by Mel Teshco
Harrison had nothing on the crimes Jessie had apparently committed.
As that detail registered he continued to stare at his father, memorising the man who stood before him, the man who appeared to be a decent, honourable person. In another life, this was the same man who’d caused his wife to turn to the bottle after he’d abandoned his own family.
Jessie dragged his gaze from his father and turned to Tara. She looked worried. He forced a smile and a shrug. ‘I’ll survive.’
When he turned back, he assessed his mother. Even grief-stricken she looked fit and healthy, as though life had been good to her up until her daughter had been taken away from her. Until her own son had committed murder.
His father stepped forwards, his eyes filled with a paternal concern that revealed a scarcely hidden sorrow. ‘Son, you should go.’
Up close to the old man, Jessie had to swallow back a wave of longing, intense and raw. Burning jealousy of his ‘self’ in this life flared within. He’d have done anything to have a father guide him, to shield him from responsibilities. Someone he could look up to. Because right then he knew his dad really cared … more than cared.
He nodded. ‘Yes. I suppose I should.’
Tara stepped aside at his mother’s muffled cry, before she flung her arms around him, her flowery, talcum powder scent filling his nose as she said feebly, ‘Stay safe, Jessie. No matter what happens, I’ll love you always.’
The burning within moved up his throat. ‘I love you too, Mum.’
His dad pulled him into a bear hug next. ‘Love you, Son.’ When he pulled back, a tear rolled down his leathery, whiskered cheek. ‘And I’m proud of you—I really am.’
‘Frank, no!’
At his wife’s horrified reaction, Frank turned towards her and said hoarsely, ‘Nothing will bring our daughter back, we both know that. But that unrepentant bastard, Cameron Dawson, got what he deserved. He really did.’
Jessie closed his eyes. The name of the man who killed his sister would be forever etched into his mind.
His dad turned back to Jessie, face hardening with bitterness. ‘Now go. Before the neighbours ring the cops.’ Jessie nodded. His dad looked at Tara and nodded approval. ‘Take care of my boy, won’t you.’
It wasn’t a question, but Tara answered anyway. ‘I’ll do whatever it takes.’
Jessie overflowed with emotions needing release, and yet he was numb all over. He didn’t recall walking back to the Hummer, but suddenly he was there, ushered into the passenger seat by Tara before she took the driver’s position.
He sat, staring unseeingly out the windshield as Tara reversed and then drove from the direction they’d come.
Tara blew out a ragged breath. ‘I think we should get rid of this vehicle.’
In his peripheral, the streetlights flashed across her taut face. He forced himself to think, to breathe. To respond. ‘No.’ Calmness descended with the decision. ‘I’ve always had the Hummer waiting for me outside the old house. If I break that one constant, I’m not sure how it would affect things.’
‘Like breaking the link in a chain?’
He nodded. ‘Exactly.’
She nodded. ‘Then we travel the back roads of Sydney.’
‘Yes. Only … there’s one more place I’d like to stop first.’
As he directed her to his—somebody’s—mansion, he deliberated over the fact he was a wanted man. A murderer. It was unfathomable. He’d heard it said that anyone was capable of murder under the right—wrong?—conditions. Hysteria built in his gut. It seemed he’d just proven that theory correct.
Instructing Tara to pull opposite the house he’d once called home, a house he’d worked damn hard to obtain, he wondered why he didn’t feel more a sense of loss. Perhaps because in his ‘normal’ life the house was still his? He’d have everything the way it was, including his sister alive and well.
Except then his mother would be dead again and his father nowhere to be found.
Tara flicked off the headlights and cut the engine before she craned her head and followed his stare. The gentle glow of streetlights managed to showcase the exclusive neighbourhood. ‘That’s your place?’
He nodded. ‘It is … was.’
‘Then we shouldn’t be here. The police—’
‘Won’t expect me here.’ He raked a hand through his hair, feeling old beyond his years. ‘In the last dimension, I was a drug addict. I’m certain things haven’t changed all that much in this one … I wouldn’t own a house like this.’
Yeah, I’m a real success story.
‘In fact, I’m guessing I’m the worst kind of criminal, considering the gun and money in my car.’ And then there was the little thing called murder.
‘Well, I mightn’t have known you in the other dimensions, but I know you’re a good man.’ Her eyes flared as she looked at him. ‘I’ve known enough people to understand when someone is truly bad inside. As far as I’m concerned you were a good man reduced to desperate measures.’ She unsnapped her seat belt. ‘I’m going to find out who lives here.’
***
Tara let loose a relieved breath when Jessie didn’t try and stop her. And as she stepped across the road she realised she’d had enough of being manipulated.
There’d been her mother, who had expected her to run the restaurant till the day she died. Even when her mother’s faculties had gone and she’d forgotten who her own daughter was, she’d still managed to recount the most trivial anecdotes about the business.
Then there was Harrison, who’d clung to their supposed relationship so that no one else could have her. She could scarcely believe the bastard had even attempted murder to keep it that way.
No, she’d take the gentleman lover, who’d been accused of killing his sister’s hit-and-run driver, any day over living life fulfilling someone else’s selfish needs.
Her scuffs crunched across the loose gravel at the top of an impressive, wide driveway that was lit up either side with solar lights. More lights inked the far-off water of what she imagined would be stunning views of the harbour and its many ferries, boats and yachts.
She took a deep breath of the salt-laden breeze that caused her skirt to flutter against her thighs. She wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t second-guess herself. She was no longer a downtrodden waitress and cook trying to pull a sinking business from its bog hole while supporting her dying mother. No longer a woman more than a little scared of a man who wouldn’t give her up.
Not anymore.
She was a woman enlightened. A woman with her whole life ahead of her. Excited. Scared. And liberated.
With Jessie, anything was possible.
She was already a little in love, with Jessie.
She froze at the doorstep and closed her eyes. Dear lord. Was it even possible to nurture such strong feelings in so short a time? She’d never been a believer in love at first sight, but this was surely close to it? Is that why she’d thrown Jessie’s words back in his face when he’d been open and honest, expressing his true feelings? Had she already been running scared?
She was all kinds of stupid. She wanted nothing more than to start her life anew and yet she was already about to fall into a pattern of distrust, self-doubt and self-sabotage.
No. More.
A motion sensor lit up the front exterior of the house and she raised a hand and rapped on the solid wood door with its smoky bevelled glass panels.
After long minutes, a light flicked on inside and a middle-aged woman answered the door with bleary eyes. A wiry dog pushed through the owner’s legs and took up with a relentless yapping as she asked, ‘Yes? What do you want?’
‘Hi, I’m so sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for someone called Jessie. I think he lives here?’
The lady snorted exasperation and bent to pick up her dog. She held the overly vocal dog up to Tara. ‘He’s the only Jessie who lives here, and believe me he’s more than enough trouble.’
‘Oh.’ Tara smiled, despite the seriousness of the
situation. ‘Then I apologise again for wasting your time.’
The door slammed shut before Tara had even turned away. She shrugged, murmuring, ‘One door shuts, another one opens.’
She shivered at the philosophy that rang true in every way. Somehow she couldn’t help but feel blessed that Jessie had come into her life, despite the hurdles they faced in this dimension and probably many more to come. From the moment they’d met he’d swept her into the whirlwind that was his life. It was one hell of a wild ride and sure beat the drudgery of trying to make ends meet.
Jessie stood by the Hummer when she crossed the road. Her heart fluttered at the sight of the man who’d changed her life in such a huge way and she couldn’t resist a giggle that was probably as much hysteria as humour when she told him, ‘In this dimension, the only Jessie living at your house is of the four-legged variety.’
Under the street lamp his sombre face broke into a tired grin. ‘I’m glad at least one Jessie is enjoying the house.’
‘Yes, though I’m not sure even that Jessie is really welcome there.’ She touched his arm, serious again. ‘So what now?’
His smile dissolved, his stare gleaming. ‘Do you think you’re up for another long drive?’
‘The house?’
He nodded, and took her hands in his. ‘My sister isn’t in this dimension, but in my own she still is. I want to keep it that way.’
She bit the inside of her lip and repressed a little shiver. He wanted to make sure the dimensions he’d visited weren’t a pattern, a sequence of events that might be fated to repeat in his own world. Like a ripple spreading into other dimensions. She leaned into him, reassured by his hard warmth, his strength and his integrity as she answered, ‘We’re in this together, remember?’
***
Jessie’s breath caught, and he knew without a doubt this woman was the one for him. He’d do whatever it took to keep her; to please her. Hell, he’d sell all twenty-three restaurants and buy her an island if that was what she wanted.
He stiffened. He wouldn’t have made the same sacrifice for Mercedes. Not in a million years. So what did that say for his apparent love for his ex? More importantly, just how deep were his feelings for Tara?
Tara looked up with a little frown, and he dropped a kiss to her brow before he said hoarsely, ‘Together always.’ It was a sentiment that touched something deep inside him.
Her frown dissolved, her eyes glinting. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
‘I hope that you do.’
She moved away from him and stepped towards the Hummer, and Jessie flicked a look at his watch. He shook his head. The expensive piece of junk still wasn’t working. He headed to the passenger seat. He didn’t need to know what time of the day it was, he just needed to get back to his sister as fast as possible.
Tara took first shift at the wheel and Jessie’s eyes grew heavy within minutes.
His dreams were muddled and terrifying.
In one, his sister was again in the roof of the old house and hanging from the edge of the ceiling’s manhole. Their mother sat on the chair in the room below, staring straight ahead and drinking her cheap alcohol while Lolita’s cries for help fell on deaf ears.
Jessie reached out, clutching at his sister’s hands that were slippery with blood and impossible to keep hold. And just when he lost grip, his dream became something else.
Blood and glass gleamed beside the twisted and broken woman sprawled unmoving on the road. For a long moment he couldn’t breathe. But then a crow cawed out loudly and Jessie’s lungs filled with air.
He woke with his screams echoing in his head. Sweat slicked his cold skin and his heart hammered behind his rib cage. He straightened, swiping his brow with an unsteady hand.
Dawn was a vague hint of orange-pink in the dark sky. White lines on the tarmac flashed by under the headlights. A dead wallaby lay on its side ahead, hit by an earlier vehicle. Tara swerved around it at the last moment, jerking him fully conscious.
He turned to her, his breath catching. ‘Shit, Tara. Why didn’t you wake me? You look shattered.’
She swiped a hand across her eyes. ‘Sorry. You didn’t even stir when I fuelled at the last stop, so I figured you needed your sleep.’
‘Yeah, I probably did. And now you need yours.’
Tara nodded jerkily, as if that action alone was beyond her strength. She pulled to the edge of the road. When she climbed out, Jessie strode around the SUV to meet her halfway, pulling her into his arms.
She sighed against his chest, and he gathered her even closer, aware her body was limp with fatigue. He kissed the top of her head, her hair silken-soft. ‘Why don’t you lie down on the back seat and have a proper rest? I’ll take over the driving for a while now.’
Jessie hadn’t driven more than five minutes when he checked the rear-view mirror, to see Tara stretched out on the back seat and deep asleep. His chest fairly ached at seeing her so vulnerable and alone. He wanted to take her in his arms, let her know she’d never be alone again, never have to face the burden of financial strain. Not if he had a say in it.
He brushed a hand over his face, allowing other thoughts to crowd in his head while he drove the last few hours towards Mirraway.
The place his life had irrevocably changed.
What else was different in this dimension? Were the restaurants he’d bought, rebuilt and refurbished still standing? Had he worked as a chef before he’d committed murder? What did his parents do for money?
And then it hit him. Tara hadn’t once asked to find her mother, whose health apparently wasn’t an issue and who now lived in the wonder of ‘till death do us part’ in Sydney.
He glanced in the mirror at her again. Her lashes fanned her cheeks and he thought he could hear soft little snores pushing through her parted mouth. His heart lurched with feelings he could barely contain. He really was a selfish bastard to keep her all to himself while expecting her to accept come what may.
She deserved so much more.
Why hadn’t she asked to see her mother? Did the thought of seeing her healthy and vital, after being so ill, scare her? Tara had obviously accepted her mother’s condition a long time ago, and to be faced with something else entirely would defy all logic, all belief.
He should know.
Seeing his mother again had been like facing her ghost—a much nicer version.
Yes. Sometimes even the bad stuff in life was welcome after having no choice but to accept it and learn to live with it. But one thing he wouldn’t accept was his sister’s death, not while there was breath in his lungs and blood pumping through his veins.
When he finally pulled in front of Tara’s building, he turned to see her already stirring. ‘We’re here,’ he said.
‘The house?’ she mumbled.
‘No. Not yet. We’re at your place.’
She opened her eyes, relief etching her tired face. ‘Thank god. I am in serious need of a hot shower.’
‘Mm. And a comfortable bed wouldn’t go astray.’
She grinned. ‘Let’s not forget the free accommodation.’
He nodded. His credit cards were likely useless in this dimension. And all his cash had gone into the Hummer’s inexhaustible fuel tank. But he was reluctant, beyond reluctant, to use the money they’d found with the gun.
Still, the bantering back and forth helped him push aside memories of the dream, and even the revolting thoughts of him being a wanted man. A murderer. He’d yet to fully accept he could do such a thing, in any dimension. Yet to accept his sister was dead.
Yeah, but she’s not. Not where I’m from.
He wanted to keep it that way.
When Tara dug out her key and headed for the front door, he locked the SUV and slowly followed, ignoring the persistent ache in his leg as well as an urge to do something about the gun; the money.
He’d be long gone before any such incriminating evidence could be used against him. No doubt in the next dimension neither the gun nor money would exist.<
br />
Tara waited for him once she’d unlocked the door. She reached out and clasped his hand, entering the restaurant together. A united front. Upstairs, she poured them each a whiskey and Coke over ice, before sinking beside him on the lounge. Handing him the drink she murmured, ‘So, what is your gut feeling on everything that’s happened?’
He took a mouthful. ‘Honestly … I feel as though I was meant to get lost and find the house.’
Ice clinked as Tara sipped her drink, looking thoughtful. ‘I feel as though you were meant to find me too.’ She shrugged. ‘If you hadn’t found that house, you wouldn’t have found me.’
He had the old mechanic—whose directions had obviously not been clear—to thank for that. ‘Fate?’
‘I think so, yes.’
He leaned forward, wrapping a hand over her thigh. ‘What about your mother? Did you want to see her before we leave here and enter the next dimension?’
She took an extra big mouthful of her drink, her eyes sad. ‘I’m not really a part of her happiness here, am I? She’s managed just fine without me—well, with my other “self”—in this dimension.’ She twisted round to face him, her expression imploring. ‘Does that make sense?’
‘It does. Of course it does. And maybe the less we interfere with our other selves in each dimension, the better.’
She nodded. ‘I’m going to assume that whenever we’re in a new dimension, our other selves are no longer around.’
‘Yeah, I think you’re right. In fact, I’m guessing it’s impossible for more than one of us to be around at the same time. Perhaps our other selves are going into the house we’ve left behind, visiting another dimension?’
Her eyes looked huge in her face. ‘We did hear a voice somewhere inside.’
Shivers trekked up and down his spine. ‘Yes.’ He drained the last of his whiskey, glad of the burn sliding down his throat and into his belly. He looked at her over his glass, distracted for a moment by her beauty, her innocence. Her trust.
‘What are you thinking?’ she whispered.
How beautiful you are. How much I need you.
