I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand and try to hold them in, because they’re just making him feel worse. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a spoiled child. You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not angry at you. Yeah, I was, but mostly at this whole situation that has you turning to someone else instead of me.”
I bite my lip to keep it from quivering, but another couple of tears sneak out of the corners of my eyes. Kiernan tries to move toward my end of the couch but grimaces when he moves his leg and mutters a few muted curses.
“God, would you just come here, Kate? I’ll behave, I promise. It wrecks me to see you cry and not be able to hold you. Or if you can’t do that, go to him and let him hold you. I’m making a bloody mess of everything.”
He looks so miserable. I can’t tell him no. I’m not even sure I want to.
I slide to his end of the couch and curl up next to him. We hold each other, and I cry—tears for the things we can’t change, or won’t change, but most of all, for things lost. And I fall asleep in his arms when we’re both cried out.
It’s dark in the cabin when I open my eyes, so I’ve no idea how long we slept. But it was deep and dreamless, and I don’t get much of that these days. I move away carefully, so that he doesn’t awaken, and then look around for a pencil and paper so that I can leave him a note.
Kiernan ~ I’ll be back tomorrow morning at eight. Please wait until I’m here to finish watching the points at Six Bridges. You shouldn’t have to do this alone. ~Kate
I underline the word wait three times, then give him a soft kiss on the cheek and tuck the note into the crease of his arm. And then I pull out the medallion and jump back to Trey.
Is that wrong?
Maybe.
I don’t really know anymore. All I know is that I have to stay true to the letter of the promise I made Trey, because I seem to be ripping its spirit to shreds.
∞15∞
The front porch of Katherine’s house is one place I’m reasonably sure Trey will be, since he’s picking me up for school at seven fifteen. My other option is to go back to the townhouse yesterday, but that carries a risk of bumping into my earlier self. While I could also run into myself here, this is my later self, and she will know I’m sitting out here on the porch swing at this moment. So if I’m dumb enough to look outside before Trey rings the doorbell, I deserve whatever headache may follow.
Trey comes through the gate a few minutes early, wearing the khaki pants and white button-down shirt that is the Briar Hill warm-weather uniform for guys. It’s what he wore when he’d stop by to see me after school in the last timeline. He’s a little less crumpled now than he usually was by day’s end, but this is his everyday look, the one I remember best, and my breath catches in my throat.
He smiles when he sees me on the swing, but it’s a confused smile. He’s expecting me to be in my school uniform, ready to go, and I’m in jeans and a T-shirt, both wrinkled. My face is probably still puffy from crying, and my hair is wild.
“I know what you’re about to say,” I begin, “and unless I oversleep the alarm, I’m already in my school clothes. Probably in the kitchen, finishing breakfast. I’ll go back and get a good night’s sleep before you ring the doorbell. I just needed to see you now.”
He sits down next to me on the swing and pulls me toward him. “I know. I felt the same way after last night, but since I’m not blessed with a CHRONOS key—”
“Cursed.”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s probably more accurate.”
The swing rocks us back and forth, and he just stares out at the road for several seconds, silent. I’m about to ask what’s on his mind when he says, “I thought about what you said. And you’re right, okay?”
“About?”
Trey gives me an odd look and then laughs. “About us?”
I’m not quite sure which thing about us he’s referring to, but he keeps going.
“And I know it’s a school night, but with your schedule right now, it could be weeks before you make it through five days of school, right?”
He’s definitely right. I’m going back to Kiernan’s as soon as we finish classes today. It’s not fair to make him watch the stable points at God’s Hollow on his own. I can’t even imagine being in that cabin alone, watching those people die.
“So, I’m thinking . . . maybe dinner tonight? I’ll get reservations someplace nice, so we can make it special.”
I’m a bit torn. I’ll probably be lousy company, given all that’s going on, but I did promise to try to give him equal time.
“I think that’ll be okay,” I say. “But pick me up at the townhouse.”
“Got it. Six o’clock?”
I nod, and then a big yawn hits me.
He kisses me on the forehead. “You need sleep. We have a big day and a big night ahead. Sweet dreams.”
I almost say “you, too,” until I realize that would be silly, so I just give him a sleepy smile and pull out the CHRONOS key. “Give me a couple of minutes, then ring the bell.”
I’d rather jump straight to my room, but I set the coordinates for the foyer, a minute after I jumped away yesterday afternoon, so that I can update Katherine and Connor.
They’re still on the couch, with their backs to the foyer. Katherine is grumbling about something, so I clear my throat to announce my presence.
“Kiernan’s okay,” I say.
Connor huffs. “As I said just before you took off.”
“You said it could have been a lot worse. Not the same thing. Anyway, the massacre at God’s Hollow, Six Bridges, whatever you want to call it, is definitely Saul’s work. I’m going back tomorrow after school to get more details. Right now, I’m going to sleep.”
When I get to my room, I call Dad to check on Grandpa, but I get his voice mail again. It feels like he’s been gone a week, so it’s a bit of a jolt to look at the time and see that it’s not even nine yet, which means he’s only been gone about eight hours. There’s also a message from Mom, but I’m too exhausted to chat.
I drink some water, run the toothbrush across my teeth a few times, and then collapse into bed, hoping to get a solid ten hours or so of nightmare-free sleep. But the fire dream sneaks up on me a little before daybreak. My subconscious clearly doesn’t go in for subtlety, because this time, in addition to all of the strangers, Kiernan and Trey are among those I “save” by tossing them out the window onto the sidewalk below, where they shatter to tiny bits. There’s no way to sleep after that. On the bright side, I have time to exercise before school.
After working out and showering, I eat my protein bar on the patio with Daphne, mostly so I won’t be tempted to peek at the front porch, where Trey will arrive in about two minutes. I don’t hear his car when it pulls up, but Daphne does. She gives a few barks and runs to the patio door before I call her back over. I think she can hear us talking out front as well, because she keeps giving me these pitiful looks, like she can’t understand why I’m here, but my voice is out there. And, more importantly, why I’m keeping her from her job as household greeter.
I’m at the door when Trey rings the bell a few minutes later, and I let Daphne out onto the porch, so she can get her barking, tail wagging, and sniffing out of the way. Then I reach up to give Trey a kiss.
He glances back over his shoulder at the swing, which hasn’t quite stopped moving, before he steps inside. “You know, this would be a lot easier to get used to if you had to go back to your TARDIS or whatever before you disappeared.”
“I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to mess with your head. It’s just that I’m having to find creative ways to keep my promise.”