‘Rem. My name is Rem.’
‘Whatever. But you haven’t won. Even after that little romantic escapade, you haven’t won. Has he, Abbie?’
I raised my eyes to meet Lilly’s—Anne’s—unable to believe I’d never made the association before. But then, why should I? Neither girl meant anything to me.
‘Fuck off, Anne,’ Rem repeated, and I watched as Lilly’s mouth twisted, the rejection obviously painful.
‘You’ll be sorry,’ she hissed, then she turned on her heels and stalked away in a flurry of peroxide curls.
‘I’ll leave now,’ Rem said when we were alone again. ‘But I’ll come tonight. Wait for me.’
It wasn’t a question; it was a command. I didn’t reply, ignoring the brush of his lips against my cheek as he left.
Turning back to Georgina’s file, trying to decipher and read all the information on my cousins, I couldn’t focus. My heart was too frenetic and my mind too chaotic, so I tucked the information away, planning to take it home and read it in private.
Making my way to the front desk to begin my shift, I found Simone once more buzzing with excitement. I made a mental note to ask what she was on, because I wanted some of it. Needed it.
‘Abbie, you just missed him!’ she cried.
‘Who?’
‘My lovely new man,’ Simone explained.
‘What, did he stop by for a quickie behind the desk?’ I drawled, pleased to find my tongue and my sharp retorts again.
Simone glared at me. ‘Honestly, Abbie, one day you are going to go too far. But for your information, he is not that type of guy.’
‘They are all that type of guy!’
‘Not this one. He’s a gentleman.’
‘Wow, you must be in love,’ I drawled, ‘doling out sexual favours then saying he’s a gentleman.’
‘Abbie, that mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble one day,’ Simone warned.
I stuck out my tongue. ‘Just like yours, Simone! Although, maybe not as much as yours!’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Meredith was asleep on the couch when I arrived home from work. Tiptoeing past her, I made my way up to my room, then paused. A faint light drifted down from behind the attic door, which was slightly ajar. Curious, I went to investigate. The attic was my room; no one else ever went there.
Marcus.
He was sitting in my armchair, looking at a folder containing my drawings.
Drawings of him. And Rem. Heath and Sebastian.
‘What are you doing here?’ I accused, my skin prickling.
‘Meredith let me in.’ He looked up and I sucked in my breath at the sight of his face. He was pale and drawn, his eyes dark chocolate with flecks of amber flaring in them. I couldn’t decide if he looked hurt or angry.
Or both.
‘You’re going through my things.’
I held out my hand and he passed the folder to me. I glanced down at it. It was open to an image of Sebastian, Rem. How Penelope had seen him the night she went to him. His tousled hair, bare chest, desire and agony etched in every feature.
Oh god, what would Marcus think?
‘You and Rem.’ He swallowed hard, the movement slow and exaggerated in his throat. ‘There’s something going on between you, isn’t there?’
‘Yes. But it’s not what you think.’ My lips still stung with Rem’s kiss and the lie lodged itself in my throat.
‘You’re in love with him?’ Marcus asked, his face twisting.
I reached out and touched him, my hand resting ever so lightly on his arm. His skin was warm and soft, his blood pulsing beneath my fingers. He was so different to Rem and his coldness.
‘No. I’m not in love with him,’ I told him. I wanted to say I loved him, Marcus, but couldn’t bring myself to speak the words.
He nodded, looking around the attic.
The walls were covered in my pictures. Most of them were of Broadhurst—like Penelope, I’d drawn many scenes—but there were other pictures, too. Pictures of other times, other places.
‘You loved him before,’ he accused.
I shook my head. ‘No. I never did.’
‘Yes. I can tell by the way you’ve drawn him.’
‘No. I’ve just drawn what I remember,’ I said, desperate for him to understand. ‘I remember a lot, Marcus. A lot. Do you, maybe, remember something?’
His eyes widened.
‘What?’ I said. Now was not the time to keep secrets.
‘Looking at all these pictures, I remember…something.’ His voice trailed off, and I waited until he began again. ‘I remember Lilly. And she told me…’
He glanced at me and frowned.
‘Told you what?’ An image of Lilly with the mobile phone loomed in my mind. But that was now, today, not then.
‘She told me you and Rem were…together once.’ He glanced down at the drawing in my hand.
I sucked in a breath; I hadn’t been expecting that. Never before had I given Anne, Lilly, that much credit. I should know better than to underestimate that girl.
‘And then this,’ he added quietly and held out his phone.
I frowned, taking it from him, already knowing what I was going to see. A photo of Rem and me today in the library. Kissing. ‘Marcus…’
‘That doesn’t look like it happened a long time ago,’ he said, his voice steely. ‘It looks like it happened recently.’
‘He came to see me at the library—’
‘So you kissed him?’
I shook my head passionately. ‘No. I mean, yes. I mean…’
He snatched the phone off me. My stomach curdled, and my blood pulsed with panic. Of course Lilly had sent the photo to Marcus. How thrilled she must have been to capture it.
‘And you draw him…like that.’ He gestured to the picture of a bedraggled Sebastian.
I lowered my eyelashes. What could I say? I should never have drawn Sebastian looking so sultry and sexy. But I’d never expected Marcus to be snooping in my room.
‘That wasn’t me, Marcus,’ I said softly. ‘It was someone else.’ I looked at him, my eyes heavy, my repentance for then and now etched deeply on my heart. I’d kissed Rem in the library and betrayed Marcus yet again.
‘And today? Were you someone else today?’
I swallowed hard. ‘Yes. I think, for a moment, I was.’
He stared at me hard, his face pained. My heart cracked as I watched his tortured face, hating that I was responsible for it. There was nothing I could say, nothing that could change what I’d done. Both today and two hundred years ago.
‘I can’t stand it, Abbie,’ he whispered eventually, ‘I can’t stand thinking about you with him. Or seeing it.’
‘I know,’ I said quietly, ‘but it was just a moment; he caught me off guard. I can promise you, assure you, that it will never happen again.’
I moved towards him hesitantly, almost expecting him to flinch back. When he didn’t, I stepped even closer, so close that I could feel the heat from him.
Marcus sighed and looked at me, running a hand through his hair. ‘Abbie, he’s my brother.’
‘I know.’
His eyes dipped to my mouth and I swallowed hard, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Kiss me, I wanted to say, Kiss me and forgive me.
As if hearing my unspoken request, Marcus lowered his head, faltering for a second at my lips before kissing me, his lips warm and forgiving. I trembled beneath his kiss and stepped closer, looping my arms around his hips. He was holding back from me, I could feel it in his kiss, so I took the lead, slanting my mouth across his so that he had no choice but to join me.
With a heavy sigh, his breath fluttering against my lips, he pulled me down onto his lap, curling me across him in the small chair. I bit his lip and felt him tremble, the last remnants of his uncertainty vanishing. His mouth moved urgently against mine, deepening the kiss and making me gasp for breath. His hands wandered over my body, tugging at my clothes, and I sensed that he was tryi
ng to eradicate Rem, to banish him from my memories.
He looked up at me, his eyes smouldering with desire as he pushed my hair back behind my ears. ‘Abbie, you are so beautiful,’ he murmured.
The heat from him overtook me, sending ripples of delight throughout my body. I tugged at his t-shirt, wanting to feel his warm, smooth skin beneath my fingertips, wanting desperately to feel him. All of him. With one swift movement he pulled his shirt off, discarding it somewhere in the room, before he kissed me again. His mouth placed hot, wet kisses down my throat as he traced the curves of my body, reacquainting us with what was both achingly familiar and yet painfully unfamiliar. Kissing the hollow at the base of my neck, he mumbled my name, his fingers working to unbutton my dress.
I sighed, the sensation just as pleasant as the anticipation of what was to come.
‘You sure?’ he asked, brushing my dress aside, baring the skin on my shoulders, which he covered in fevered kisses.
I didn’t answer, but my hands roamed over the muscles in his back as I turned to face him, my legs either side of him. Was I sure? Had I ever been surer of anything?
‘Well, isn’t this cosy?’
It was as if we’d been slapped with an icy towel.
Rem.
Marcus paused, his forehead pressed against my breast at the spot where my heart beat frantically. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see Abbie,’ Rem replied, his voice as hard as steel. ‘Didn’t she tell you she was expecting me?’
Marcus raised his head, his accusing eyes meeting mine. I shook my head but at the same time remembered. Rem had said he would come, and I hadn’t said a word.
He’d said he wouldn’t kiss me, and I’d kissed him.
‘I forgot,’ I stammered lamely, feeling the weight of what I’d done and what it might cost me. ‘Marcus…’
He stood, dropping me roughly to the floor like he’d discarded me. Pulling my dress together, I rose to my knees as Marcus reached for his shirt, hurt pumping through my veins.
Glaring at Rem, I mustered as much hostility to my voice as I could. ‘How did you get in here?’
‘Meredith.’ He shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed against his chest, his eyes never wavering from me. ‘She obviously didn’t think I would be interrupting anything.’
I blinked, unsure what to say and strangely not scared. I sensed he wouldn’t hurt me. Not yet, not while he still believed there was a chance for us.
‘You should probably leave now, Marcus,’ Rem said, his voice cold.
‘You’re kidding right?’ spat Marcus. ‘There’s no way I’m leaving. It’s you who should go.’
‘Abbie,’ Rem didn’t even look at his brother, his gazed fixed on me, ‘tell him to go.’
‘No.’ I lifted my chin. ‘I won’t.’
Rem’s jaw moved and I noticed a muscle dance in his cheek.
‘You should go, Rem.’
He stepped forward and I flinched, looking away. His hands fisted and my breath caught in my throat. Now I was scared.
‘Abbie,’ whispered Marcus, ‘what’s the matter? He won’t hurt you.’
Rem snickered and I felt my stomach lurch. Of course. Marcus didn’t know the crux of it; he remembered only a part of our life at Broadhurst. He didn’t know that Rem had killed me before, many times.
‘Get dressed,’ Rem ordered.
Quickly I obeyed, buttoning my dress with trembling fingers.
‘I had faith, Becca,’ he said quietly, ‘and I thought you did too. I thought you believed.’
I blinked, but I could find no words as I took in the hurt that shined in his eyes, how the tear-shaped pupils dilated in the faint light. After a few moments he dragged his eyes from me and left, the door closing quietly behind him.
I looked at Marcus, who watched me with unreadable eyes. ‘I never knew him to be so weird.’
‘You don’t know the half of it.’ I tried to smile but it felt out of place. ‘Marcus, I—’
‘Don’t.’ He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking in different directions. ‘I have to go. I’ll catch you later.’
And he left, leaving me sitting there, in the middle of the room, surrounded by my pictures.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Waking the next morning, only half-surprised I’d had no more dreams, I huddled under Gran’s blanket in the chair, which was how I’d spent the night.
Meredith rapped tentatively on the door then popped her head in. ‘Abbie? Everything okay?’
I plastered the brightest smile I could muster on my face. ‘Yep.’
‘I just wanted to talk,’ she said, ‘to see how you’ve been feeling lately? You know, Dr Evans said we should take time to talk more.’
Dr Evans had also said I should take antidepressants, so I didn’t give much credence to what he said. But it was important Meredith thought I was better. If she even suspected what was really going on…I shuddered just thinking about it.
‘Everything is great! I feel better than I have in ages.’
That was exactly the right thing to say judging by Meredith’s smug grin. ‘Excellent. Well, don’t forget we’re seeing him this afternoon.’
I shook my head. ‘I won’t.’
Marcus was waiting for me, leaning back against his car, gazing up at my bedroom window. I stood exactly how I’d stood the very first day I’d seen him: hidden behind the curtains, watching him covertly. Today he wore black jeans and a dark green t-shirt that I knew would make his brown eyes even more adorable.
As I watched, he pulled out his phone and punched something in. Thirty seconds later my phone trilled to signal a message. I hoped he hadn’t seen the twitch of the curtains.
After reading his message, I replied, keying a single line. ‘Not going to school today. Am sick.’
He got it, his face furrowing in a frown before he eventually climbed into his car and drove away. But not before he gave me a direct look through my window, as if he knew I was there. Exactly like that first day a lifetime ago.
But there was nothing else to be done. I wanted to explain to him about Rem and me, but I had to explain it to myself first.
I waited a few more moments to make sure he’d really gone before I got ready. I pulled out the vintage dress I’d worn to the carnival, then applied a modest amount of makeup, thinking how barren my face looked without it.
Staring at myself in the mirror without the heavy, black eyeliner and lipstick on my face, I noticed how alike Penelope and I really were. Of course, I scolded myself, We’re the same person!
Outside, I made my way to the end of the street and caught the bus to the state library. Even though I made it a rule to never cut class, today was an exception. Besides, I told myself, rationalising to my guilty conscience, I’m doing research. Important research.
An hour later, the bus dropped me at the front of the state library, and I stood for a moment, staring up at the large, grey building, feeling anxious and tiny before it. Swallowing hard and telling myself I didn’t have anything to lose, I went in.
The foyer was busy with people milling about everywhere. I located the service desk and joined the queue, jiggling nervously from foot to foot. Get a grip, I berated myself, There’s nothing to be nervous about.
Finally it was my turn.
‘I’m looking for books on this topic.’ I held out the reference for the librarian to examine.
‘Third floor, dear. That’s where all that stuff is.’ From the tone of her voice I guessed she didn’t think much of the subject and probably thought it should be housed in the attic.
I smiled at my unintended association. Perhaps if it had been stored in the attic, then Penelope might have found it.
I caught the elevator to the third floor and located a free desk, where I dumped my things. Then I sat back in the chair and deliberated. Did I really want to know? Did I really want further proof that my theory of reincarnation was correct? It was okay to suspect that the
reason behind all this was reincarnation, after all, I wasn’t the only person in the world who claimed to remember their past lives, but did I really want to know?
Then I remembered Rem. The way he’d stared at me so intently, how he’d kissed me, and how ominous he’d sounded last night, the air around him icy and chill. I remembered Penelope, so in love and happy, unaware that Sebastian, at any moment, would destroy everything.
I swallowed hard. For Penelope, I feared, time had run out.
Minutes later and without even thinking about how it happened, I was back at the desk with a pile of solid, dusty books in my arms. Most of them resembled old encyclopaedias, the ones my Gran used to have lining the shelves of the study.
I opened the first ancient-looking book and began to read.
These crackpots had spent their entire lives researching reincarnation. They’d interviewed countless people who claimed to remember past lives, and through hypnosis they had helped many more remember. Of course, none of the psychos had any proof; after all, what proof could they possibly have?
I felt a little despondent as I read through the various texts, which all espoused the same type of thing. Not everyone was reincarnated, just those who had lessons to learn. Some people were reincarnated together repeatedly, throughout history, replicating old relationships that needed closure.
Like Sebastian and me.
Like Marcus and me.
Like Sebastian and Marcus?
I shivered. Then there was Lilly, who was somehow embroiled in it all too.
Randomly picking a book and scanning through its list of contents, I turned to its first chapter. The book was by a woman recalling her previous life as a London debutante in love with a young man who left her broken-hearted. That was why she’d been reincarnated—to reconnect with him.
I felt like gagging over the Mills and Boon saga. Surely they could’ve conjured up something less clichéd than a tragic love triangle.
Heath. Penelope. Sebastian.
Returning to the shelf where I had drawn the books from, I let my fingers trace along their spines when one suddenly caught my eyes.
Henry Broadhurst, Esq.
I blinked, my heart hammering to a standstill in my chest. Harry?
Time After Time Page 23
