Wynter's Horizon (41 page)

“I had a dream about this,” she commented then took a long swig of beer.

My drink lodged in my throat. Some surprises sucked. I swallowed hard.

“What?” Quinn asked.

“This. Just a few days ago. I dreamed we were sitting out here talking.”

My stomach clenched. I had the same dream, exactly the same.

“What’d we talk about?” I asked carefully.

She grinned, combing her hands through her hair and twisting it up into a knot, sending waves of vanilla and baby powder through the air.

“I don’t know. School, my classes, London. I’ve been having a lot of dreams since you left. With you, of course. A lot of times we’re on a beach.”

Quinn looked at me over her head, widening his eyes. I stared back equally baffled. What the hell did this mean? Could our connection from our unconscious states be translating into the real world? If so, why now? I wondered what Wynter would say if I told her. It was hard enough accepting the abnormal when it was tangible. It was another to believe in altered states where ghosts and sprits existed.

Wynter took another long swallow and smiled at me. My stomach unclenched, as it always did when I was near her. I smiled back. It would be okay. We had been through worse.

Chapter Seventy-Five

Wynter—The Far East

I woke up early, unusual for me. I lay in bed listening to the morning coming awake outside. The birds chirped. I turned to Beck’s sleeping form. He was usually the first one up so I’d never just watched him sleep. He looked peaceful, his hair messed up, one hand folded under his pillow, the other off the side of the bed.

I slid out of bed and quietly got changed for running. I grabbed my iPhone and searched for my headphones and sneakers, glancing at him now and then, but he was still sleeping. It was hard to believe he’d only gotten back a few months ago. The time we’d spent together had flown by, feverish summer nights giving way to cool fall ones, one day blending into another. Some mornings, we scarcely made it out of the bedroom, hardly registered the sun before we traipsed back to bed. He was more open with me now, divulging things he had done in his past, even sharing stories about the others he knew. There were still times he remained reticent and quiet. I tried to accept it, to not question him or doubt myself that he would tire of me. He’d chosen to come back; there was no reason why he wouldn’t stay.

It took all my willpower to head home to the city now that school had started. I dreaded leaving, and hated my empty bed in the apartment. We had agreed to spend the weekdays separate so I could concentrate on school. We kept extending the time, though, with him traveling down to see me on Thursdays and me going back with him and staying over Sundays. I knew my studies were suffering, but I couldn’t care. I’d waited a long time for someone to love like this, for someone to love me.

I found my sneakers under the bed and crept closer to the door, but his free hand gently reached out for me, resting on my calf. I wondered how long he’d been awake.

“Where are you off to?” He mumbled from the pillow.

“I’m going running. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I spent the night watching you sleep.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Never.” He turned his head and cracked an eye open at me, grinning. “Can I interest you in coming back to bed?”

“No. I need the exercise.”

“Don’t I give you enough?”

“Ha. Plenty, and very satisfying, but I want to run this morning. Want to come?”

He contemplated this. “More than you know.” He smiled slyly with his eyes closed.

“Dirty mind, I meant running. I’ll be back for breakfast. Quinn promised to fight with me this morning. We’re working on my side kicks. You can come down and give me tips, too.”

“No. That’s okay. He is a better fighter than I am. Just don’t tell him I said so.”

I stepped through the doorway. “Hey,” he called, “be careful out there. Don’t get hit by a car.”

“Its eight a.m. on a Sunday. I think I’m fairly safe.”

“Yeah, I know.”

***

It was sunny with a cool breeze that ruffled the turning leaves: the perfect morning for a run. Stretching out my back as I walked up the driveway, I pulled my arm across my body, waiting for that familiar twinge then smiled. I just kept forgetting. I didn’t need to do that anymore. It hadn’t hurt for months now. I thought about the other change since Beck attacked me. My dreams. I’d had lots of nightmares after the accident, but lately, my dreams had changed. Not only did I see Beck, but now a third guy sometimes showed up and stood on the beach with us. Some guy I recognized but sure as hell didn’t remember from where. It was weird. I shook my head to get rid of his image. I was with someone who was basically supernatural so a few strange dreams were nothing in comparison.

Scrolling through my playlist on my phone, I touched the screen and the opening bars to “Viva la Vida” hummed through my earphones. I turned off the dirt road and onto the street, my feet falling into the rhythm of the music pulsing in my ears. I smiled again, this time thinking of Beck’s response if he’d heard the volume of my music. I couldn’t hear my own feet, much less a car on the road.

It was hard to believe that one night in a New London bar had become this. I remembered the night I’d stood on his deck and we talked about Christopher Columbus going off course. A lot had happened since then.

It had taken us a while, but we had finally found the Far East. I smiled, sprinting up Green End Avenue before making the final turn back to his place. We were not a great love story, and I was good with that.

Chapter Seventy-Six

Beck—The Future

I lay in bed after she left, thinking of her naked body. I stretched out and, closing my eyes for a second, listened for her heart. Once I heard it, I relaxed.

I hadn’t yet told Wynter about meeting before, or our mutual dreams. I knew I had to come clean with her, but I didn’t want to jeopardize anything. Besides, I figured it might be easier if I had more information before I divulged the new weirdness that permeated my life. Why was it, once one area of life worked out, another area went out of whack?

I thought about the last few months as I showered. Despite these bumps in the road, things had been good. I wouldn’t have believed it, but I loved her more now than when I had crossed the field at the wedding to kiss her. I wanted her with an intensity I would never have imagined, and worried about her constantly.

The phone rang as I stepped from the shower. I listened for Quinn to answer, but all was silent below so I grabbed it. “Beck,” I answered. There was silence. “Is this a cold call?” I barked into the phone.

“No. It’s Sara.” Her tone was clipped and businesslike.

“Sara. How are you?” I asked, wishing Quinn had picked up and understanding why he hadn’t. I bet he turned his cell phone off trying to avoid her. She must have been desperate to call on this line. She wasn’t one to back down. He hadn’t said much since he had returned, though once or twice I had heard his voice raised in frustration and anger. I assumed he had been talking with her. Only Sara could make him that angry.

“I’m not speaking to you, Beck, until you end this stupidity.” I wondered how long this would go on. I had no intentions of going back.

“Sara. Cut me some slack. I’ve made my decision. You’re just going to have to live with it.”

“I don’t think so, Beck. I don’t think so. Are you really telling me you aren’t going to work anymore? You’re going to walk away and never do another drop. I call bullshit on that.”

“Sara, I know Wynter and I are different, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.”

“The fuck you do. Have you told her about everything you’ve done? Have you told her how you met?”

Damn it, Quinn!
“I’ll get him for you,” I bit out through clenched teeth. So much for the new tact.

“Thank you.”

I pounded on the basement door until Quinn answered, his eyes at half mast, his hair in disarray.

“What?”

Holding the phone out, I smiled at him sarcastically. He started backing up. “She knows,” I mouthed and handed him the phone. He grabbed it, gesturing at me furiously as I retreated quickly.

I made coffee while contemplating what Sara had said. I didn’t know where our future lay, and I certainly didn’t know about our past and our dreams. I wasn’t stupid or blind. I knew beyond all those strange occurrences that, at a basic level, there were some things that couldn’t be bridged or fixed. I had spent the past year lost in those differences. But I also knew that, when I was with her, all the problems and issues seemed to fade into nothingness. Before her, my life had been violence and death and, though I knew it wasn’t over, at least now I felt some meaning and some peace. I didn’t want to lose her.

She had been right that night on the deck. We were different—but we saw the same horizon—a horizon I knew bridged this world and some part of the next. We had been there together. Maybe it couldn’t make up for everything, but it was a start.

The End

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