Tempest (3 page)

I snatched a couple of shoes from the floor and tossed them back into the closet. “Well … maybe I could help—”

“No,” she said quickly before hitting the power button on her computer monitor. She let out a breath and her shoulders relaxed. “Seriously, Jackson, just go so I can get something done. Please.”

The sarcasm had dropped from her voice, leaving only an exhausted and slightly exasperated tone. She was giving me an easy way out of this argument. But curiosity took over and I opened my mouth again. “Hol, why are you so pissed?”

She shook her head a little. “I’m not …
mad
at you.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Then what…?”

What do you want from me?
I had started to say, because I really didn’t know. But the words got stuck in my throat when I saw the drop of water fall onto the piece of paper in front of her. I took a couple steps toward her and she turned around, giving me a one-second glimpse of her tears before she leaned her head against my chest, hiding her face. “You never tell me anything … It’s … it’s like you have this whole other life and I can’t be in it.”

Hearing the tears trembling in her voice hit me harder than I expected. I should have run when I had the chance. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t mean to push you away. I’m … I’m sorry.”

Holly ducked under my arms and flopped down on the bed, her blond hair spilling around her. She groaned loudly. “I hate that I can’t stay mad at you.”

I released the breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding and lay down next to her, burying my face in her neck. “I thought you said you weren’t mad.”

She slapped her hands over her eyes and pressed down hard. “I
was
mad. Past tense.”

“Does this mean we get to have makeup sex?”

She cracked a smile, then her mouth formed a thin line again. “Only if you promise no more secrets … ever.”

Not possible. No way.

She sat up and I glided my fingers up and down her back. “You’ll cave either way.”

She turned and raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Liar.” She laughed and pulled my shirt off, tossing it over the lamp. “Lydia’s going to be such a bitch tomorrow.”

I pulled her back down and loosened the tie on her robe. “She’s at least two hundred dollars richer, so there’s nothing to bitch about. And when is she
not
angry?”

“Never. But thank you for one night free of feminist lectures.”

I leaned over and whispered, “Consider it your makeup gift.”

She wiggled out of her robe. “Do I get anything else?”

“Like a new car?” I asked.

“No.”

“A pound of that really expensive nondairy chocolate?”

She kissed the length of my neck. “You know what I want.”

I groaned loudly. “Not a chance.”

“Please.”

“You’re turning me into a complete freak. Or worse—a chick.” I made the mistake of turning my head. One glimpse of the tears still drying on her cheeks and I caved. “If you tell anyone, I will kick your little ass. Got it?”

She mimed zipping her lips, then snuggled up to me. “Do you think you can manage a British accent this time?”

I laughed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll try.” Adam and my medical records could wait.

“Okay, on with it.”

I rolled my eyes, then took a deep breath.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness…”

My ninth-grade English teacher always made us recite Dickens while standing in front of the class. I hated it. For Holly, I didn’t mind too much, but I’d never tell her that.

“Do you think he did the right thing?” Holly asked after I’d recited the first few pages.

“You mean Sydney? Getting his head chopped off so the woman he loves can be with another man?”

Holly laughed and her lips vibrated against my chest. “Yeah.”

“No, I think he’s a complete moron.” I kissed the corner of her mouth and she grinned at me.

“You’re lying.”

I pulled her closer and kissed her again, ending the discussion that would inevitably lead to spilling out more secrets than I cared to share.

“You weren’t aiming those shoes at anyone earlier, were you?” I asked in between kisses.

She leaned over me, her hair forming a yellow curtain around us. “I didn’t even know you were in here.”

“Okay, good, because that red shoe had a really pointy heel. You could take someone’s eye out with that.”

She laughed really hard and then kissed me again before whispering in my ear, “I’ll save it for all my other boyfriends.”

*   *   *

I woke up early the next morning to Holly’s alarm buzzing loudly in my ear. Blond hair tickled my nose and a big chunk fell right in my mouth. She slammed her fist into the snooze button before mumbling, “I set it so you wouldn’t miss your eight o’clock lab.”

“I can skip it today.” I pushed her hair from my face and kissed the back of her neck. “Go back to sleep.”

She pulled my arm tighter around her, then muttered something nearly incoherent, but it sounded like, “Tell me a secret.”

This was Holly’s favorite game. I usually responded with a random and stupid remark like
“I used to have a crush on Hilary Duff.”
But after last night’s argument, I owed her a little better than that.

I touched my lips to her ear and whispered, “I’m crazy about you.”

I could practically hear her smile right before we both drifted back to sleep.

*   *   *

My eyes opened again two hours later. This time to the sound of someone knocking on the door. I reached for my jeans and yanked a T-shirt over my head before shaking Holly. “I think Lydia’s back.”

She groaned and grabbed her robe from the floor, and then opened the door. Two men pushed past her and strode into the room.

“What…?” Holly said, grabbing the sides of her robe and tying them tight.

One of the men, the shorter one with red hair, slammed the door shut. “That’s him,” he said to the other man.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

The shorter one looked right at me. “Are you Kevin Meyer’s son?”

My heart rate sped. Something had happened … When was the last time I’d seen my dad…?
Two days ago,
I remembered. He’d been out of the country since.

“Is he … okay?”

Holly drew in a breath and moved closer to me, squeezing my hand. I could guess the theories spinning through her head:
company plane crashed into a mountain somewhere, leaving the CEO’s only child without a single living family member.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

The taller of the two men reached into his jacket and flashed a badge, too fast to read it. “You need to come with us.”

Cops … maybe FBI? Investigative reporters? Or maybe my dad’s pharmaceutical company was being charged with money-laundering or some other scandal. My dad and his clan of business advisers had drilled into me, on many occasions, the lengths reporters will go to get information for a story. And the quick flash of the badge, not letting me really see what it said …

I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Jackson, maybe you should—”

I held my hand up to silence Holly before turning my eyes back on the men. “What paper are you with?”

The two men looked at each other and the taller one shrugged before uncertainly saying, “Newspaper?”

I raised my arm and pointed at the door behind them. “Get out. Both of you.”

Holly slowly sidestepped behind me without turning her back on the intruders.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Holly inching backward toward her dresser, reaching for something. A cell phone? Pepper spray?

“Are you currently involved with any government agencies?” the short one asked. “Have they approached you with information?”

These dudes are seriously pissing me off
. I quickly scanned the room for a makeshift weapon, and slowly reached for a tall floor lamp.

Before I could open my mouth to speak, one of Holly’s shoes flew across the room and hit the shorter man on the side of the face. His head snapped in her direction. I could see a heel print burning bright red above his eye. I felt the blood rush to my face as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Channeling Carlos Beltrán, I swung for the fences. The lamp’s glass shade connected squarely with Holly’s shoe print. He crashed backward, his body slamming against the door. A shard of glass had opened a good-sized gash above his left eye.

Crouching low, with his arms spread wide, he dove for my legs. Instantly my feet went out from under me, smashing me facedown into the tile floor.

The other man stepped over our tangled bodies as he advanced toward Holly. Holly inched backward with her right hand behind her back.

“Just cooperate, and no one will hurt you,” the advancing man said to Holly.

Before he could complete the sentence, she revealed her right hand. Her clenched fist erupted in a well-aimed stream of pepper spray. “Get out of my room!”

“Fuck!” he shouted, leaning over and rubbing his eyes.

Holly darted around him and ran toward the door.

The short man and I both scrambled to our feet. While he was distracted by his partner’s screams, I followed Holly to the door.

From behind me, I heard, “Freeze! Don’t move!”

I turned in time to see the short man’s hand plunge into his half-unzipped jacket. His hand emerged, tightly gripping a semiautomatic pistol. He aimed directly at my head with only one eye, his vision obscured by the flow of blood.

I sucked in a breath, knowing I was in over my head. Defeated. Holly’s hands froze on the knob, her back now pressed against the door.

The tall guy held up one hand and kept the other one over his eyes. “No … not yet. Only if he jumps.”

Jumps where?
Now my heart was really thudding. They couldn’t possibly know about … could they?

I took a large step backward, but tripped on the lamp now lying on the floor, and felt something catch around my ankle. Once again, my feet went out from under me.

A booming sound rang in my ears, followed by Holly’s scream. Then everything seemed to stop—my heart, my breath … time.

Holly fell to the ground and I wanted to shout, to drop down beside her, but the second the seeping red blood started to show through her robe, I jumped. This time I couldn’t seem to control it.

But right before everything turned black, I saw it. Her chest rose and then fell again. She was alive and I just left her there.

CHAPTER FIVE

I spit out a mouthful of something strawlike and realized I was lying facedown in the grass. Somewhere. Somewhen. My heart was pounding. It hadn’t even felt like a jump.

The sun warmed the back of my neck. I shouldn’t have felt the heat so much. This was different from a normal jump.
Something
was different.

It must have been a dream … or I’d hit my head. Maybe I hadn’t even had a fight with Holly? Maybe none of that had happened? Acid churned in my stomach just thinking of the sickening image of her lying in a heap on the floor.

I pulled myself up from the grass and tripped over something, falling flat on my face again. And I felt the painful impact of my body colliding with the ground. Based on how much it hurt, this was definitely home base. My black bag lay at my feet. I must have dragged it with me.

After forcing my eyes to focus, I realized this was Central Park. Right near my building. My legs felt like lead as I stepped closer to the sidewalk. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tilted it so I could see the time. It was completely blank. After banging it against my thigh a few times, I gave up and asked a woman passing me on the sidewalk, “Do you know what time it is?”

“A little after six,” she said as she jogged past.

The aches running through my entire body were so intense, I had to stop and sit down on a bench.

“You okay?” an old man asked from beside me.

“Fine, thanks,” I said, leaning my head back. I just needed to rest for a minute. Right before I closed my eyes, the old man’s newspaper came into focus and I jolted upright after reading the date.

September 9, 2007.

What in the freakin’ hell is going on?

“Is that … um, today’s paper?” I asked.

“Yes, sir,” the man said before going back to his casual whistling.

Nope. Couldn’t be right. Just some weirdo reading a paper that was two years old. I stared at it for a few more seconds. A large drop of water fell onto the date at the top of the page. We both looked up at the sky to see the dark clouds moving in. The man folded his paper and stood.

“Didn’t say anything in here about rain today,” he said before walking off.

Okay, so far all I had was a newspaper that said this exact day was two years in the past. Well … the past for
me
anyway.

I ran down the sidewalk as the raindrops grew more frequent. I spotted a police officer standing under a tree and raced toward him, not caring in the least about getting soaked.

“Excuse me, Officer. Do you know today’s date?”

“The ninth,” he mumbled, not even looking me in the eye.

“Of September?”

He snorted a laugh. “Yeah.”

“Of 2009, right?”

He rolled his eyes and pushed past me. “Damn kids! 2009?”

The panic that followed his words felt like caffeine being injected straight into my veins. I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe the rain from my eyes and searched for a third source.

Henry, one of the doormen at my building, would be perfect, but was there another me here somewhere? Couldn’t risk it. I took off in the opposite direction of my building, toward the coffee shop.

The raindrops were cold as ice and my teeth chattered as I opened the door to Starbucks. The chick at the counter straightened up and smiled. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”

I scanned the empty tables for a neglected copy of the
Times.
“Um … yeah. I’ve been busy. With … you know, school.”

She laughed and I turned to face her. She looked a little familiar, but it could just be the uniform. “Come on, you’ve been trampling around Europe all summer.”