opportunity to choose our own destiny. But some things are more. What if young Nate and Daisy knew each other in another life? A parallel universe? What if we’re destined or fated to find each other in every life?”
Morgan gets upset at her toys or maybe just too much time on the ground. I pick her up, focusing all of my attention on her because Nate’s words feel like ice tickling my spine. “Sounds like a fantasy book or movie.”
He squats next to me, kissing Morgan on the cheek while I take a slow, hopefully very inconspicuous, inhale of his spicy scent. “What if it’s an epic love story?” Nate’s gaze sweeps along my face, and I feel it everywhere because he’s inches from my lips.
“You don’t love me.” I choke on the words as they come out like a strangled whisper.
“I do love you.”
Dead. Dead. Dead.
No oxygen.
No words.
No pulse.
“Because I think I’ve always loved you, and I’m certain I always will.” He grins, leans in, and kisses the top of my head. “Breathe, Swayze. I’m not stealing you from your fiancé.” He grabs his bag and coffee. “I think a part of you will be mine to love in every life.”
It’s not until the door shuts behind him that I let my lungs have that sweet, refreshing oxygen.
The rest of the morning I play with a smiley, giggly baby. When Morgan goes down for a nap, I get a text from Nate. I glance at the camera. The timing is too perfect for it to be a coincidence.
Professor: I didn’t mean to scare you this morning
Me: You didn’t
I lie.
Professor: I meant that I love you like family. Like someone special in my life. Nothing more.
Is he lying? And if not, how do I res
pond? I love you too?
Me: I get it. You remember me differently than I remember you.
I roll my eyes at my stupid comment.
Me: You have the feelings. I just have memories.
Me: Not that I don’t have any feelings for you.
“No … not that.” I cringe.
Me: I think you’re a nice guy.
Yeah, that’s not it either. I don’t look at the camera, he’ll see my nervous embarrassment.
Professor: Good thing I’m not asking you out on a date. The ‘nice guy’ comment might sting with rejection.
Looking at his response, I hide my grin behind Morgan’s head on my chest.
Me: I have a hard time believing any woman has ever rejected you.
Professor: This girl I knew many years ago rejected me quite often. But I was persistent.
“You’re not playing fairly,” I murmur while typing my reply.
Me: I can’t say for sure, since I got an F in flirting as a teenager, but from observing well-adjusted girls around me, my guess is the girl you knew was playing hard to get. IDK
Professor: You got an F in flirting?
Me: Don’t you have a job to do?
Professor: When are you seeing Dr. Albright again?
Me: Tomorrow night. Why? Are you going to eavesdrop outside of her door?
Professor: Lol if I can get my parents to watch Morgan, I just might.
Me: Off topic … are Daisy’s parents still alive?
Professor: Yes
Me: Do you think if I met Daisy’s parents that it would trigger more memories? I mean, they’re the people she saw every day for fifteen years.
Professor: Do you want to meet them?
Yes. No. I’m not sure. There’s a mix of fear, intrigue, and excitement swirling in my stomach. If I concentrate on Daisy and let that part of me bleed to the surface, then I absolutely want to meet her parents. I want to see her room, crawl in her bed. Riffle through her dresser drawers. Dear God, I hope they don’t really still have all of her—my—stuff twenty-two years after saying a final goodbye.
Me: I think I do.
Professor: I’ll arrange it.
Me: What does that mean? You’re not going to say anything about me, are you? How will you explain me—us.
Professor: I’ll think of something. I’m incredibly smart like that.
Me: Gagging.
Professor: Work calls. Give Morgan a kiss from me.
I tip my chin and kiss the top of her head and wink at the camera in the corner.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Thank you.”
Griffin squeezes my hand. “Stop thanking me.”
I knock on the door to Dr. Albright’s office.
“Come in.”
“But seriously …” Before opening her door, I face him. “Thank you for coming with me. You could be with a million other normal women with normal names, but you’re choosing me, even though marrying me is only going to change my last name. And for the rest of my life I may have to deal with freeloading spirits from past lives. Yet…” I grin “…you’re still here.”
“If you keep talking like that, you might convince me to turn and run. Stop while you’re ahead, Swayz.”
Lifting onto my toes, I press my lips to his. He kisses me back, just enough to impart his spearmint taste to the tip of my tongue. Griffin is yummy in every sense of the word.
“Hi, Dr. Albright.” I slip off my jacket. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Griffin Calloway.”
She meets us halfway and shakes his hand. “Very nice to meet you, Griffin. Please have a seat. Can I offer either one of you water or tea?”
“Tea would be lovely.”
I raise an eyebrow at Griffin. He smirks.
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him say the word lovely.
“Swayze?”
“Yes, I think I’ll have some tea as well. Thank you.”
“Did you both have a nice Thanksgiving?”
With a smile, I glance at Griffin. It was our first Thanksgiving together. And it was perfect. Scott and Sherri invited my mom as well as my grandparents to dinner.
No talk of Nate or past lives.
Lots of wedding talk. Good food. Laughter. And family.
Griff winks at me. He’s thinking of the long weekend we spent in bed. Yeah, that was pretty spectacular too. A rewind button on life would be nice. I’d replay those four days over and over again.
“It was lovely.” I borrow Griffin’s word. “How about you? Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”
“I did. It took a bit to find a few living friends, but I scrounged three and we had quite the time.”
Griffin and I chuckle.
She serves us tea and takes a seat behind her desk. An easy smile settles on her face. “When Swayze emailed me, I was very happy to hear that you would be joining us, Griffin.”
He answers with an easy nod just before taking a sip of his tea.
“So you’re thinking about trying hypnosis?”
“Yes. I just wanted to bring Griffin in case he had any questions. I tried to explain it to him as best as I could, but I’m not the expert on it.”
“Ah, then I assume Swayze discussed the possible benefits as well as the risks?”
“Can I be frank?” Griffin asks.
“Please,” Dr. Albright continues to smile.
I draw in a slow breath and hold it. What does he need to be frank about?
“I’m not one hundred percent buying into the reincarnation thing. The only reason I’m even considering it as a possibility is because I can’t really give a better explanation. Do you honestly believe Swayze is this Morgan Daisy Gallagher reincarnated?”
“It’s perfectly normal to question it, the same way people question God or all the beliefs about how we originated and where we go beyond this life. So all I can offer you is my opinion. And my opinion, both professional and personal, is that Swayze’s soul and part of Daisy’s soul share space in the beautiful body sitting next to you. I believe we are fabrics of many lifetimes.”
Yeah, that doesn’t sound crazy at all. I can’t see past the stoic expression on his face to determine if he finds the “beautiful body” sitting next to him to be as much of a magical unicorn as what Dr. Albright tries to lead him to believe.
I rest my white hoof on his hand and wag my long tail, sending a rainbow of glitter in all directions.
“So let’s pretend you’re right.”
My lips press into a firm line, and I talk my eyes out of rolling in disbelief.
This woman is highly educated, incredibly wise from years of living, and the picture of a sage. Yet, Griffin only wants to pretend she’s right. This isn’t going as smoothly as I’d hoped.
“Won’t digging up old memories, like death, be pretty traumatic? She’s twenty-two. Is it smart to risk that kind of psychological trauma?”
“It is a risk. That’s why I want Swayze to really think this over before making a decision. She could remember things she saw, but she could also relive the feelings.”
“But that’s just it,” I interrupt. “It’s driving me crazy to have these images but no feelings or emotions attached to them.”
Griffin turns to me. “So you want to remember what it felt like to die? Or worse … to be murdered?”
“No. But I’d rather remember the feelings than let another woman actually die at his hands. And it’s not just that. There were good times too. I hate seeing them in my head but not feeling them like Daisy did. This familiarity keeps clawing its way to the surface of my conscience like it wants to be felt. Like it needs to be felt.”
He scoffs, shaking his head while looking away from me. “Good times? You mean Nate.” He says his name with such contempt. “You want to remember how you felt about him?”
I glance up at Dr. Albright, but she doesn’t look like she’s ready to jump in the pool and save me from drowning.
“Not in the way you think, Griff.”
Griffin
gives Dr. Albright his attention. “Please tell me you don’t condone this. We’re engaged. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, but I don’t want to compete with another man for her feelings.”
She returns a concentrated nod. “Swayze, can you elaborate on the kind of feelings you want to remember. If they’re not romantic feelings, then maybe you can set Griffin’s mind at ease a little bit.”
The muscle twitching in Griffin’s jaw says I won’t be easing his mind anytime soon, but I try anyway.
“We were young. And before there were any feelings of love, we were friends. Sometimes I think the reason this other life moved forward with some memories intact is because I’m here to do something for Nate.” I’m not saying this right.
Griffin’s expression goes from irritated to murderous.
I hold up a flat hand to keep him from losing it. “He feels responsible for Daisy’s death. And her murderer is still killing. And a baby lost her mom. The timing is too coincidental. I think I have these memories to deal with Doug Mann, and take care of Morgan, and let Nate know that it wasn’t his fault. His wife died. When I first saw him at Dr. Greyson’s office, I could tell he was hanging by a thread.”
With his thumb and middle finger, Griffin massages his temples.
“If I may make a suggestion…” Dr. Albright folds her arms on the edge of her desk “…think about you first, Swayze. What you want. What you need. What you’re really willing to risk. Try to ignore any sense of debt to anyone else or the fear of guilt over Doug Mann. What is the one thing you really need from this?”
I don’t have one need. I have a million undefinable needs. My need doesn’t have a word. It’s a feeling. A nagging, soul-deep feeling. And maybe I’m the only one who can understand it, but something tells me Dr. Albright does too, even if she won’t say it aloud in front of Griffin.
So I go with the one thing that should make sense. “I need to feel safe.”
He grunts a laugh while shaking his head more. “I told you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t make that promise!” I cringe.
Dr. Albright’s sympathetic gaze lands on me.
I release a slow breath of regret. “You have a job. I have a job. We can’t be attached at the hip for the rest of our lives.”
