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Authors: Carly Fall

BOOK: Beyond the Past
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Chapter 34

An hour later, a light tapping sounded on door. She opened it, surprised to find Thomas.

“Hello, Gabby,” he said with a small smile. “Joe has instructed me to get a full description of your attacker. Can we do that now?”

She nodded and moved to the side. He came in and took the chair at the desk, while she sat down on the bed.

“Now, what I’d like you to do is answer my questions freely. I’m going to sketch and take notes as we talk.”

She nodded, surprised to realize she’d never heard the man speak.

“How would you describe his jaw?” he asked.

She shuddered as she spoke of the strong jawlines she had found attractive.

“And his cheekbones?”

“They were high and kind of wide.”

Thomas nodded and the sound of his pencil moving over the paper filled the room. “Like this?” He showed her what he’d drawn.

“No, not quite like that. I guess more narrow?”

He erased and redrew the lines, and she nodded.

“What about his age?”

She shrugged. “I’d estimate somewhere between thirty and forty.”

“Can you narrow that?”

“No.”

They discussed the facial features more, and then Thomas asked about his hair.

“Black, in a military cut.”

“A buzz cut all around, or a high and tight?”

“A buzz cut, but grown out just a bit. More than whiskers—probably about a half-inch to an inch.”

Thomas asked more questions while drawing, took some notes, and an hour later, turned the paper toward her.

“How precise do you think this is?” he asked.

Shivering, she looked over the picture, surprised at the accuracy. It almost looked like a photograph. “That’s him,” she murmured, hoping she’d never see him again, but wishing she would so she could lodge his nuts in his throat.

“His name?” Thomas asked.

“Jerrod Stern.”

“Height?”

“Probably about six-two, six-three.”

“Build?”

“Long and thin, but muscular.”

Thomas nodded, jotting down notes.

“Any accent?”

Gabby thought a moment and then shook her head. “None that I noticed.”

“Tattoos? Piercings? Strange moles or skin discolor?”

“No. None that I saw.”

He nodded and stood. “I think we’ll be able to get him with this. I’m certain he didn’t give you his real name as we’ve already run Jerrod Stern through our databases. Thank you for your time, Gabby.”

She sat on the bed staring at the door for a long time, wondering how they were going to track down a man by a drawing, and what they would do to him once they caught him. Scratch that. She knew in her heart that Lucas would be the one to decide Jerrod’s fate, and based on Lucas’s rage, it wasn’t going to be pretty for Jerrod.

Chapter 35

Lucas turned as Thomas entered the kitchen and set down the drawing in front of Joe.

“Excellent work, Thomas,” Joe murmured. “I think it’s definitely enough detail.”

Thomas nodded and sat down.

“That’s him?” Lucas asked, reaching for the drawing.

“According to Gabby, yes,” Joe said. “Of course, I’m sure there are slight difference, but it should be enough for us to run it through our facial recognition program and find a match in our database.”

“How do you know he’s going to be in your database?”

Joe smiled. “I don’t like discussing the inner-workings of my business, Lucas, but I will say this—a man who can tie a woman up to a chair and beat her is a very, very, awful human being. I have a database of such people that I have painstakingly collected over many years.”

“How many people do you have in there?” Garrett asked.

“The world is full of bad people, Garrett, of both sexes. My database is extensive.”

Lucas looked down at the picture again, memorizing it. His gut coiled in rage as he thought of Gabby’s battered body and the horror she must have gone through.

The image niggled at his brain, as if he’d seen the man somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place him. Was he a military guy? From the short haircut, body description, and chiseled features, it looked like it. He certainly didn’t qualify for a desk jockey, unless he worked out quite a bit.

No, those hard features leaned toward the military type, or even government. Maybe that was it. The guy simply looked like a whole bunch of other military guys Lucas had seen in his time of service.

“When you find him, he’s mine,” he growled as he glared at Joe. “I want him.”

Joe nodded. “Rest assured, Lucas, that when we do find him, you’ll be the first to know.”

Their gazed locked for a moment, and Lucas nodded, certain that Joe understood the meaning behind his words.

“Let’s go, Thomas,” Joe said. “We have extensive work to complete.”

Lucas held the door as they all left, and then watched them drive away. The quiet cabin only served to amplify his thoughts on how he was going to kill Jerrod, or whatever the hell his name was.

Chapter 36

Gabby woke as the sun rose in the sky, fully clothed, on top of the quilt. She’d only lain down for a minute last night after working with Thomas, but apparently, it had been a minute too long. The open blinds allowed the first rays of sun to shine right into her face.

She sat up, her body stiff and sore, her mind clouded with remnants of her nightmares. It seemed every time she went to sleep, she relived her attack. Shivering, she moved to the restroom. The purple and bluish colors on her face seemed more pronounced, as did the bruise on her ribs. She stretched a little bit, and after a moment, her body didn’t hurt quite as bad, but she took half of a pain pill and an anti-inflammatory, anyway.

After using the toilet, a shower seemed in order. She disrobed and stepped under the warm spray.

Each day, she felt a little bit better, a little bit stronger, both mentally and physically. As the bubbles from the shampoo trickled over her back and butt, then down her legs, it felt like they were taking some of her doubts about Lucas away with them to the drain.

In the end, she knew they shared a deep connection, one she always wondered if others felt with their spouses. As if they were two halves of a whole, better together than apart. She’d learned the first time he left her twelve years ago that time didn’t matter. After her initial hesitation about getting back together with Lucas all that time ago, they’d picked up right where they had left off, as if they’d never been apart and their three years of separation had simply put them into a holding pattern until they reunited.

However, she also understood that she couldn’t live with herself if Lucas continued to make decisions on what he deemed best for her. He may have been doing it to protect her, but in the end, it had been proven—twice, for that matter—that she was better off with him than without him.

She dried her hair and pulled on a pair of jeans, a white turtleneck, and a blue sweater Joe had provided. Everything fit perfectly. Opening her door, the smell of coffee assaulted her, and she allowed the aroma to lead her to the kitchen.

Lucas stood at the sink, gazing out the window. Again, the sun shone brightly, causing the snow to glimmer.

“Hi,” she said as he turned.

“Good morning.”

A black turtleneck hugged his chest, jeans hung loosely from his hips, and he’d donned snow boots on his feet.

“Are you coming in or going out?” she asked, motioning toward the boots.

“Just on my way out. We need some more firewood.”

“Can I come with you? I’m getting a little cabin fever.”

He nodded. “Sure. Grab a coat off the rack by the front door and let’s take a walk. The firewood can wait for a bit.”

She grabbed a parka and met him outside.

“It looks like we may get more snow,” he commented as he stared up at the storm clouds moving over the sun, casting the valley in a shadow.

“I think you’re right.”

“You let me know when you’re ready to come back, okay?”

She nodded and stuffed her hands in her pockets. He led the way down the stairs. “Be careful, these are a little slick.”

She smiled and grabbed the handrail.

Lucas had been looking out for her since she was eight and he eleven. At that time, he’d protected her from bullying kids. As they grew up together, he’d continued to shield her, taking the blame when she broke curfew, or the time her mother caught her smoking a cigarette, a huge sin on the health-conscious commune.

When he’d joined the military, they’d promised their love to each other, and the plan had been for her to join him wherever he was stationed once she graduated from high school. He’d decided it would be best for them to separate because he saw the tragedies of war and how it affected the loved ones of killed soldiers. He promised he’d never leave her again, and he had, again, to protect her.

They walked in silence up the drive along the pond. A cold breeze stung her cheeks, and she inhaled deeply. She really loved cool winter days and the snow, except when she had to drive in it.

“You okay?” Lucas asked, glancing over at her.

“Yes. Just thinking about stuff.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “Like what the future looks like.”

He stopped and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I hope it looks like this,” he said with a pleading gaze. “I hope it looks like you and me taking walks together. I hope you decide that you can forgive me for what I’ve done, for the pain I’ve caused you. I hope we can try for more babies. I hope we can grow old together.”

The decision lay with her. Lucas had explained exactly what he wanted in the future. Could she forgive him for what he’d done, for what she’d lost?

“My options seem pretty limited,” she said. “I either go back to my old life, where I will probably be killed because whoever ‘they’ are is looking for you, or I can disappear by myself. Then, my third option is to vanish with you, and I guess help you with your work for Joe.”

He nodded. “I was about to tell you that option one wasn’t really an option, but I’ve got to learn that I’m not in charge of your decisions. If you think you want to risk going back to your old life, then I’m not going to stop you, but I will advise against it.”

“Thank you for realizing that,” she said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

They continued walking, and Lucas pulled her hand from her pocket, wrapping it in his own. He squeezed her fingers, his rough hands feeling familiar and safe.

After a few moments, her body became weary and her head began to throb. “I’m getting a little tired,” she said.

“Let’s head back then, honey.”

As they turned around and began the trek back to the cabin, Gabby mulled her decision. The fact that Lucas hadn’t jumped down her throat when she brought up her option of continuing her old life reassured her, especially when he explained his thinking behind it.

Reassuring, definitely, but was it enough?

Chapter 37

By the time they got back to the cabin, the snow fell at a brisk rate. Gabby looked downright edible with flakes dotting her hair and eyelashes, her cheeks rosy.

They shrugged out of their parkas and hung them. Lucas kicked off his boots, but noticed her wincing as she tried to undo her own.

“Let me help you.” He bent down before her. As he unknotted the laces, he smiled. He would do anything in the world to protect this woman, and unfortunately, that thought had landed them in their current circumstances. If she walked away from him, he’d understand. It may very well kill him, but what woman wanted to be around a domineering, overbearing ass like him?

Gabby was intelligent, and certainly more than capable of making her own decisions. In his soul, he knew this, but he’d left their marriage because of the supernatural ability he’d acquired as well the monitoring, threats, and baggage that came with it all.

She laid her hand on his shoulder as he slipped the boots off. He waited until she seemed stable on her feet, and then stood.

“Your hair’s wet,” he whispered, pushing a lock behind her ear. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and I’ll get a towel?”

She met his gaze and nodded. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, and then turned to walk down the hall to the bedroom.

He grabbed the beige towel and brought it up to his nose, deeply inhaling the soft vanilla scent he associated with Gabby. It set his body afire, but relaxed him at the same time.

As he entered the living room, he noticed she had thrown a couple more logs onto the fire, the popping and crackling the only noise in the room. She sat on the couch, staring at the flames. He glanced out the window at the falling snow re-blanketing the area.

“Can you sit up a bit?” he asked.

She nodded and complied.

He picked up the ends of her hair and placed them in the towel, gently squeezing them. Her hair never failed to amaze him. At times, it looked brown, but when the light caught it just right, bright red highlights shone, and sometimes, he thought he even caught glimpses of deep purple.

Thinking of his time as a homeless man, he wondered if he had really meant it when he left Gabby, or had he disappeared with the hope of returning to her somewhere in the future? In his heart, he knew they were better together, but could he walk away from her for good? Could he allow her to do so?

“Please don’t leave,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

Her shoulders sagged as she placed her head in her hands.

He finished with her hair and sat down next to her as she leaned back against the couch.

Lucas sighed. “I just wish I could turn back the—”

The room began to warp and he sucked in a breath as he realized he was having a vision.

Gabby was gone, but he could hear her.

“Lucas?” she asked. “Lucas!”

He ignored her and concentrated on what he saw before him.

“Lucas!” she called. “Are you seeing something?”

He nodded as reds, blues, yellows, and blacks swirled before him, trying to come together in a cohesive picture.

Gabby placed her hand in his and squeezed. “Talk to me, Lucas,” she said, her voice low and calm. “Talk to me and tell me what you see.”

This vision felt different than the others he’d experienced. Usually, they were crystal clear, as if he watched a high definition TV, but this time, the blurred images wouldn’t form a cohesive picture. “I’m not sure,” he whispered. “It’s not like it usually is.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It’s like . . . it’s like a camera that won’t focus. I see blurs, not a picture.”

She squeezed his hand, and he concentrated.

Instincts told him there were two men. “It’s white,” he whispered, gripping her hand. “Everything is white, and there are two men.”

“Who are they?”

“Can’t see them,” he whispered.

The outline of the two black forms waved and morphed in a ghostly way, and they either fought or danced—he wasn’t sure which—until one threw the other to the ground. He’d never seen any dance move like that. “They’re fighting.”

“Go on,” she urged.

One form straddled the other, his fists battering the man on the bottom. Quickly, the roles reversed.

“What’s happening, Lucas?”

“It’s a fist fight,” he whispered. “A bad one. They’re battling it out.”

It continued for what seemed like an eternity, with first one of the forms getting the upper hand, and then the other. Suddenly, it was as if the camera came into focus, and he saw a face.

“Black hair, blue eyes,” he said, trying to make out the features beyond the blood and bruises covering his face. A moment later, recognition set in. “I think it’s Jerrod.”

The camera angle turned, and it felt as if Lucas stared into a mirror. “Oh, no,” he whispered, taking in his own beaten, bloody face.

“What?” Gabby asked. “What is it?”

Suddenly, both faces appeared next to each other, both blinking at him. He studied the cut lips, red welts that would soon turn angry purples and blues, and the swollen eyes. Jerrod and he had beaten the crap out of each other.

The vision faded and he glanced around the living room, taking comfort in the crackling fire, the couch beneath him, and most importantly, at Gabby staring at him with concern etched her face. He was sweating and breathing hard, as if he’d actually been in a fight.

“What did you see?” she asked.

He shook his head, uncertain of what the vision meant. In the past, he’d only seen images of people dying, but in this case, no one had died. Both battered faces had been very much alive in the end as they stared at him. What did it mean?

Perhaps it was a toss up to see who would survive a battle between him and Jerrod?

“Lucas?” Gabby said.

If that were true, he certainly wouldn’t tell her about it. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It was all so murky and foggy, I’m not sure what I saw.”

“I thought the visions were usually really clear.”

He nodded. “They usually are. I’ve never had one like this.”

He sat back on the couch next to her, staring into the fire, their shoulders touching.

“Can I hold you for a moment?” he asked, hoping like hell she’d agree. The unsettling images disturbed him, and being close to Gabby calmed his nerves.

She moved over, and he wrapped his arm around her as she rested her head on his chest, her hand lying on his stomach. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her soft vanilla scent, enjoying the familiarity of her body pressed against his.

“What do you think it means, Lucas?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

A few minutes later, her breathing evened out as she fell asleep. He carefully reached for the blanket on the other side of the couch and pulled it over both of them. Leaning his head back, he watched the fire dance and thought about the vision. He would search high and low to find Jerrod, and he wanted the man dead for what he’d done to Gabby.

However, in his mind, there lay no doubt he would win the battle.

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