by Bella Street
“Like she's behind the reason we traveled through time. I know, it sounds crazy, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“Lani has this theory that Verity was challenged fashion-wise and loved Zannytu because she was really from the 80s.”
“Did...?” She swallowed back a lump in her throat. “Did Lani say how we could get back?”
Gareth frowned. “No, it's mostly just wild theory. And honestly, I wouldn't have thought much about it except I just figured out the time-travel calculations Eugene had me working on were fake—as in being schematic stuff on the internal systems of the compound and such.”
“Oh.”
He licked his lips. “I'm sorry. You don't want to be hearing about this stuff right now. I know you need your rest.”
Rest.
Rest in peace, maybe.
He leaned forward and cupped her cheek before standing. “Don't forget. I'm here for you, Sef. I always will be.”
Seffy mustered a pained smile, and for the most part kept her eyes lowered. “Thank you.”
He pressed a kiss on the top of her head.
When he was gone, she glared at the door. He was here for her since he assumed she was emotionally incapacitated.
But her momentary anger died before the weight of the latest revelations.
She glanced over at the photos of Trent on the nightstand. There was one person she needed.
But he couldn't make it.
***
Fenn lowered the smeared knife and looked down at his handiwork. The zigzagging rivulets of blood made the words hard to decipher. But he knew what they meant. It was why he carved them into his arm.
Momento mori.
Remember you will die.
This was so he'd never forget. Never lose track of time again. Because he'd already ruined one life. He couldn't let that happen a second time.
Fenn's eyes opened with a snap. He sat up and stared down at the insides of his arms, expecting to see bloody cuts.
But only faint pitting and scars from his drug use met his eyes.
Still, the dream remained sharp in his mind. He slid from the bed and got dressed. There wasn't much time. His dreams were only confirming what he already knew to be true.
“What are you doing up?”
He looked up to find Fiona standing in the doorway, regarding him with wide eyes. She must've fallen asleep in her clothes. “I just have some things to attend to.”
She took a few steps into the room. “Fenn, yesterday you were at death's door. Before that you could barely walk.”
He tugged his shirt down over his head, then realized the pain in his bones was gone. He made tight fists with both hands and stretched his arms.
Lowering his hands, he stared at Fiona, his heart pounding hard.
His heart was pounding. Not a weak flutter. No skipped beats. He hurried into the bathroom and checked his reflection. The wan mien he expected had been replaced by healthy color. The shadows were gone from his eyes—eyes that shone clear and bright.
Fiona joined him, reaching out to touch his arm. She shook her head in awe as she met his astonished gaze. “No wonder they've been after her.”
No wonder.
Fiona hugged him tight. Fenn put his arms around her, thankful he didn't have to wince in pain. Hope surged within him at the fresh opportunity.
But at what cost? How would Seffy feel about his turnaround?
Fenn eased away from Fiona. He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted and pukey. Amazing how close pregnancy is to cancer when it comes to symptoms.”
“Yeah, but one brings new life and the other drains it away.”
Fiona looked away. “Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat.”
Hunger pains clawed at him from the inside out. He'd forgotten what it was like to be hungry. “Starved.”
Once Fiona headed for the kitchen, he crossed his room and picked up the phone. He didn't have a moment to lose.
***
Black smoke rose from the chasm ripped into the desert floor. Vultures floated in lazy circles above. One wafted down and landed next to the skull.
She stared at the sight of the skeleton in the pink tracksuit. The vulture picked at the bleached bones sticking out of one arm of the suit.
Suddenly the vulture let out a startled cry and lifted back into the air. The bones began to rattle until they separated. The skull rolled away, coming to a stop near her feet. A spark of light caught her eye. She reached down toward the separated spine and touched a gold chain tangled in the sternum ribs.
When she maneuvered it free, she found herself mesmerized by the pink rhinestone J pendant. But there was something else with it. A gold ring.
The skull began to rock back and forth, its rictus smile mocking her somehow. When the ground shifted beneath her feet, she lost her balance. The necklace slipped from her fingers and fell into the chasm below.
Seffy's eyes opened as she struggled to catch her breath. Her hands groped for the chain around her neck. Only when she felt the familiar Juicy pendant and Trent's wedding band did she relax. The key was still there, too, but she was pretty sure there were no more secrets to unlock.
She hoped.
Flopping back against Trent's bed, she willed her heart rate to slow. Images from the dream lingered. She remembered vultures, bones, and a dark pit opening beneath her feet.
All that was missing was the Grim Reaper and a black crow or two. She closed her eyes, more exhausted than before.
And then she felt the tremors. Seffy sat back up, sensing the vibrations shimmering through the building. Another earthquake. At least that partially explained the dream.
Did anyone else in the area notice the shifting earth? Surely state officials had taken note of the activity and even now had their seismologists swarming the site, microwave news vans close behind.
No wait. It was the other way around. Everyone was leaving the compound, not arriving.
Seffy decided a shower might wash away the grittiness of her dreams. She headed back to her room.
When she entered, she found Fenn standing in the middle of it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, startled.
He turned and smiled slightly. “Looking for you.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. The color in his face and eyes unnerved her. Could he really be on the mend? Or maybe this was a look-alike—deployed from some secret basement area where they kept Doppelgängers.
“Can you tell?” he asked. “I can hardly believe it myself.”
“So I guess you're not dead.”
His smile faded. “I was. But you saved me.”
“Gosh, as much as I'd love to take all the credit here, I can't. You saved yourself. But then again, looks like your own skin has always been your first priority.”
“Seffy, I'm so sorry.”
“Don't apologize for anything.” She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting for control.
Breaking down in front of Fenn would not be therapeutic. “Just keep your end of the deal and get me back to Trent.”
“I wanted to let you know that I'll be able to work harder at making things right.”
She dropped her hands, furious. “Like bringing Trent back? Because that's the only thing you can do for me that will 'make things right!'”
His expression became shuttered. “I'll do everything I can to help—”
“God, do you hear yourself? You can do nothing but say meaningless words! Look around, Fenn! Are you even aware your entire security force is gone? That most of the compound residents have left? I'm wondering how exactly, but the point is you're nothing but a liar.”
Her lip curled. She was the fool for ever believing he could get her back to Trent. “Now that you got what you wanted, you're still nothing but a cheat and a liar.”
Fenn took a deep breath. “I hope I can change your opinion of me, Seffy. I'll make every effort to do so.”
His mouth tightened.
Seriously, what did he expect? She stepped to the side as he exited her room.
The moment he cleared the threshold, she closed the door. And locked it. Not that it mattered in a place like Fugere.
What was locked was opened. What was open was shut away forever.
Despite promises to the contrary.
***
“I'm not surprised she reacted that way.”
Fenn grunted in response, watching Olga remove the needle from the vein in his arm. After tucking the vial of blood away, she loosened the rubber band strip and placed a cotton ball over the injection site, fastening it with a bandage.
“I'm sure I don't need to remind you to take extra precautions with blood exposure. You're technically a contaminant now like—”
“Like Seffy.” Fenn grimaced and pulled down his sleeve. “But, according to Seffy, there won't be anyone to avoid. Apparently the compound has nearly emptied itself out.”
Olga straightened. “You didn't know about that?”
He shook his head. “I figured my security chief was staying away so I could rest. Not only have most of the residents left, but all the guards as well.”
The nurse pressed her hand to her chest. “What about protection? Seffy is still here.”
“But not for long. Now that I have some energy, I'll be setting things in motion.”
“And that plan is what impressed Seffy?”
Fenn's mouth bent in a humorless smile. “Yeah.”
Olga stripped off her gloves and disposed of them, her face etched with concern. “You may be brilliant, Fenn, but you're a bit dense when it comes to dealing with young women.”
“I was young before, I remember...” His voice trailed away to an awkward silence as his face heated.
“Exactly,” the nurse said. “Leave Seffy to me. You just need to get your part right.”
“But—”
“You have one more chance.”
“Because it's not a cure.”
Olga released a breath. “It's not a cure.”
***
The next time Seffy went to the Light Room, she couldn't stop thinking about how it was directly above Fenn's 'study.'
What were the chances? Were there several attic areas with skylights? Or had it been more than coincidence?
Had the Fugere staff discovered the room when chasing down the stains? Was it possible Trent had known? He'd done more exploring of the compound than anyone. But he almost certainly picked the area for the booty call potential and nothing else.
As she lay on the cushions, looking up at the twinkling lights and the scary sky beyond, she could only imagine Fenn below, coming up with some new scheme, some new excuse.
Had he heard them up here? Heard them talking and laughing. And more?
Leave it to Fenn to spoil even what seemed sacred.
After communing with her failed circumstances until her thoughts became a hopeless tangle, she returned to Trent's room. It was easier to stay angry at Fenn, but hard to know how to use that anger in pursuit of a goal.
Everyone else held the cards and yet she was the one in play.
Seffy looked at Trent's photos, trying to draw strength from the images, but only feeling like she'd blown it. He still eluded her in her dreams—aside from the most recent.
What are you afraid of?
I'm afraid of every beat of my heart in your absence. I'm afraid of forgetting the feel of your arms around me. Of allowing the compound to absorb me into its madness.
I'm afraid of everything.
The knock on the door made her jump. Pressing her hand to her chest, she went to the door, but hesitated opening it. Who would actually knock? Gareth or the girls would poke their heads in. Olga would call first. Who was it?
Had her visions of Angelique officially retired now that her identity had been revealed?
If Fenn was to be believed.
But the documentation on the wall. The photos. Her mind flinched from thinking too deeply about it. The past was over. Unchangeable.
For now.
Another knock. Maybe it was Malone. She opened the door.
Fenn. The healthy, glowing, new-lease-on-life compound leader extraordinaire. “What do you want?”
“Actually I came to ask you the same thing.”
Great. New riddles. Seffy frowned and reluctantly let him in. All she needed was Gareth or one of the girls seeing her have this conversation. When the door was closed, she turned to him, arms crossed.
He stood in the center of the room, tall and straight and robust in a navy turtleneck and dark jeans. And as always, clueless.
She lifted her chin, his betrayal still at the forefront of her mind. “I'll tell you what I want—I want a father who doesn't abandon me.” The words surprised her but she continued. “I want to be not thrown away, not forgotten, not left behind.”
The vibrant flush in Fenn's face faded a bit. “I understand.”
She dropped her arms. “Do you? Do you understand what it's like when no one is looking for you? When any pervert can scoop you up because no one's even bothered to file a missing child report?”
He thinned his lips, but remained silent.
“Until Trent, I never belonged to anyone. Do you know what it's like? To never belong?”
Fenn shook his head.
“I'm not talking symbolically when I say I have been used, abused, tortured...since I was taken, taken from my time. My body bears the marks of this place...this hellhole that you call a refuge.” She swallowed as tears welled up in her eyes. “But for all that I went through, the sliver of time I had with Trent...I would go through it again if I had to.”
Fenn took a deep breath, pinning her with a steady look. “I'm so sorry for what you've suffered, but—”
“I don't want any more excuses.” Seffy dashed away the moisture on her cheeks with the back of her hand, furious she'd allowed tears to fall in his presence. “Your words are just empty air.”
The brackets around his mouth deepened. “Verity and I were research partners in time-travel. We worked for a private organization that stayed beneath the radar. But after budget cuts, we were broomed.”
Seffy walked to the couch and collapsed onto the cushions, huddling down into Trent's hoodie. “So you respond with another story.”
He pulled the chair over and sat down. “After my father died and left me the compound, I realized it was the perfect place for Verity and I to resume our research in secret. I was already with Fiona then.”
“Is this the part where the love triangle begins?”
“There was no love triangle. My relationship with Verity was always platonic. Of course, Fiona wasn't convinced.”
Two peas in a pod they were.
“Back then, Fiona saw Fugere had potential to be a refuge for people struggling on the fringes of life. She viewed them through rose-colored glasses.
As people trickled in, she realized many were troubled, some on the lam, all unhappy. She was also pregnant with you.” He shook his head. “But I didn't focus on any of that. Verity and I were able to get back to the point where our previous work had ended.”
Seffy found herself following his narrative despite her intentions to tune him out. She tried to imagine Fenn as a budding researcher with a beautiful blonde—and undoubtedly ambitious—partner. Yeah, this could go nowhere but down.
“Fiona experienced what I now know was pre-eclampsia late in pregnancy. We had doctors here of course, but her high blood-pressure and swelling were attributed to working too hard running the compound. By the time the doctors figured out what was really wrong, she went into premature labor and you were born.”
Seffy held her breath for what she suspected came next.
“She died.” He a
verted his gaze, emotions contorting his face. “I was devastated and blamed myself for not paying enough attention to her, for being too focused on my work. Over time, I started taking heavy painkillers to deal with the grief. Verity was threatening to take her research and leave. And I had a medically needy infant. I'm sure you can imagine the downward progression.
“In desperation I tried several time-travel experiments in an effort to turn back the clock, but failed. I began using heroin, telling myself if I could just get some relief from grief then I could iron out the time wrinkles. I could reverse Fiona's death and make things right. Around that period, we had our first time travel success. We sent ourselves forward sixty seconds. Then for a few more minutes, and so on, but not really anything that could affect future events. It was then Verity became obsessed with going far into the future. Up until that point, we'd agreed such a thing would be disastrous.” He took a breath. “By that time, you were two. My addictions became known to my staff and you were taken away.”
Seffy frowned. “That doesn't make sense. I was never in the foster care system.”
He nodded shortly. “You weren't. Verity had arranged for an 'intervention' and passed you off to a friend, thinking she could help me quit heroin cold turkey and get my life back on track. We were on the cusp of a monumental moment and she didn't want me to blow it.” He swallowed hard. “Then one day she was simply gone. I didn't know if she'd gone to the future as she wanted or just left the compound. The computers didn't tell me, and even worse, I didn't know where you were.”
She stared at Fenn's bowed head, feeling more contempt than pity.
“The shock forced me to face my addiction head on. I finally quit. But rage and loss made for muddled thinking. I had convinced myself she'd taken you with her and so I went back to the new millennium. Over and over. When I couldn't locate her, I started researching your existence in the future.”
His knuckles showed white as he balled his fists. “Starting from square one, I finally found a newspaper article about a girl being adopted by a nearby mayor. I kept digging and found more records and finally school photos. You looked like every childhood picture I'd ever seen of Fiona. Same face shape, same dark eyes, same caramel-colored hair.” He shook his head. “It was a shock to realize you were in the same state all that time, that Verity had never taken you with her at all.”
