by Mel Teshco
Melinda’s uncertainty pulsed down the line, before she said stiffly, ‘She’s at Piper’s Motel.’
What the hell?
He closed his eyes for a second or two, trying hard not to break out in a cold sweat. There was only one reason a local woman would use a nearby motel. ‘Who is she with?’ he asked.
‘That’s something she’d probably prefer to tell you herself.’
‘Yes, I guess she might.’ He released a heavy breath. ‘Thanks for your help.’
At Melinda’s small-voiced goodbye, he disconnected the call. He felt at a sudden loss, as though he was standing in the shadow of a great big monster he had no hope of defeating.
A sudden caw broke into his melancholy. He peered up at the sky, but it was a seagull wheeling through the air, not the blue-black, one-eyed crow he’d half-expected to see.
With a sigh, he dialled the operator who then put him through to Piper’s Motel. The receptionist of the motel then transferred him again, and not even a minute later he was listening to the ring of an in-room phone.
A man answered on the third chime. ‘Hello.’
‘Hi, this is Jessie McCormick.’ He wouldn’t be issuing any pleasantries. ‘I need to speak to my sister.’
If the man was shocked that Jessie had discovered their love nest, he didn’t reveal it. ‘Sure. Here she is.’
Jessie’s knuckles whitened on the phone as he heard the stranger tell Lolita that her brother was on the phone.
‘Jessie?’ Her startled voice sounded both delighted and anxious. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Seems I should be asking you the same thing?’
He knew he was being overprotective. For god’s sake, Lolli was twenty-two, he had no right to interfere.
Her voice sharpened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? My god, Jessie, I’m not a child anymore. I can see who I want to see. Fuck who I damn well want to fuck.’
His gut tightened at her words. ‘Is he married?’ Her almost pained gasp told him all he needed to know. ‘Christ, Lolli. You could have anyone—’
‘He’s filing for divorce.’
Yeah. And I’m the tooth fairy.
He contained his grief, his fury. Never mind the affair, her life was still on the line. ‘Look, we need to talk.’
‘I’m not leaving Michael.’
He filed the name away in his memory banks. ‘It’s not about that,’ he said tightly. Not yet. ‘There’s … stuff I need to tell you. Things you might not believe.’
‘If it’s about your no-show at the Brisbane restaurant, I already know.’
Jessie frowned at the fact his sister considered that so unbelievable. His frown deepened on hearing her lover murmur sweet nothings in the background, followed by Lolita’s husky little giggle.
The bastard was turning her on while he was trying to save her damn neck! ‘Look, let’s meet somewhere for lunch, midday,’ he suggested.
His priority was to keep her away from the streets after dark, when people partied and consumed drinks. And where his dream had featured the dark and gloomy streets, where his sister’s twisted and dead body lay unmoving on the road.
‘Where?’ she asked, her voice muffled and distant.
Bloody hell. She was fast losing interest in the conversation.
He rattled off the name of a little café he knew close to the motel she was presently at. She agreed to meet him, and then the dial tone greeted his ear.
His jaw clenched. Seemed Lolita was still finding herself and where she fit in the world. He let loose with a pent-up sigh. He couldn’t do much about his sister’s choices in men. And right then he had more important things to worry about, like keeping Lolita and Tara alive.
The scent of fried bacon wafted his way. His belly growled, reminding him that he still needed to eat and keep up his strength.
Beatrice looked up with a knowing smile as he entered the kitchen. ‘I thought you might be hungry.’
‘Thanks, I sure am.’
She cracked an egg into the pan and gave him a concerned once-over. ‘You’ve lost weight.’
He had?
‘What can I say? It’s been a stressful few days.’
He seemed to be saying that a lot lately. But Beatrice didn’t comment, thankfully. She’d always been good at minding her own business and getting done what needed to be done.
When the toast popped, Jessie turned and headed towards the staircase. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Tara lay unmoving, her face showing perhaps a little more colour than it had earlier. He stepped towards the bed and picked up her cool hand. ‘I need to get you back into your own dimension,’ he said quietly, resolve steeling his spine.
No matter how much he wished otherwise, she didn’t belong in his world … in this world.
Did he belong in hers?
If he couldn’t imagine life without her in his own dimension, then maybe he could live in hers. Maybe they could make a new start together.
Choose where you belong.
It was all starting to make too much sense.
‘I love you,’ he said softly.
Her lashes flickered briefly and her eyes opened. She smiled, focused on him and then said hoarsely, ‘I love you too.’
When she immediately fell back asleep, her breathing even and broken every now and then by a little snore, something within him ached to hear her say those words to him every day for the rest of their lives. It was up to him now to make that happen.
Back downstairs he devoured his breakfast along with two cups of coffee. Dead tired and yet wired all at the same time, he made use of his home gym. Pressing weights, followed by a long run on the treadmill and then a round with the punching bag, left him in a lather of sweat. A pity it didn’t stop the usual thoughts and questions from spinning around and around in his head.
What were his other selves doing right now? Was Tara alive in any other dimensions aside from the one where they’d escaped the fire? If he stayed in another dimension after this one, would one of his other selves choose to stay here in his place?
He caught the punching bag, holding onto it while his breath rasped in and out of his lungs. Every muscle screamed abuse after he’d been sitting stagnant in the driver’s seat of his Hummer most of the last week.
Guess he could only be grateful his leg was back to normal.
Tara was still asleep when he entered his bedroom once again. He stared at her for long minutes, emotions pulling at him every which way. God he loved her. He couldn’t lose her. He had to get her home, and soon.
Minutes later he was showered and dressed. Striding downstairs and outside to his driveway, he opened the Hummer and retrieved the backpack, along with the gun from the glove compartment where Tara had left it. Carrying them inside, he stuffed the gun in among his and Tara’s garments and underwear in the backpack, along with Tara’s clutch purse.
It was midmorning when he finally woke Tara. She came to slowly, her eyes blinking up at him as comprehension dawned.
‘Sorry to wake you,’ he said gently. ‘But I thought you might like a shower and to freshen up first before we meet my sister for lunch.’
Sleep fell off her at his words. ‘You found your sister?’ she asked huskily.
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
Not quite under the circumstances he’d hoped, but at least she was alive.
‘Jessie, that’s wonderful.’
She clambered out of bed, but swayed a little on obviously unsteady legs. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, ‘Guess I should wake up properly first.’
While she chose an outfit from the walk-in robe and made use of the bathroom, Jessie phoned ahead and booked a table at the café where they’d meet his sister. Tara stepped back in the bedroom wearing a classy black skirt that was short at the front and long at the back, with a red and black polka-dot blouse, which though stunning on her, seemed to sit a little loose on her more slender frame.
She ran a brush through her hair, before tying it into a loose kn
ot at her neck. And though she had a bright smile plastered on her face, she still looked decidedly fragile. ‘I’m ready when you are.’
His smile felt more like a wince when he shouldered their backpack and reached for her hand. He’d always been so thankful that he’d found her and shared the journey with her, but now he couldn’t help but wonder if the sacrifice would be too great.
An arrow of uncertainty pierced his confidence. Not only might he lose his sister to whatever the winds of fate decided, he might also lose the love of his life, no matter what he did to try and save them.
Jessie drove through Sydney on automatic, not really registering the cars with horns blaring, the gum-chewing taxi drivers and bleary-eyed truckies. Half his mind was on his sister and the other half on Tara, who seemed frailer by the minute.
He had to find a way to figure things out, and fast.
He parked close to the café where they’d meet Lolita. He turned to Tara. ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’
She nodded. ‘I’m sure. I wouldn’t miss meeting your sister for anything.’
It was a hot, sunny day, with an extra bite of humidity in the air that had his shirt sticking to his body. A young couple walked past hand-in-hand, their faces hidden behind designer sunglasses. A mother pushed a pram at a clipped walk, her bright leotard suggesting she wasn’t simply taking a stroll. A little boy came out of a nearby shop with his mother, an ice-cream cone in his hand and his mouth smeared with chocolate.
Everything seemed so normal, so mundane.
If only the same could be said for everyone he loved in his world.
He pulled a chair out for Tara on the deck that overlooked the street. It also gave a perfect view of the motel entrance a few buildings away on the opposite side of the road. Perhaps he’d get to see the mysterious married man, Michael.
His nostrils flared. How could his sister fall for a man who was committed to another woman? Christ, the bastard probably had a tribe of children, too. Surely Lolita knew better than to fall for a man so obviously unavailable? Surely her childhood hadn’t been so bad that she now deliberately sought out the wrong men?
A waitress approached with recognition lighting her stare. Jessie craved his privacy right then and pretended he didn’t notice. Instead he brusquely ordered two coffees and two chicken and salad wraps.
When the waitress left, Tara asked softly, ‘Does everyone in this dimension know you?’
He nodded, aware that even talking seemed too much for Tara right then. ‘I wonder that myself all too often.’
Tara patted his hand, as if to comfort him, before she pushed her chair back and said, ‘I need to use the ladies room. I’ll be back in a minute.’
He stood, trying not to look too anxious at her exhausted appearance. It seemed sleep no longer held off her illness. He glanced at his watch, forgetting for a moment it wasn’t working. Letting loose a sigh, he glanced back at the motel, willing his sister to make an appearance. But there was still a good twenty minutes before she was due to arrive and it was all he could do to sit still and not march over and get her.
Yeah, the big brother act would be sure to earn him some sisterly love, he thought drily.
‘The coffees won’t be long. In the meantime here’s a bottle of water, Mr McCormick,’ the waitress cooed, ‘and some glasses with ice too.’ Placing the tray on a table behind her, she ripped off a page in her order book and passed it to him. ‘Would you mind signing your autograph for me?’ She grinned. ‘Sara Crane.’
He nodded. ‘Sure thing.’
Sara wouldn’t know that being famous was the last thing he wanted right then. He wanted to fly under the radar and not draw attention to himself. He scrawled a quick, personal message to Sara before signing his name.
The waitress thanked him, then added, ‘The wrap won’t be long either—’
Something crashed. He stood, heart thudding. Not something … someone. ‘Tara,’ he shouted, scrambling past tables and chairs to get to her.
She lay unmoving on the floor, her hair spilling from its bun and surrounding her alabaster face. He shook her gently but she didn’t respond. He looked around at the crowd, his mouth dry and a lump in his throat. ‘Someone call an ambulance.’
Chapter Seventeen
At the hospital, Jessie paced up and down the corridor, waiting for word. Any word on Tara.
He checked the wall clock yet again. Had it really only been a little over fifteen minutes since she’d fallen unconscious to the floor? In all likelihood his sister hadn’t even left the motel to meet for lunch.
A set of doors opened and a doctor stepped through them. He nodded recognition at Jessie and said, ‘I don’t need to ask if you’re the McCormick who came here in the ambulance with Tara.’
Jessie forced a smile. ‘How’s she doing?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘We’ve managed to stabilise her. But although her body seems to be functioning normally, we’ve been unable to get her to respond.’ The doctor stroked his chin. ‘We’re running blood tests and the like, but it’s a little too soon to tell exactly what is going on.’
They didn’t have a clue. And no doubt every test in the world would come back as normal. Jessie blew out a breath and asked, ‘Can I see her?’
The doctor nodded. ‘Of course.’
Jessie entered the room, relieved to see Tara hadn’t yet been hooked up to any machines. God, before that became a distinct possibility he had to get her out of here or he wouldn’t be taking her anywhere.
His chest ached in an all too familiar way, his love for her no longer contained. He bent and pressed a kiss to her cool lips. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ he whispered, ‘I promise.’
He strode out of the hospital, frowning at the sky that was darkening with ominous clouds. The weather almost seemed too fitting for his present state of mind.
He climbed into the first of a trio of taxis lined up at the reserved parking bay out front. Giving the turbaned driver the address of the little café where he was meant to meet his sister, he dragged out his mobile to give her a call.
It went straight to voicemail once again and he disconnected with a curse. Was she still at the motel? His sister had never been one for punctuality, but surely after what he’d told her she’d meet him on time this once?
When the driver stopped at their destination just under ten minutes later, Jessie asked him to wait. The driver nodded, leaving his car on idle and turning his Bollywood music up loud.
Jessie hid a wry smile before he strode to the Hummer and retrieved his backpack, then headed to the café. The place was filling with people, but his sister was nowhere to be found.
The same friendly waitress approached, her face full of concern. ‘Is your friend okay?’
Jessie managed a nod. ‘She’ll be fine.’
Once I get her back into her own dimension.
He shoved a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t suppose you saw a young woman with reddish hair come looking for us? Her name’s Lolita.’
The waitress shook her head. ‘No, sorry.’ She jabbed a thumb in the direction of the building across the road. ‘But if I were you I’d start by looking for her in there.’
He peered at the nondescript building that blended in with the row of old buildings lining the street. ‘It’s a bar?’ he asked, a jolt of foreboding piercing his gut.
She smiled. ‘It sure is. It draws quite a lunch crowd. Unfortunately some of them are regulars who don’t know when to stop drinking—’
He strode out onto the balcony, careless that the waitress probably thought him a rude prick. Her sensitivities were the least of his concern right then. The roiling overhead clouds looked menacing, turning midday into late afternoon as he scanned the street, first the motel and then the bar.
Damn, he was an idiot. Of course Lolita wouldn’t be at the motel, check-out would probably be ten am, or even earlier.
Someone stepped through the bar’s twin doors. His heart rate settled back into rhythm when Lo
lita emerged outside with a man in tow. She turned to her lover, her face lit up with a smile, her long red-gold hair like a beacon in the gloomy weather as the man pulled her to him and gave her a long, drawn-out kiss.
Jessie flicked a disdainful look at the man. Tailored business suit. Immaculately styled blond hair. Above average height. Mid-thirties and self-assured.
Bloody hell. He’d wanted his sister to get away from the imbeciles she’d dated, boys her own age who’d been into drugs and as much sex as they could get. But he’d never expected her to go the other way and find herself a rich, sleazy, older and married man.
Lolita watched the man stride away before she turned and ambled towards the traffic lights, as though she had all the time in the world. Jessie reached for his phone. She’d probably turned hers back on now she was headed his way. He’d tell her to meet him at the taxi out front, and then explain what he could to her on the way to the hospital.
She picked up her phone as she stood at the lights. ‘Hi Jessie, sorry I’m late.’
‘Lolli,’ he said into the mobile, as his ears became attuned to what the chatty waitress was saying to another diner.
‘There’s Dawson again now, drunk as a skunk. How he gets away with driving in that condition I’ll never know.’
The whole world froze. His sister’s repeated ‘hello’ echoed in his ear. His memory rewound to something his father in another dimension had said.
Nothing will bring our daughter back, we both know that. But that unrepentant bastard, Cameron Dawson, got what he deserved. He really did.
Jessie’s breath left his lungs in a spurt. His hand locked on the phone, his stare taking in his sister as she waited at the lights, and the man lurching from the hotel towards an old rust-bucket car parked further down the street.
‘Get away from the road!’ he shouted into his phone, then realised his sister must have disconnected the call and he was talking to thin air.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
His heart thumped in time to his thoughts as he jammed his phone into his pocket and pivoted into a run. He pushed through a group of office workers, and then jumped over a table when another group of lunchtime diners jostled inside the café. His entire focus was on getting to the street and across the road to the man who was about to plough down his sister.
