by Jill Cooper
He kisses the top of my head and hugs me. I squeeze in close and my face mashes against his dress shirt. I wish everything could go back to how it was before, but it can’t.
“Watch for stop signs,” Mom says and they head to the truck. They might as well not even be in the same room. They don’t say anything. Their hands are almost close enough to touch, but they never do.
Fighting for their marriage or going through the motions; I don’t know which they’re doing. But I want them to make it. Part of me needs them to, it would at least give me hope. I pull into the car, attach my seatbelt, and start the engine. The truck’s break lights go off and it inches forward.
I turn on my signal light, do a shoulder check and let out a deep breath. Nervous butterflies slam in my gut.
Here goes nothing.
****
Light rain patters against the window. Soft rock music permeates the front of the car and in the back is the light chorus of Molly’s favorite movie. It’s punctuated by their giggles. I should be relaxed, but instead I grip the steering wheel.
We’re coming up on heavy traffic. The semi-truck in front of me squeals as it comes to a complete stop. I ease up on the gas and tap the break to a stop. Bumper to bumper traffic makes me nervous and I’m hyper aware so I don’t make a mistake. My eyes flicker to the rearview mirror. The blue sedan behind us jerks, slamming on his breaks.
My heart skips a beat, but we’re safe. He didn’t hit us.
So why am I so nervous?
It’s like this for several miles, but finally traffic lets up and we’re coasting along, curving left with the road. I increase the volume on the music and for a split second relax. My lungs fill with a serene breath and a sigh of relief washes over me.
“Hey kids, want to stop at the McDonald’s drive through? Who’s hungry?”
A chorus of cheers erupts in the backseat and the rearview mirror is filled with fists thrust in the air. I grin and turn my signal light on to take the next exit at a rest stop. The kids aren’t the only ones who are hungry. McDonald’s isn’t a health choice, but the thought of the crispy, hot fries—heavily salted, of course—is too much for me to resist.
POP
The steering wheel jerks out of my hand. My heart is lodged in my throat. The car drifts sharp to the right toward the embankment. My foot slams the break down and I jerk the steering wheel.
Screams come from the backseat. There’s no time to reassure them as another POP comes from beneath the car. Billows of smoke waft across the windshield. I can’t see anything, but my stomach is freefalling. My head slams into the ceiling as shards of glass rain toward me like hyperspace dust in Star Wars.
The car flipped. It skids across the pavement. My body crunches beneath the steering column. The screams in the backseat taper off.
My vision blurs. It doubles and then separates. Groaning, I fumble with my seat belt even though my fingers scream in pain. Cut and bloody, I fight against the urge to scream. Throwing my head back, I can’t see anything in the back except for feet.
“Molly? Mike!” I scream and try to reach back, but my shoulder radiates with pain.
The seatbelt comes free and I crawl through my open window. My legs shake. Every part of me wobbles. Someone is there and grabs my arms and helps me up. I don’t see his face, but I scream, “My brother and sister are in there!”
Police sirens inch closer. The good Samaritan pulls Mike from the car. I fight with Molly’s door and then the seatbelt that keeps her strapped into her booster seat. “Molly!” I scream, paying no attention to her bruised face. The stillness of her body. The stifled breath she takes.
Finally, I heft her out, her small body limp in my arms. I make it a few feet before my body won’t take it anymore. My knees drop to the ditch and I cradle her close, like a newborn baby. Gritting my teeth, I grip her. The pain in my heart is so intense I can’t say anything.
Molly’s hand touches my face, strokes my hair back. She doesn’t say anything. Her eyes never open.
I can’t do anything but hold her and fight the waves of pain coming at me in droves.
Damn you, Rex.
*****
The front tires blew out.
That’s the news that came from the police as I sat in the waiting room of the hospital, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. The only thing that will help me is to hear from the doctor that Molly will be all right. I can’t handle losing her. Not after Donovan. Not after everything else I’ve been through.
Mom holds my hand. I know she’s trying to be strong, but every once in a while her shoulders rock in sobs. She still has me. She still has Mike, but the loss of Molly—sweet Molly—would be too much to bear. I know this and so does Jax, who barely looks at us.
I watch him as he paces the hall and then leans his head against the wall. So much pain and so much suffering because of my choices. I need to find a way to fix it, but I don’t know how.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Mom said. “Those tires were going to blow out, no matter who was driving.”
“I braked.” My eyebrows knit together. “I learned in driving school not to brake. Accelerate, coast, gradually slow down as you go over to the side. I—” my voice wavers “—I panicked.”
“Everyone would.” Mom believes what she’s saying, I can hear it in her voice, but that doesn’t give me a free pass on my guilt.
And when I see the doctor coming, a wail of despair builds in the pit of my stomach. His lips are drawn together, down in something that isn’t a pout. It’s resolute. Like he’s steeling himself to do something he doesn’t want to do.
We both rise from our seats. Mom grips my hand as Jax comes over to us. “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery.” The doctor says the words with such sorrow, such pity, I don’t need to hear what he’s going to say next.
Molly’s not going to get better. She’s dead. Or dying. Kids shouldn’t be able to just up and suffer like this.
I zone out. My mind drifts to anywhere but there. The hole inside me grows, gets so big it could swallow me alive. But I can’t block out Mom’s sobs. When she falls against me, barely able to hold herself up, I grab her. I hug her close and we both fall to the floor. She pulls me back to the stark, cold reality of this world and there’s nothing I can say to make it better.
But do? There’s one thing I can do to end it all.
****
Turns not Molly isn’t dead, but she’s on life support and is never going to wake up. Her brain isn’t going to recover. Vegetable. Brain dead. It all sounds exactly the same. Like doctor mumbo jumbo that says the same thing.
You’re never going to talk to your sister again. See her play. The life you had is over. Again. I don’t know how much more of it I can take.
I stand at her bedside and hold her hand. I stroke her fingers. The room is a series of beeps, whooshes of air, everything designed to keep Molly alive while our parents try to find the strength to make the right decision.
To let her go.
But can I? I’m Lara Crane. When have I ever given up without a fight?
“Should I go back and save you?” I whisper against her ear. “Do I go back and save you even though none of this is real?”
Because it feels real. If this is the place where I can start to build a future, how can I let Molly go?
I start from the sound of something being placed down beside me. A nurse smiles at me as she adjusts a bouquet of flowers. “These were just brought by delivery.”
Delivery? Who else knew we were here?
Lilies and pink carnations aren’t exactly standard get-well flowers, but they’re pretty. I slide the card out of the envelope and unfold it. My eyes scan it and my temperature boils.
What are you waiting for? Why don’t you save poor little Molly? –Rex
I bite my lip and throw the card into the trash, storming out of the room. Not sure where I’m going, or what I’m going to do, I round the corridor. Running on fumes, the adrenaline pushes my legs on. I want t
o run. I want to start going and never stop.
Instead I see Jax talking to two police officers and it steadies my nerves. I get close and then slow down to hear them apologize.
“We’re sorry, Mr. Montgomery, to tell you like this. We thought it would be best—”
Jax holds up his hand. His wedding ring is still on his finger. There was still hope the marriage could be saved until today. This will ruin everything. “We can’t tell my wife. Not yet. If she knew it wasn’t an accident—”
The police move on and my voice trembles. “What? What wasn’t an accident?”
He pivots toward me and his eyes are sorrowful. “Lara, what are you—”
“—Answer the question.” My voice is soft, but sturdy. “Jax, please…”
“Your tires.” His hands smooth my shoulders, like somehow that will make everything better. “Your tires didn’t blow out. They were shot out.”
My eyes widen. “What? Why? Why would someone want to hurt Molly?” Then it hits me. Molly wasn’t supposed to be hurt. I was. “The senator?” Tears invade my vision and they refuse to leave. “I already testified. They already shot Donovan, but they aren’t going to give up, are they? They’re going to keep coming until they win.”
“They won’t win.” Jax squeezes my hand and he doesn’t let go. “I’ll die before I let that happen.”
“I believe you.” And the words terrify me. They will all die to protect me and I’ll be the last one standing. I can’t do it. I need him. Mom. Dad. None of this can continue.
Shaking my head, I wrestle my hand free. “I can fix this.”
“No, Lara. You don’t know what will happen to you. Your brain. You can’t fight the future. We learned that, didn’t we?”
His eyes are sincere. Jax is my final obstacle sent by Rex. If I can clear Jax, Rex will know he finally has me where he wants me. And he has me. We are locked in a warm embrace that neither of us will escape.
Because I am going back into the past. I am going to save Donovan. Molly. All of them. I will give Rex what he wants so he will let me out of this virtual reality prison to move on to the second stage of my training, the one designed to turn me into the woman with the purple hair.
Time travel assassin.
And when I get out, I’m going to kill him.
Jax can’t know what I’m planning because if I say anything, Rex will know. Nothing and no one in this world can be trusted, even the most loyal of my family.
“I’m sure.” My eyebrow rises and Jax hugs me. It might be a bunch of pixels, but it doesn’t feel like mirror and fog. It’s warm. Comfortable.
I pull away and I hurry down the hall. Rounding the corner, I come to an elevator. Everything in front of me starts to fall away and I focus only on the metal elevator door. It shifts and wobbles side to side.
My eyes snap shut and when they open again, I’m wearing a black blazer and matching skirt. In front of me is no elevator at all, instead there’s a double wide oak door.
Chapter Four
“Fifteen minutes.”
My head jerks toward the guard. No matter how many times I travel in time, it is always jarring. A wave of nausea hits me and I rub my forehead. Try to remember what it is I’m doing. Where it is I am.
Someone takes my hand. “Hang in there, Montgomery.”
The voice. Donovan. Everything rushes back to me and I remember why I am there. My heart pangs like it’s been shot. I stare up into his face and think I might cry. “Don…” I choke out the words. It’s been weeks in the virtual world since I’ve see him, but my heart aches like it’s been much longer, like it’s been a year, because somewhere deep inside I know the truth.
He cradles my face in his hands and kisses me like it’s been days, weeks, since he’s seen me. It sends me soaring. But this is what life with Donovan James is like, the man with two first names. It’s thrilling. It’s passionate. But it’s never dull.
That’s why I need to save him. That’s why I can’t go on without him.
It stops here and now, so I won’t lose him or Molly. It’s time to get my life back.
Our fingers coil around each other’s.
“Nervous?” He nuzzles his nose against my cheek and I close my eyes.
“Not anymore.” I smile and smooth his cheek with my hand.
Donovan’s eyes crackle with a question. I know what it is, but there’s no way I can answer it. Instead, I just take a deep breath and fall into him. His arms wrap around me and we say nothing else. We don’t need to. That’s just who we are with each other.
The minutes tick by and when the door to the court room opens, I jump. Again. The guard waves us in. Donovan makes his way to the seating area and I keep my head high. I take my place behind the witness stand and raise my hand as instructed. The other one rests against the hardbound cover of a bible. It feels just like it did the last time.
Smoothing my skirt, I sit down. My eyes fall to the defense table where senator Patricia James sits. Donovan’s mother and the one who nearly killed me, Mom, our entire family all in the name of illegal time travel research. I did everything I did to stop her and now she’s going to pay the price.
One way or another, boy is she going to pay the price.
“Can you recount how you knew Joyce Meyers?”
Everything plays out exactly as it did the last time we were here. Question for question. Answer for answer. I make sure nothing I do deviates from the past. When I step down from the witness stand, I glare at Patricia James and her face is an unmoving wax statue of the woman I used to know as a family friend. She plays with the paper in front of her and in her other hand is a pen.
But she doesn’t make eye contact with me, and for that I’m grateful.
I take Donovan’s hand and we step outside of the court room. Here we go. We are headed toward the end. If I don’t save his life, I guess I’ll just have to keep trying until I get it right.
Taking a deep breath, I lean against the wall; my stomach is a nervous bottomless pit. Donovan caresses my arms and kisses my forehead. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”
“So am I. I just want to put everything behind us. You know? All of us. So we can all move on together. Family and friends.”
“We’ll get there,” he says softly and caresses my chin. Such a small movement and it makes my heart skip a beat. “How about I take you out of here now for some ice cream?”
“Only if it’s vanilla.” I try to grin, but I’m too nervous. We start down the hall toward the elevator hand in hand.
“You all right, rock star?” Donovan asks and his eyes twinkle with concern.
“I will be,” I whisper and give him a longing glance. Boy, will I be.
At the elevator Donovan pushes the down button and we wait. He plays with my hair and I rest my head against his shoulder, but I don’t take my eyes off the elevator. I wait for the doors to slide open and it seems to take longer than before.
The elevator dings.
We wait for the doors to swoosh open. A darkened figure wearing a ski mask is inside. I know he’s holding a gun, but I don’t wait for it to register with my eyes. Instead, I lunge at him, grab his wrist and slam him against the elevator’s wall. He calls out in surprise as I knee him between the legs.
“Lara!” Donovan cries out and I slam my finger against the button to close the doors. By the time he’s upon me, the elevator door slides closed.
Sorry, Donovan. But this is something I need to do myself. I need to protect him, not the other way around.
I kick our assailant and slam my fancy shoes into his stomach and then his crotch. I wrestle the gun from his grip until I am holding it in my hands.
Taking a shallow breath, I push the emergency button on the elevator panel and train my weapon on him. I want to know who it is. I want to see who Rex sent to kill me. I reach down and pull the black ski mask off his head and I’m not surprised.
I pull the gun safety off. “Hi Uncle Rex.”
Rex holds hi
s hands up above his head. “You wouldn’t kill family, would you?”
In a virtual reality, yeah, I’d have to say I would. My jaw is set firm when I fire a shot into his chest. It might not be the right thing to do, but it feels damn good to finally be rid of him.
Practice makes perfect.
Rex gasps for breath. “It won’t be over.” He covers his chest with his hand and the blood pools through his fingers. “Not until you kill Patricia. It’ll never be over until then.”
Message received loud and clear. I snarl at my dying uncle. If Rex wants a killer, I am going to give him exactly what he wants. So I can get out of this prison and this cage. I hit the button to open the elevator doors.
When the doors open, Donovan rushes in as police surround us. “Lara, are you all right? Oh my God, Lara…” His eyes take in the sight of me standing there with the gun and Rex slumped dead on the floor.
“You need to come with us, miss,” the policeman says.
And I nod, pretending to feel numb. “He was going to kill me. He had a gun. I just—I did what I had to, Don.”
“I know.” Donovan’s hand goes beneath my hair against my jaw and he leans in for a kiss. I close my eyes as bliss overtakes me. “But to rush in like that, you could have been really hurt. That could be you on the floor.”
“But it’s not.” I smile. “We’ll be okay. I know that now.”
I step out and the police take the gun from me and wrap it in a plastic bag. “He’s my uncle. I know who he works for. I have evidence linking him to Patricia James. I’m not safe. Donovan isn’t safe. You have to stop her.”
The police officer puts his arm around my shoulders as he leads me away. I glance over my shoulder to see Donovan’s face and I see the horror in his eyes. Patricia is his mother. I know Donovan stands with me, but this might be asking too much. I pray it’s not. I pray somehow we can both get out of this alive. Together.
But in the back of my head there’s that nagging feeling that none of this is real. And somehow, for a few minutes, I almost forgot. If I want to keep my sanity together, I’m going to need to act fast. I don’t know how much longer I can expect to keep this up.
