by Jill Cooper
“Pixelated dust?” Donovan’s eyes darken. “Time travel. Are you saying she was a time traveler?” His voice rises to an uncomfortable level.
“Please, don’t freak out. I’m upset enough by all this.” I bite my lip and wait for his reaction.
He rubs his face clean and looks to have aged years right in front of me as the worry creeps over his face. “The TTPA didn’t catch this?”
“Maybe they did. Maybe that’s why she left. She could’ve killed me before the police barged in. So, either she wants something other than my death or she was yanked out by something...or someone.”
Donovan massages his neck. “I don’t like it. This thing—whatever Delilah was into—we can’t let you get dragged into it.”
“Whatever Delilah was in to? What is that supposed to mean? She might not have been into anything.”
“But we don’t know. That’s my point. I know Marcus wants you there tomorrow. I know you feel like you have to be there, but…” Donovan sighs and goes on bended knee. He takes both my hands in his and implores me with his big blue eyes. “Let’s just go away. Vegas. An island. Hell, I’ll buy you an island, Montgomery. Let’s elope and just go.”
“I don’t run away, Donovan.” I pull my hands away, even though I can appreciate where he’s coming from. The fear runs deep and sometimes the urge to flee is too strong, even for me.
“Are you implying I can’t handle this? Because it’s you I’m worried about, Lara. Not myself. I want to protect you. Why is that so bad?”
I caress his cheek. I think back to the version of an older adult Don I had once seen. The future in which I disappeared?
He’d fallen apart, had been a drunk, and desperate for something he no longer had. That man had been weak and it was a secret I’d take to my grave. He didn’t need to know how he’d failed when people had needed him the most.
“Then we handle it together. For better or worse, right?” I show him my engagement ring to remind him, “I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t mean it, Don.”
“Oh, Lar,” his voice is soft as his eyes gaze into mine, “I’m not questioning your love or dedication to us. I’m just…. Look, can we agree on one thing? Time travel does nothing but disrupt the future. Can you promise not to try to fix this, whatever it is?”
I nod. “I can’t anyway. Last time I tried….” The color drains out of Don’s face and I realize I’ve said too much. “Well, try is probably too strong a word. It was more like, a reflex. I saw Delilah lying there,” my nose scrunches, “in her own blood and…”
“You tried to go back in time? Tried to fix this? Even after you promised.” He looks like I’ve betrayed him.
I’m quick to apologize, maybe a little too quick. “It was a reflex. She was my friend and then she was dead. Just like that, Don.” I speak softly and bite my lip. The image of Delilah’s body flashes into my mind and puts tears in my eyes. “If I can save someone I love, why wouldn’t I try? Wouldn’t you?”
Donovan shook his head. “Don’t make this about you. You can’t save everyone all the time. You’re not God. What happened to Delilah…”
“It’s already about me.” I’m on the edge. Ready to whip out the card from the scene, but I hold it back. I grip my knees and just wait for the feeling to pass. Donovan’s not ready to go tripping down the rabbit hole with me. Somehow, I have to protect him from the madness that’s my life, even though I’m ready to take his name.
“We have to let the police do their job. You can’t save everyone this time, Lara. You’re just like the rest of us.”
The truth of those words stings me. A regular person. No longer a time traveler? The anxiety mounts in my chest. Maybe I don’t want to be a regular person. It sounds nice, but when it comes right down to it…
Donovan strokes my hair back and I lean against him as he kisses the side of my head.
I hate our fights. He wants the best for me…I know that…but my heart wishes sometimes he’d stand beside me rather than fight me.
“But I’ll protect you. Be here for you. We’ve always faced these things together and this time won’t be any different.”
His words are nice, but they aren’t true. This time was going to be a lot different. Without time travel, one mistake might be my last.
****
Later that night, we lie atop the bed’s warm comforters, a fire raging in the master suite’s hearth as rain echoes against the windows. Both of us need a little something from the other. A reminder, something to hang onto that proves we’re going to make it through this crazy life. My lips search his body as his hand grips my hair.
We moan in time and I cling to him, bury my face against his shoulder. He grips my legs closer to his body, and each time we fall deeper in love with each other than the last. Finally, we lie gasping for air, perspiration covering bodies entangled with each other like mottled spider webs. It’s at once perfect, and desperate. When I gaze up at his sleeping face, I’m overcome with love. The type that rips my heart open.
There’s nothing I want more than to marry him. Love him. But if having a normal life means friends die and the world suffers, how can I be happy?
None of it sits right with me.
Tracing his chin with my finger, my skin grazes over his lips and I hope one day he can see fit to forgive me. Maybe find a way to look past my shortcomings and love me anyway.
Gathering the sheet around my body, I hurry into our bathroom. The tub is big enough to be a swimming pool, and on the edge of it is my clutch from the party. Pulling out the golden card, I stare at the saliva splatters along the edges.
Anger and pent-up despair swirl in my belly and race to the top. The card makes me emotional. Makes me alive with fury. If ever there is a secret to time travel, this is it. After four years, I’m not as angry as I once was. I have my mother, father. Donovan. Everything my heart has ever craved, but with the loss of Delilah, maybe I can find that raw anger I need.
The anger that had once driven me from day to day. The key that had propelled me through time.
The room swirls and I gasp for breath as the mirror spins toward me. I grip the edge of the sink and wait for everything to fall away, to pixelate. In retrospect, I wish I had gotten dressed, but like a car hitting a brick wall, I jolt inside my own skin.
My mind never leaves, and instead, a headache crashes onto me and blood trails from my nose. I dab it up with toilet paper and squeeze my nose tight.
A normal life? Seems as if Donovan might get his wish.
Chapter Six
In the morning, I dress more casually. A tight, pink sweater over a white collared shirt paired with a relaxed jeans. I slip comfortable flats onto my feet and I’m off for the day. Donovan rides with me in the car over to TTPA headquarters in Boston then heads on to his office. In the back of the limo, we share a quick bite to eat and two steaming cups of coffee.
Just outside the sprawling TTPA headquarters, he kisses my nose. “Send for the car when you’re done. If there’s some sicko out there, I don’t want you walking the streets.”
I smile sheepishly. “Got it.”
But nothing is safe. Not if I’m dealing with a time traveler. For all I know, I’m being monitored and they know when I’ll show up before I do. Somehow, I must beat them at their own game.
Entering through the revolving door, I’m dumped directly into the lobby. Security greets me as warmly as can be expected and they go through my bag. I pass through the scanner and collect my laptop and belongings on the other side. All that’s left is to take the glass elevator up to the third floor. Should be simple enough.
I break into a smile when I see Marcus standing by the elevator waiting for me. “Marcus, did you already have your Wheaties?”
He chuckles and takes my hand as he always does when we’re alone. I don’t know why I allow the closeness between us to remain. It’s hard to let go of that fondness, even when you are marrying someone else. Plus, he’s thirty-odd years my senior. If somethin
g were to happen between us, it was in the past.
Literally.
“I thought a friendly face might make this easier.” Marcus calls the elevator, and when it arrives, we step in.
“Oh, it does.” I play with the idea of telling him about the card and the assassin, but I pass on both for the time being. “Any information on who the board thinks might be a good fit?”
“Only one and she’s in this elevator with me.” Marcus gives me a pointed look and inwardly, I groan.
My stomach rolls and for a moment, the elevator spins. “I appreciate—.”
“Do you?” Marcus asks as the elevator door opens, “Do you really appreciate how badly the TTPA needs strong leadership? Someone with the drive and passion both you and Delilah had? Have.” Marcus raises his eyebrows as he ushers me through the hall.
It's lined with closed-door offices one way and the other branches off to the tech department. He opens the door to the empty conference room and we choose a place around the huge table. Already at each seat are folders embossed with the swirling logo of the TTPA. Marcus leans back in his chair. “I know, Lara, how you feel about the day-to-day operations here, but can you honestly say anyone is going to care about time travel and all its complexities more than you do?”
“My mother then. Jax. Someone that isn’t me.”
Marcus smirks. “Is that you talking? Or Donovan James?”
My heart skips. “That’s not fair. I wanted to be done with time travel just as much as he did. Maybe more. I’m the one whose life was on the line. Time and time again.”
His eyes soften and he rubs his hands together. “You needed time away. To gather strength. Recharge. No one is saying time off is a bad thing, Lara, but TTPA needs you. And I think you need it.”
I shrug with no words left to say. “I don’t know anything about running an agency. I can barely get to class on time.”
Marcus’s face is a series of harsh angles. “So it’s true? You really can’t travel in time anymore? I thought it was something you played up for the press.”
“If I could, I would’ve used it last night.” I swallow hard. “Marcus, level with me. Can the TTPA really monitor when someone opens a time-travel wormhole? Or whatever they’re calling it these days to the media. Can they really stop it?”
Marcus wipes his mouth. “Absolutely. You’ve seen the room. The monitors and the technicians. Space is monitored just like a weather system rippling across the ocean. Thanks to your brain scans, we can see that ripple in a fraction of a second. Trace it to the source and dispatch who we need to to stop any infraction. But, truth be told, except for a few blips,” Marcus shrugs, “there haven’t been any. A few people tried, but never made it through.”
“Like slamming into a closed door.” I think about last night. How I had tried and failed to get through, so why hadn’t the TTPA come to me? “I’d like to see the recordings from last night, if I can.”
“Of course, of course. After our meeting this morning.” Marcus taps the folder laying in front of him, “Time to go over a few of these candidates before they arrive?”
“So, there are a few more than just me,” I smirk as he blusters and coughs into his fist. Reaching for the coffee butler in the center of the table, I shake my head. It’s going to be a long morning.
****
A few cups of coffee in my belly and my mind swirls into anxiety mode. As the other board members start to arrive, I stand. Although Mom’s license to perform time-travel experiments had been blocked by a court injunction, no one rivaled her knowledge of time travel. We greet each other with a hug. “Mom,” I eke out because it’s so good to see her. A girl always needs her mom, even if that girl is grown up and living in a penthouse suite overlooking the whole city.
“You okay, baby?” She pushes my hair back. “She was our friend; I’m so sorry you had to find her like that last night.”
“Me too, Mom.” There’s no time to elaborate as others rush into the room. The conversation will have to wait.
I turn to shake hands with a few other board members even though I would rather not have blown my mom off so fast. Merrill Thomas, Franklin Smith, and Tracy Morgan arrive one by one. All decent people who know more about running a business than time travel, and that’s okay. We strive for balance. Both ends of the spectrum must be level and they have my confidence, or at least they did when Delilah had been holding the reins.
When Jax enters the room, I breathe a sigh of relief to have him there. He’s my former step-dad and nothing has changed between us since the divorce. His blond hair is a little shorter than it used to be and the worry lines around his eyes are deeper. He grips my hand and I squeeze his forearm.
“Good to see you, kid,” he leans over to kiss my cheek and whispers, “We need to talk.”
A shiver runs up my spine. Another mystery, another secret? Jax infamously caused my father to rot in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed—for ten long years. I know he’d done what he had thought was right to protect me and my mom, but sometimes my bitterness over it rises to the surface. If he’s keeping a secret now, if he knows something about Delilah, I wish he’d just come out and tell me.
But maybe now isn’t the time. Or the place.
“After? Grab a cup of coffee?”
Jax affirms it with a nod. Everyone takes their seats and I return to mine.
Marcus clears his throat. “I know it’s early and short notice, but thank you everyone for attending. Delilah was the heart of this organization and until we find a permanent new director, we need to appoint someone to fill her very large shoes. My feeling, for now, is it should be someone in this room.”
I stiffen as he speaks, but I try not to let my reservations show. I cross my legs and grip my hands together under the table, giving him my full attention. But out of the corner of my eye, I catch a few things. Mom’s face had been slack, but now it’s brightened. Is she so ready to jump back into the time travel game that she would have me risk our family’s happiness? Franklin Smith stiffens. He doesn’t want the job—or doesn’t want to appear to want the job.
Both Tracy and Jax’s faces drop. Merrill smiles and sits up straighter. His arms lean onto the table. He doesn’t just want the job, he’s hungry for it. Had some sort of rift between him and Delilah led to her death?
I shouldn’t cast members of the board in my own personal whodunit, but what would the motivation to kill her have been, other than to assume power?
“My nominee doesn’t want the job, but she knows better than most the real consequences of time travel. How it can rip a life apart.” Marcus gestures to me and I suck in my breath. “Lara Montgomery.”
I glance over at Jax and Mom for help. Jax holds his hand up. “That might be the most reasonable thing you’ve said all year, Marcus.”
A light chortle waves through each member of the board, but my heart skips a beat. Jax thinks this is a good idea? It’s as if I’ve been slapped.
Mom’s eyes widen. “You support this?”
I’m glad someone has my back.
“How can you even think…” Mom holds up a finger and ticks off her points. “She’s in college, getting married, and after everything she’s been through, she needs a break.”
“Everything she’s been through…” Marcus stands and pushes his chair in. I know what’s coming. His closing argument is ready as he paces around the table, making eye contact with each board member in turn. He’s snowballed me, gotten me here for this very moment, and when his eyes fall on me, terror balls in my chest. I’d thought we were friends.
“Everything she’s been through has made her strong. Has showed her the errors of time travel, the dangers. It can’t be used lightly by anyone. Not the police. Not someone trying to get rich. Not someone trying to avert disaster. The fabric of space already shows signs of strain and how do you suggest we combat that? We need someone in that seat…” he points at me.
I never should’ve taken the seat at the head of the ta
ble.
“…who knows and loathes time travel as much as she does. The wrong person in that seat would game the system and would appoint a figurehead to do their bidding. We need Lara, in the interim, to steer this agency in the right direction. She’s the one to keep us on the straight and narrow.”
Comprehension clears the unsure faces. Feeling the change of heart, I gather my thoughts and glance at my mother. Her hand is over her mouth. Even she sees the choice is obvious. I want to beg her for a way out, but no matter what I decide to do, I need the board’s support. Weakness can’t be shown.
I must be strong.
Mom stretches her hand out to me and I squeeze it. “You can still walk away. Still say no, if that’s what you want. It’s up to you, Lara.”
“It’s nepotism,” Merrill says and rises to his feet, “that’s what this is. Plain and simple. Crane has always been Delilah’s pet project.”
My eyes narrow. “She was my friend and collaborator. I’m no one’s pet.”
“Sit back down, Merrill. Everyone understands where you’re coming from,” Marcus says. “We’ll take it to a vote.”
Mom opens her mouth to say something but I shake my head to warn her off. I don’t need her to fuel Merrill any further.
“The board will support you,” Franklin says, “If you choose to stay in that seat for now, I will give you whatever guidance you need.”
“We won’t let you fall,” Tracy nods.
Marcus puffs up his chest as I nod, but I can’t look him in the eye. Part of me doesn’t like how he’s grandstanded and given such a persuasive speech. Just like a politician, and I had thought we were above those tactics. “Then we’ll take it to an official vote.”
“Just a second,” a knock at the door stops the train barreling down the track. A man in a classy business suit enters and hands Marcus an official legal brief. “Delilah Chase named a successor and filed it with the TTPA several months ago.”
Oh God, is it me? My stomach churns and sweat gathers on my brow. I wipe it away as Marcus’s face goes red. “This is preposterous! I’ve never heard of this individual!”
