by Mel Teshco
She turned, blinking back tears. ‘I don’t know what I want anymore,’ she whispered brokenly, her stare haunted and achingly sad. She bit into her bottom lip. ‘You must think me a stupid fool.’
His heart compressed. She had to be in shock after everything she’d gone through, her perception of reality challenged just the same as his. Except he’d had more time for everything to sink in, while it was all fresh for her. Implausible. And totally warped.
‘I think lots of things, but never a stupid fool,’ he said hoarsely.
And as the finale of Adele crashed over them through the speakers, he did pull her into his arms, stroking her head as she cried out her sudden outpouring of tears.
***
They worked well together in the kitchen, each somehow aware of what the other needed. And though it was at best a simple slap-up meal, the scents from the steaming mushroom omelette, along with the visual greenery of the Greek salad, had his gut clench with hunger.
He slid the omelette onto a plate and she took it from him with an appreciative sniff. ‘Great job. You really do know how to cook.’
Tell her now. Tell her who you really are in your dimension.
He let the moment of truth slide. He was comfortable being with her without any label or status symbol attached, without her having any preconceived ideas about him as a celebrity chef.
Placing the omelette on her round dining table, next to the glass bowl of salad and two glasses of orange juice, she lit a tapered candle and said, ‘When I got your bag out of the back of your truck, I also searched the restaurant for the flowers you brought me.’ She looked up, ‘they weren’t there.’
As if I’d never been.
Jessie nodded, thankful for his last change of clothes in the overnight bag. ‘So we can assume that, in this dimension at least, we hadn’t met.’
She nodded. ‘Or had yet to meet.’ As he found the cutlery and grabbed what they needed, she went to the cupboard and retrieved two plates and some napkins. She paused, sucking her bottom lip as if she was searching for the right words. ‘I know this sounds odd, but do you think some people are destined to meet, no matter which dimension they’re in?’
Their gazes locked. His chest contracted. ‘Soulmates?’
Her lashes drifted low and she breathed, ‘Yes.’
‘I think there’s a distinct possibility that some things are meant to be,’ he said huskily, his whole being aching at her naïve wisdom that right then made all too much sense.
When they sat to eat, it was in contemplative silence. Except Jessie realised that although they were comfortably intimate, there was so much he’d yet to know about Tara on a personal level—the stuff that shaped her as a person and made her the woman she was today.
He placed his fork on the side of his plate and focused on Tara. ‘It’s just occurred to me that, although we’ve slept together and shared the most bizarre experience from this whole dimensional thing, I know so little about you.’
‘And you want to know more?’
‘Yes.’ Hell, yes. He used his thumb to absently rub some condensation off his glass. ‘I mean, I know your mother is very ill and that you ran a restaurant alone. I know how you smell and how you respond to me. I know your gorgeous body …’
She arched a brow. ‘And that’s not enough?’
‘Not nearly. There’s so much more about you that I want to know.’
She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and nodded slowly. ‘I think you know more about me than I do about you.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess we’ve had other things on our mind.’ And he wasn’t just talking about their time between the sheets.
Her smile was gentle. ‘I’m thinking we’ll be spending a lot of time together. We’ll learn everything we need to know when the time is right.’
His throat thickened. ‘You really are smart.’
Wise. Gorgeous. Perfect for him in every way.
Her smile widened. ‘And you really know the right things to say to make a woman feel good about herself.’
Their plates clean of food and their glasses emptied of juice, Jessie said, ‘How about I clean this up while you grab anything you think might be important?’
‘Okay. Thanks.’ Her brow scrunched. ‘Is it even necessary to clean, I mean if we’re never coming back …’
He shrugged. ‘When your “self” in this dimension returns, she might be a little upset.’
Tara put a hand to her mouth, muffling her sharp gasp.
Oh, hell. Had he forgotten how this dimensional stuff broke every known rule and belief? It was brain overload times ten. His voice gentled. ‘Forget I said that, I know how hard this is to take in.’
She nodded, her eyes wide and shadowed with distress.
He stood, stating matter-of-factly, ‘Let’s just say that cleaning up after myself is a habit I’m not likely to break anytime soon.’
She pushed to her feet, her lips twitching back into a smile. ‘If only all men felt that way.’
So I’m a keeper then?
He didn’t say the words springing to life in his head. Instead he watched as she hurried off to her bedroom to pack what she needed. He stood still for some minutes while a deep yearning for her, all of her, coursed through him.
Despite spending a relatively short time together, he really did feel as though they’d known each other far longer. Like they were destined to be together.
He shook off the odd thoughts, and began to tidy their mess. It didn’t take long, but the distraction helped keep his emotions in check. A pity his leg had begun to throb once again.
Tara returned with her clutch purse and pulling a small suitcase behind her. Her cheeks were flushed. ‘I … I just realised I don’t have all that much that means a lot to me.’ She swept out an unsteady hand. ‘It’s taken these circumstances with you to make me realise that even the restaurant means so … little.’
‘Tara—’
‘It’s been an albatross around my neck.’
He nodded. ‘Sometimes it takes something bad in our lives to make us realise our “good” wasn’t so great to start with.’
An image of Mercedes came to mind, but he quickly brushed it away. He’d examine his feelings on that subject … later.
Seemed he’d have a lot of thinking to do.
‘Yes.’ She scanned his face. ‘I think you’re right.’
His gaze clung to hers for a moment before he forced himself to look away. Tossing the dishcloth over the faucet he turned to her and said, ‘We should go.’
She nodded, ‘I’m ready.’
Only when they’d traversed the stairs and pushed through the door outside her restaurant did she turn back at her ‘closed until further notice’ sign and look ready to march right back inside. It seemed old habits really did die hard.
‘Tara. Wait!’ Harrison called out.
Jessie about-faced at the same time as Tara, his mouth dropping open as he viewed the hotel owner who jogged across the road. No. Way. It was Tatts, but without his tattoos. His skin was unblemished and smooth, without a trace of even one ink design.
‘You’re leaving?’ Harrison asked Tara.
She twisted to Jessie, her face drawn tight with shock. ‘Yes. I—we are.’
Harrison barely glanced at Jessie. ‘Damn girl, you only just got here.’
Jessie raised a brow. The smooth and polished voice didn’t even sound like Harrison. Was it possible that in this dimension the barman was a far different man?
Harrison shook his head. ‘I guess you’re going back to your mother’s? I can’t say that I blame you.’ He didn’t seem to register Tara’s paling face. ‘In fact, I’m surprised to see you here again so soon. Hell, if my mum married one of the richest men in Australia, I’d be out of this hick town too.’
‘Married? She’s … not sick?’ Tara breathed, scanning Harrison’s face as though a person drowning and clutching for a life preserver.
Harrison looked dumb
founded. ‘Your mother sick? C’mon, are you kidding me?’
Jessie stepped in. ‘Tara’s had a big night. I’m just taking her to her mother’s now.’
Harrison turned to him, a quick, disdainful glance taking in his designer clothes. ‘Let me guess, you’re from Sydney too. You look the same type.’
‘The same type?’ Tara echoed, staring at the other man like an animal caught in headlights. ‘Is my mother and her … husband in Sydney?’
Harrison turned back to her with a frown. ‘Of course she is. But you know that Tara, you just came from there!’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s going on? You’re acting strange.’
She burst into laughter. ‘If only you knew!’
The concerned look the other man cast her would have been comical had Jessie not known what the man was capable of. Harrison cocked his head to one side. ‘You’re not in some sort of trouble, are you? If you need help—’
‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ Tara rebuffed. ‘I’ve learned firsthand what sort of help you’re willing to give.’
At the hurt etched in Harrison’s face, Jessie put an arm around Tara’s stiff shoulders and murmured, ‘Sweetheart, things are different here.’
The barman took a backwards step, concerned devotion warring with an evident need to relinquish such feelings. ‘Things are different here, Tara. Unlike the city folk, we look out for one another, protect one another.’
As Tara snorted into laughter, Harrison broke in, ‘What’s going on with you, Tara? Has this man given you some crazy city drug or something?’
Tara’s eyes were watering by the time she clapped a hand to her mouth and said in a muffled voice, ‘Maybe he has.’
Harrison glared at Jessie as though he’d grown big black wings. He swung back to Tara and announced, ‘You’re not the person I thought I knew.’ He shook his head with despair. ‘When you hit rock bottom, you know where to find me.’
Tara’s laughter died a sudden death as Harrison spun on his heel and strode away, back into the hotel where he came from. She turned to Jessie with nothing short of a glower. ‘I’m not the person he thought he knew? Why did you stick up for that … that monster? Are you mad?’
He smiled, unable to help but love her fiery spirit and amused by the connotations buried in her offhand remark. ‘As strange as it might sound, I was just trying to be rational.’
‘Harrison might look different, but he’s the same man who tried to murder us in our sleep!’
He nodded. ‘That’s true. But let’s not forget all of that happened in another dimension. In this one he is quite the innocent.’
She visibly wilted. ‘Except we know what he’s capable of.’
‘Then we won’t hang around any longer.’
She nodded, relenting. ‘I don’t think I could stomach being here even a minute more. Not knowing what I do now. But … where do we go?’
Jessie couldn’t help but admire her inner strength. Everything she understood had altered; everyone she thought she’d known had changed. Her perceptions were leaping into the great unknown. He knew personally it wasn’t an experience to be taken lightly. It was mind-boggling, mind-bending. And scary as all hell.
‘We go to Sydney,’ he answered at last. ‘I need to uncover what I can down there. See what has changed.’
And she could catch up with her mother there.
Her smile was wobbly this time, but brave. ‘Then what are we waiting for?’
***
Sydney was just an hour away when Jessie flicked his headlights on to counteract the fading day. And all the while he contemplated how many times he would need to drive from Sydney to Mirraway and back—and if Tara would be by his side for the whole journey.
He swallowed. God, he hoped so.
He couldn’t imagine not sharing this with her, not now. Though he knew she struggled to come to terms with it all, somehow she set everything back to normal, like the dimensional stuff was just a blip on the radar they could navigate together.
Glancing at Tara as she slept beside him, something shifted in his chest, warding off sleep deprivation. Her tousled blonde hair fell over a shoulder and shielded one of her breasts behind her little blouse as her chest rose and fell, slow and steady. Her yellow skirt had crept up her thighs, exposing her long, beautiful legs.
Despite the gravity of the situation, his cock stirred. He took a deep, stabilising breath. He’d show Tara just how much he wanted her soon enough. She needed her sleep and he needed to concentrate on the road ahead.
Some forty minutes later, he turned at an intersection that would take him towards his mother’s house. A rush of adrenaline and fear pushed aside the weariness dragging at his consciousness.
What would he find this time? Was his mother even alive?
He shivered. Was his sister?
Jessie, help me. Please, help me!
Lolita’s pleas echoed in his mind like a horror mantra when he finally pulled into his mother’s driveway once again. Tilly barked incessant greetings from next door, teething on the mesh with excitement.
He cut the ignition, staring in the growing darkness at the tree that was still standing tall. In his reality he’d cut it down. Was this dimension much the same as the last one?
Tara stirred, stretched, and then opened groggy eyes. She peered through the windshield, blinking in the dark. ‘This is where you live?’ she queried, clearly shocked at the barely modest house.
His voice came out hoarse when he explained simply, ‘It’s where I grew up.’
She touched his hand. ‘You’ve come a long way.’
He squeezed her hand in return. ‘I have. I … did.’ He turned to her. ‘In this dimension I’m not so sure I’ve come far at all.’
She smiled, eyes appraising him and unashamedly finding him up to standard. ‘I think a man like you would be a success, no matter the circumstances.’
You’ve gotten clean, haven’t you?
This time it was his mother’s words that filled his head. He closed his eyes on a sigh and muttered, ‘I’m not so sure about that.’
A light came on in the back of the house, someone inside undoubtedly waking up from the neighbour’s watchdog.
Leaving the Hummer, he snared Tara’s hand as he strode towards the house, aware his bad leg was marginally better. Obviously keeping the weight off had helped speed up the healing process.
‘Are you sure you’re ready for this?’ she asked gently.
‘I don’t have a choice.’
The door swung open and as they stepped onto the verandah and into the pool of light cast from the interior light, Jessie blew out a relieved breath. ‘Mum.’
His mother pushed a hand to her mouth in shocked dismay, then stepped out and snared his arm before dragging him inside, leaving Tara little choice but to follow. Her eyes blazed as she took in her son. Fierce. Frantic. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she hissed.
Jessie frowned, hardly able to comprehend this woman as the fragile, dependent mother he’d known. ‘That’s hardly the welcome I was expecting,’ he chided. ‘I’ve come to visit, to … talk.’
Her narrow shoulders stiffened. ‘You’ll be doing more than talking if the police catch you here!’
Tara’s shock was palpable beside him when he stared at his mother and croaked, ‘Police?’ His gut wrenched with sudden premonition even as his mind ticked back to the gun, the money. Both of which were still stashed in the glove compartment of his Hummer.
‘Jessie. What’s going on?’ Tara asked, her voice noticeably shaky.
He turned to Tara at the same moment as his mother, who seemed to finally register he had company.
‘Who is this? Your accomplice?’ his mother asked with a voice overflowing with disapproval.
Accomplice? He drew his thoughts together, somehow managing an introduction, ‘Mum, this is Tara. Tara, this is my mum, Carla.’
Tara’s face relaxed just a fraction. ‘Hi Carla, nice to meet you.’
His mother frowned
. ‘I might say likewise, if only it were under better circumstances.’
Jessie knotted his hands. ‘What circumstances?’
His mother turned back to him, disbelief heavy in her face. ‘I don’t think I need to remind you of your sister’s hit-and-run murder!’
The wave of heat that swept through him made him lightheaded and caused the room to slowly spin. Seemingly nothing in this dimension had changed. His sister was dead. Gone. Only Tara’s hand reclasping his kept his sanity intact, his emotions together.
His mother shook her head, and added in a choked-up voice, ‘Or your retribution.’
‘Retribution?’ he croaked. ‘What do you mean?’
His mother’s shoulders shook, and in that moment she looked deathly frail, as if the weight of the world held her down. She looked up, eyes haunted. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know. You shot the driver, Jessie. You killed the man who left your sister for dead. You’re a murderer. A wanted man.’
Chapter Seven
Jessie shook his head. ‘No.’ That’s impossible. I’m no killer. ‘You’re wrong!’
‘Don’t deny it, not to me.’ His mother’s voice cracked. ‘You’ve been on the run from the authorities. They’re looking for you.’
Footsteps resounded along the hallway. A grey-haired man with red-rimmed eyes and a receding hairline approached, a flecked brown and gold robe belted over his slight frame. He froze on seeing them. ‘Jessie? Son, what are you doing here?’
Jessie stared and stared, blinking when his vision swam. ‘Dad?’
His mother pressed a hand to her brow. ‘What’s going on, Jessie? Of course it’s your dad. He’s been worried sick about you. We both have.’ Her eyes widened. ‘My god, you’re not on drugs, are you?’
Tara stepped closer to him at his stunned silence. ‘Are you okay?’ she whispered.
No. No I’m not. I’m a killer. And the dad I’ve never known didn’t abandon me, at least not here, in this life.
The fact other dimensions did indeed exist suddenly paled in comparison to the fact he had a dad. He swallowed. To the fact he’d killed a man.
