Parallel Roads

by Mel Teshco

  Rescuing Lolita.

  The voice in his head sent a frisson of apprehension down his spine. He ignored it, and croaked, ‘I’m not sure.’

  Tara released a slow breath, before methodically going through her CD rack. ‘The rest of the CDs are the same.’ She chose an artist and inserted the disc into the player. Seconds later a slow, crooning song he’d never heard before warbled from the speakers.

  Her touch on his shoulder startled him. ‘Dance with me?’ she whispered.

  He’d never really been much of a dancer, but for this woman he couldn’t say no. Hell, he’d tap dance over hot coals if she asked. He got to his feet. ‘Of course.’

  It was no great effort to take her in his arms and move slowly to the seductive beat of the song, the velvet darkness of night already settling around them and making the glow of the candle a much more intimate setting.

  He bent his head, nuzzling her ear a little and breathing in her sweet fragrance. His hands tightened at her waist. He’d never get enough of Tara, not for as long as he lived.

  Her arms lifted and her fingers laced behind his neck. She rested one side of her face against his chest, his heart. And in that moment, he felt as though he’d been granted the most precious and wondrous thing he could have asked for.

  Her trust.

  He had no idea how long they swayed from side-to-side, soaking in the music, the atmosphere and each other. But the last song on the disc eventually came to an end before they separated, Tara looking as dazed as he felt.

  ‘I think I might go for a shower,’ she said, her features shadowy and yet clearly strained.

  I’ll join you.

  He bit back the rejoinder. The last thing he wanted was to pressure her. Not when he was aware her feelings for him had deepened and she was still sorting through them. She’d need space, especially in light of everything else she had to come to terms with since meeting him.

  Nothing was what it seemed anymore.

  He nodded. ‘I’ll make us a drink.’ Something strong.

  She smiled. ‘Thanks. That sounds wonderful.’

  He wasn’t hungry for food anymore, but took some bites of his sandwich anyway. He’d need to keep up his strength. Then he poured them each a Scotch and dry in two tall glasses with ice. He took his glass with him while he wandered back to the lounge room and waited for Tara. He’d finish his drink, take a quick shower, and get some sleep.

  A photo on the television unit caught his attention. He took another slug of his drink before picking up the framed snap and staring at it.

  Tara and an older woman. A frown scored his brow. He knew immediately it was her mother before she’d fallen ill, their blonde looks were remarkably similar. But that wasn’t what held him captivated. Tara’s mother was disconcertingly familiar.

  His frown deepened. He knew her from somewhere, he was almost certain. But where and when exactly he’d met her, he couldn’t recall.

  ‘That’s Vera, my mum.’

  Tara’s voice from behind had him jerk almost guiltily back to the present. He put the photo carefully back where he’d found it, and then turned to face her.

  God, she looked positively angelic with her towel-dried, mussed-up hair and glowing skin. And more than a little bit naughty in her miniscule cream and floral print nightie with its hem skimming the top of her thighs and a neckline that dipped into her cleavage.

  His cock jerked. He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t snooping.’

  Her lips pinched tight. ‘Of course you weren’t. It never even crossed my mind.’

  He scraped a hand over his jaw, feeling like a dumb-arse and wanting only to take her in his arms. Instead, he tipped the drink to his mouth and allowed the rest of its warmth to spread into his gut.

  Returning his glass to the kitchen counter, he strode towards her and clasped her forearms, then bent to kiss her hard on the lips. Hell, some things just couldn’t be denied, and if just one taste of her this night was all he’d get, he’d go to sleep a happy man.

  Only when she softened a little in his arms did he pull back, his eyes searching hers. But whatever her thoughts, she hid them well. He stifled a sigh. ‘Your drink’s poured. I’m off for a long, cold shower.’

  An hour later, after much tossing and turning beside Tara, whose head had hit the pillow and hadn’t moved since, he climbed out of bed. His body was beyond weary but his mind whirled with an endless cycle of questions and what ifs.

  If his other self had already met the Tara in this dimension, why was Lolita dead? Had his other self failed to protect his sister, or simply not known of her coming death? Perhaps he’d met Tara after the tragedy of his sister’s death? After he’d shot and killed Lolita’s murderer?

  Was there some other reason his and Tara’s other selves weren’t around? Or was it physically impossible for two sets of themselves to be in the one dimension? Did the old house somehow hold their other selves until their new selves went inside? Or were there so many dimensions there was always one set of them going inside and one set leaving at the same time?

  He massaged his temples before moving to the window and pushing aside the split net curtains. The streetlight and a half moon illuminated the pub’s full car park. It looked as though it would be a big night for Harrison. Good. At least he’d be distracted. And with any luck, come early morning, Tatts—or perhaps he wasn’t inked in this dimension—would be sound asleep while he and Tara slipped down the road and did a little breaking and entering.

  Leaving Tara to her sound sleep, he left the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Flicking on the kitchen light, he poured another Scotch, straight this time, and as though compelled, he went to reinvestigate the portrait of Tara and her mother.

  Age hadn’t dimmed Vera’s natural beauty, one that her daughter had inherited. But still, he imagined she’d blend easily in the crowd, someone he’d not give a second thought about. Hell, he barely gave a thought about anything except his growing business.

  So where had he seen Vera?

  Had his other self met her in this dimension and the residual memory had carried over somehow? Not unlike the service station attendant who’d never met Jessie, but had experienced a weird sense of déjà vu on seeing him for the first time.

  Bloody hell. One question created ten more until the questions became infinite and the answers were never really answered.

  ‘Can’t sleep?’

  He spun around at Tara’s soft-with-sleep voice behind him.

  ‘Not really,’ he admitted.

  ‘Too much on your mind,’ she said, moving towards him and into his arms. Right where she belonged.

  His little sigh stirred the hairs at the top of her scalp. ‘Yeah.’

  She looked up. ‘You know, we could as easily do what we have to do now instead of tomorrow. I’ve had enough sleep so that I can drive for some hours while you sleep.’

  His hands tightened at her waist. Leaving hours before dawn might well be the difference between saving Lolita or not. ‘I think that sounds like the best plan yet,’ he said softly.

  She nodded, before standing on tiptoes to reach up and press a kiss to his lips. She dropped back to her normal height. ‘Then let’s do it.’

  It took no more than fifteen minutes to dress, repack their clothes into the backpack, grab some water bottles and their pre-packed lunch—and of course, the money packet—and stash it into the car.

  Tara retrieved the flashlight from the glove compartment before they walked the short distance to the second-hand shop. In the dim light cast by the moon and a far-off street lamp, he could just make out the lone chair among the other refuse.

  He tried the door first, making certain it was locked. Then, while he decided between breaking the glass and kicking down the door as the quieter option, Tara lifted the flashlight and smacked it hard across the display window. Glass shards immediately rained down, shattering across the pavement and inside the shop.

  She bit into her bottom lip as she looked at
him. ‘Sorry, just trying to save some time.’

  He nodded. She was right. Time wasn’t something they had in plentiful supply. Taking the flashlight from her, he smashed the remaining stubborn bits of glass and stepped inside, glass crunching underfoot.

  He tipped the chair back and flicked on the beam, playing the light on the one word underneath—his handwriting—before saying out loud, ‘Belong.’

  ‘Is that it?’ Tara asked in a loud whisper, her voice all but vibrating with repressed emotion.

  He turned back to Tara, who’d become a shadowy silhouette behind his flashlight’s beam. Ignoring a sudden shiver, he pieced together the words. ‘Choose where you belong.’

  He cut the beam and straightened, before gingerly crunching his way back to where she waited and taking hold of her hand.

  ‘You need to choose which dimension you belong in,’ she said slowly, as if allowing the very idea to roll around her consciousness.

  ‘That’s what I’m thinking too.’

  What else could it possibly mean?

  He squeezed her hand. ‘I have no doubt I belong in my own dimension, but with you by my side, if you’ll have me?’

  ‘I can’t imagine being with anyone else,’ she said in a small voice, as though saying the revelation out loud scared her more than she wanted to admit.

  Though it wasn’t a declaration of love, it was a start. He could build on it. Make her face what he’d once thought was his biggest fear. Commitment. Turned out his falling for her had changed all that. He only hoped it was a matter of time before Tara came to the same realisation.

  ‘I can live with that,’ he said huskily.

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, he said in an undertone, ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  They almost made it to the Hummer before Harrison yelled out, ‘Tara, is that you? My god, are you okay?’

  Jessie turned with Tara to face Harrison and three other men as they strode across the road, their postures stiff and wary.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Tara said smoothly. ‘We thought we heard something. But there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around.’

  ‘Sounded like glass to me,’ one of the men said belligerently, his hard stare resting on Jessie.

  ‘Who’s your friend?’ Harrison asked, an edge in his voice. ‘Is this the same guy you ran off with the other week?’

  Jessie bristled at the other man’s tone. A fact made somehow worse by the ink on Harrison’s skin, which reminded him too vividly of the Tatts who’d committed arson and attempted murder. ‘My name’s Jessie. And yes, I guess I am the one she left town with.’

  Tatts sneered, then spat on the ground. ‘You might drive a big fancy car but you ain’t worth shit around these parts.’

  The man who’d spoken earlier stepped forward, clearly itching for a fight. ‘Yeah. Money don’t protect a person here.’

  ‘Harrison, tell your dickhead friends to back off,’ Tara said quietly.

  Tatts turned to her, pain cutting through his voice. ‘What happened to you, Tara? I thought we were good together. And then you up and leave me for this … this rich motherfucking pansy.’ His eyes glittered overly bright. ‘And what about your mother? You used to visit her in the nursing home every weekend. She’s worried about you too.’

  Tara’s chin rose, but Jessie perceived her guilt even before she said defensively, ‘She’ll get a visit from me, real soon no doubt.’ She clasped Jesse’s forearm. ‘Let’s go.’

  Harrison stepped forward and his friends followed, alcohol fumes heavy in the air.

  Jessie moved Tara’s hand from his arm and pushed her behind him. He raised his fists, his elbows low, ready to defend and attack.

  Until Tara stepped around him with one hand raised. Jessie’s mouth dropped open. The streetlight gave out enough light to throw off the distinct metallic glint of a gun.

  Her chin tilted. ‘Back the fuck off before one of you heroes gets a bullet.’ Her arm stayed steady, her focus unwavering. ‘Believe me when I say I’ve got nothing to lose.’

  Jessie knew, with his boxing training and fitness regime, he might have had a chance in taking on perhaps two of them before things turned ugly. She’d just evened the odds rather nicely.

  He grinned. Clearly the gun had been stashed once again in the glove compartment of his Hummer in this dimension. Tara had taken advantage of its being there at the best possible time.

  Her words come back to him then. Who knows, perhaps we were meant to have them?

  Perhaps she’d been right.

  Harrison put his hands up. ‘Okay. Okay. No need to get upset.’ He backed up a couple of steps, his mates moving right along with him. ‘Just don’t say I didn’t warn you about your … friend.’

  Once Harrison and his goons disappeared towards the hotel, Jessie and Tara didn’t hang around. Within seconds they were in the SUV. Jessie gunned the engine and reversed out, Tara’s face pale but determined, with the gun tight in her hands. Only when they were miles down the road did she return the weapon to the glove compartment, right next to the money packet.

  Jessie released a long, slow breath. ‘I had no idea the gun was in there again.’

  Tara turned towards him. ‘Neither did I, until I went in search of the flashlight. It really does seem as though we were meant to have it.’

  ‘Providence?’

  ‘Yeah. I think so. A bit like us meeting.’

  He reached over, his hand snaring hers. Tara was right. If their other selves had indeed met in this dimension, it was too big a coincidence to think they weren’t destined to come together.

  Her fingers curled through his and she sent a warm smile his way. He sent one back. Their connection seemed to ground him and bring him back from the unreality that had taken over his life. And to think he’d once imagined that his restaurants and life as a celebrity chef had been enough.

  It was only when the little dirt road came up ahead that he released her hand to take full control of the steering wheel. He swung into the track, his gut clenching at the thoughts of what lay ahead. He could only hope they’d find his dimension, making this the last time they’d have to make the trip to the old house.

  ‘Watch out!’

  He pushed a foot on the brakes and swerved as an echidna bustled across the road, its spines rattling and looking too sharp for his liking. The last thing they needed was a punctured tire and having to walk along the dark, creepy track for miles.

  He blew out a steadying breath and gripped the steering wheel, his head lolling against the seat. ‘Sorry to give you a fright.’ He glanced her way, her profile dim under the dash lights. ‘I guess I’d better quit daydreaming.’

  She put a hand on his thigh, her touch soothing. ‘I think you need sleep more than anything. Once we’re back in another dimension, I’ll drive and you can sleep.’

  ‘Is that an order, ma’am?’

  Her teeth were a slash of white in the semi-darkness. ‘Yes. I believe it is.’

  He nodded, glad she was happy to share the driving. Putting the SUV back into gear, he continued along the track.

  Destination unknown.

  Chapter Eleven

  The little old house appeared from out of the darkness as though an apparition. A vision that carried a taint of something … menacing.

  Jessie repressed a shiver. So much for his being attuned to the place. Besides, the house wasn’t haunted, at least not that he was aware. It was more a conduit to other dimensions, far scarier than anything haunted.

  If he wasn’t diligent, he could easily fall prey to his own fear. And he had Tara to consider, though he had a feeling she was much stronger than she even knew herself. He’d take a leaf out of Tara’s book. He’d turn his fear into anticipation. Then he’d take the reins and control his own destiny.

  ‘Here we go again,’ Tara said softly, as he pulled the SUV up at the house and cut the engine.

  Without the headlights, the old, abandoned dwelling really did look haunted. He sucked in a
breath and nodded slowly. ‘Yep. Let’s hope it’s for the last time.’

  She leaned forwards and opened the glove compartment, withdrawing the flashlight and flicking it on, before taking out the money packet and then the gun. She held up the latter. ‘Do you want to take this with us now?’

  He shrugged. ‘Why not? Hell, I’m a wanted man now anyway.’

  ‘Wow. Your attitude’s changed for the better.’ She kept a straight face for perhaps another second or two, and then burst into a fit of giggles. ‘I’m in love with a criminal.’

  His voice momentarily caught in his throat. Then, ‘What?’

  She turned to him, her eyes wide, stricken. ‘Sorry Jessie, I didn’t … I don’t …’

  Hurt pummelled his heart, taking away even residual fear. ‘Don’t worry about it. I understand.’

  It had been a throwaway line. She didn’t love him. Though for one magical second or two he’d truly believed she did. Fuck he was a fool. She cared about him, yes, but love didn’t enter the equation. Sleeping with someone rarely meant you loved them.

  He should know.

  He grimaced. Karma was a bitch sometimes, though he probably deserved every bit of the payback.

  He turned to Tara, his voice carefully monotonic. ‘Are you ready?’

  She bit into her bottom lip, and then whispered, ‘Yes.’

  ***

  Tara hated herself in that moment. Hated that the three words she’d planned to say in a heartfelt way had been uttered as if in joke. His shock had her all but deny the precious feelings she had for him, and she didn’t know how to backtrack and tell him the truth. Not without it sounding as if it was a lie.

  Not a great way to start the next dimension.

  She climbed out of the Hummer. Tucking the money packet into the waistband of her jeans, she checked the gun’s safety mechanism was on before she slid the weapon into her pocket. After holding the flashlight steady while Jessie retrieved the backpack and the food hamper they’d packed for the road, she reached into the truck and grabbed the last two essentials. Her lipstick and clutch purse.