by S. M. Baker
Chapter Twelve
Bennett stared at the mirror image of himself, splayed across the red velvet chair like a king. After the shock began to wear thin the differences made themselves known in the stray gray hairs scattered throughout his dark locks, and the hard lines etched at the corner of his mouth as well as his fathomless eyes. Staring into them made Bennett feel like he was staring into the eyes of a true king. The man before them looked like Bennett, but beneath the skin lay before them a man alien to them.
“So...” Rubbing the back of his neck, nerves spiked down his spine as Bennett’s older self met his eyes. Age and experience spilled through the years stretched out between them.
“I’d forgotten how young I was.” The man muttered, drumming his fingers in a neat line near the edge of the armrest. He sounded amused and tired. Then the older version of Bennett turned his gaze to Cynthia, who stood to Bennett’s right, her eyes darting between him and the man at her side. Confusion and a hint of fear lurked in her gaze.
“Hello, Dearest.” Bennett winced, flushing, feeling the uncomfortable urge to look away, like he was glimpsing at something intimate and private, not meant for others gaze. At the same time, an indignant anger spilled through his veins, riveting his eyes to the scene unfolding before him. Bennett felt an odd mix of anger and... Want at the way his older self was gazing at Cynthia, and before he’d even realized what he’d done Bennett had taken a half step in front of her, breaking their silent stare. Eyes narrowed, Bennett watched as a triumphant sort of amusement gleamed in the man's dark eyes. Snorting the older version of himself glanced to the side before slithering his gaze back to Bennett, a smile crawling up the corners of his mouth.
“Don’t worry Boy, one of her is enough to drive a man spare.” Startling as the reality of the meaning of what the older man said sunk in Bennett felt the bottom of his stomach drop to his knees. Glancing wildly towards Cynthia, who’d grabbed a fistful of his jacket as if to support herself he saw a mirror of the shock churning inside him splashed violently across her face.
“W—what... H—he and I—I to—”
“Yes. She and I didn’t expect to like one another, much less fall in love.” The word love made Bennett’s knees go weak. He hadn’t loved anyone since his parents had been forced to abandoned him on a park bench. Even the love he’d had for the blurry images of his parents was more duty than a feeling. Even now knowing the truth of his parents choice to leave him and the fact that he was the one to convince them to abandon him he still was unsure if he loved them. The women he went out with, which usually ended with him getting slapped, were nice enough, but they did nothing but make him feel wanted and needed for a day or two until they left him alone again. Bennett watched the man shake his head and rise to his feet with more grace than he’d, thus far, ever been able to manage. Jaunting forward he clapped his hands together like someone eager for something within their grasp.
“Okay Children, we have no more time for meaningless questions and chatter. I and the future need your help.” Placing his hand on Bennett’s shoulder he gripped it tightly between his palm and fingers, a mad grin splitting across his face.
“Why do yo--” Before the words could leave his mouth Bennett felt a familiar tug in his chest before the world spun into darkness, then lit again in a bright blur of color and noise. Landing with a thump, his back plastered to the lumpy hard earth Bennett groaned, then wheezed as Cynthia in her bright red dress and windswept hair landed right on top of him.
“Sorry,” she murmured, her voice quiet and painted with sheepishness. At that moment Bennett had never missed anything quite so much as he did Cynthia’s confident drawl. Looking up at her Bennett could see a faint dusting of freckles spattered across her cheeks and below her eyes. A clearing throat sent her scrambling off him; cheeks dusted with the same red of her dress. Groaning silently Bennett let his head fall back to the ground, staring determinedly up at the white-gray sky above. The streams of sunlight breaking through the clouds were blocked by the older version of Bennett’s large head, a smug, all-knowing look plastered loudly across his face. Letting out a huff of air he pulled himself to his feet, brushing off the grass and dirt clinging to his arms, but leaving it caked across his back, too tired and curious to care much of how he looked. Cynthia stalked towards him, her eyes and expression like that of an uncaring cat. But now Bennett could see the fear and nervous anger lurking underneath, and he could also see her trust in him glimmering like a warm flame. He felt honored that she trusted him but also confused. Shouldn’t she distrust him? After all, it was him--well not him, him, but a version of him none the less—that had been pulling strings since their mad master had finally met his end by Bennetts older counterpart.
“Well, Kiddo’s, welcome to the future.” It was then that Bennett noticed the smoldering dilapidated city in the distance, standing like a remnant of Rome or Pompeii. Cynthia’s long nails dug into the flesh of his upper arm, but Bennett couldn’t feel anything but encroaching numbness as the world faded to narrow streams of black.
Epilogue
They stared at the rubble. Smoke was thick in the city, thick like paint.
“You have to undo all of this.” The older version of him grimaced face filled with a hollowness Bennett had never seen stare back at him in his own face.
“But if I do, you’ll be undone.”
“Yes, but it's worth it. Isn’t it darling?” A tall woman with familiar hair and hollow cheeks from missing far too many people slunk out of the shadows and smoke. Cynthia startled beside him, grabbing his wrist and squeezing for a moment before she realized what she’d done, glancing at him with a wild eyed look as she released him.
“I’d forgotten how young I was.” The older woman mused, sliding to Bennett’s counterparts side and snaking her arm around his waist, head tucking itself into his shoulder. The older Bennett didn’t seem surprised, in fact, he acted like this was an everyday occurrence. Perhaps for them it was. Bennett couldn’t help the surge of odd jealousy at the sight, and then felt immediately ashamed of himself. What his counterpart was purposing would unmake him as he was now.
“We’re alright with being unmade; the cost is far too high to ensure our existence as it is now.” Older Bennett smiled with fondness down at his Cynthia.
“This is the reason we brought you here, the reason we allowed you to see your future; so that you can prevent it.”
“What happened to my fa--” Smiling kindly down at Cynthia her older counterparts smile grew brittle.
“He was murdered long before all of this began.”
“Murdered? But how—why would anyone do such a thing?” Her voice was a shrieking sob. It was then that she reached out and clung to Bennett. He would have given anything at that moment, even if it meant all the distance from her in the galaxy, to rid her of the pain she was immersed in. Stepping forward, older Cynthia lifted her younger counterparts face.
“Hush Dear One, it can still be prevented. Just watch out for suspicious activities and new friends that carry the shroud of old enemies.” Handing her a faded and rusted pocket watch she stepped back.
“It’s time for you to go now.” Older Bennet spoke.
“But you haven’t even told us—”
“You know the future; you know what needs to be done. Just remember, you must unmake this future, but you cannot remove yourself from the equation, or disaster will consume the world of which makes this look like a paradise.” Bennett let his shoulders slump; he’d seen the look on his face too many times to discount what his older counterpart warned him of. He was serious, which meant he’d probably already tried and suffered the consequences.
“Let’s go.” Bennett extended his hand, feeling the weight and shift of time as he opened a portal—a new skill he’d acquired from his older self—glancing one last time at the older counterparts he smiled grimly, bowed his head, and led Cynthia into the abyss, head still buried in chest, shirt wet with her silent tears.
Au
thors Note
Thank you to all who have read The Unfortunate and Odd Life of Bennett Monroe and those whom have supported me with love, prayer and listening to me in my moments of doubt, telling me not to quit. To my readers: may you enjoy this book, and the series and all that my pen and keyboard have put onto the page. If you’d like to contact me, please feel free to do so via my email on my website at smbaker.org. Look forward to book two and thank you once again. Also, a shout out to my wonderful team of beta and sample readers who have invested their free time in this project and into me. Thank you Amanda, Shannon, Ciara and Nicole for being such wonderful people, friends and family. Finally, thank you to my mother, I love you mom, so very much.
