Once Time Passed (A Burdened Novel Book 4), page 11
“Sure,” she chirps with a shrug. “Were you coming to order in The Bistro?” she asks, pointing to the coffee shop. “I can take your order for you.” My gaze drops to the gold, rectangle name plate pinned to her chest. Max. Assistant Manager.
Nodding, I say, “Just got a little distracted.” I follow Max back into the shop and place an order for a large raspberry smoothie. The chair at the small, circular, rustic blue table is hard, like pins and needles to my rear-end. I throw my elbows on the table and it’s as if I’d placed them in putty. With my hands smashed against my face, I’m sinking as a million knives are stabbing through me.
Maybe it wasn’t him. . . Just a lookalike whose presence I could feel crawl over my skin and coat me as I remember Nathan’s doing years ago. Maybe it was a mirage, the memory of a smile haunting me. It could’ve been my eyes playing a trick on me. They’ve done it before. . .
“Here you go,” comes with a thud against the metal table top.
“Thank you,” I mumble, sliding my hands to rest beneath my chin. I wish I had the ability to control the millions of thoughts going through my mind. I wish I wouldn’t have frozen when I saw him. Even if I don’t tell him the truth, we could’ve at least talked. God, do I want to talk to him? If our mating is in fact broken, then our being around each other is harmless. Maybe. . .
Smoothie clutched against my side by my arm and hands overloaded with my overflow of bags, I leave The Bistro. A murky blue has cast itself over the natural color of the once beautiful day, sulking me with a heavy depression I thought I’d left in the past.
Screeching tires break color through my haze. I jump, bags plummeting from my hands, smoothie crushed, splattering in my face.
“Hey,” yells a familiar voice. “You okay?” Jerking my attention to my left, again, I meet peaceful eyes, a relaxing smile, and slacked shoulders. “You’re kinda dazed today, huh?” he asks.
Playfully chuckling, I try my best to relay I don’t know him. To not look at him with a familiar gaze. To not throw my smoothie drenched arms around his neck and we taste the raspberry drink that’s freezing my face. Coolly, yet embarrassed, I say, “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“That goes without saying, cutie,” he says, laughing once. “Need some help with those bags? I can walk you to your car.”
“No,” I decline, though my chest burns for me to say yes. “I’ve got it.”
“Nah,” he waves his hand dismissively, “Let me help you. Gabe, jump in the driver’s seat! I’m going to walk her to her car.”
“Cool,” Gabe, the young man once in the passenger’s seat says, walking around the car.
Nathan comes to my side as I’m picking up the fourth of six bags. Snatching up the last two, he asks, “Where’d you park?” He passes me the towel I caught the guy in the backseat hand him.
Wiping the smoothie from my neck, I say, “A couple of isles down. I like to park far away to enjoy the walk.”
Laughing once, he says, “I get it. At least thirty-eight percent of Americans are overweight and not many people care about the peace in exercising.”
“Wait a minute,” I say, chuckling. “I never said anything about exercising. That’s your thing.” My breath halts mid-inhale, and I want to take back my words.
“Huh?”
I play it off with a nudge to his arm with my elbow. “It’s more than obvious you’ve never missed a workout.”
He drops his gaze to his muscle. It flexes and releases. “Yeah. It’s a hobby.” I chuckle and listen as he tells me about how important it is to stay healthy. “Hey, are we going to make it to your car any time soon?” Nathan asks when we make it to the sixth row of the parking lot—far from the mall.
Checking my surroundings, I acknowledge, “You passed it.”
“You passed it,” he counters, looking over his shoulder.
Turning on my heels, I spot his car three rows down. Laine and Little Nathan took my car to drive out of town to where the Nemanites were holding a meeting about yet another entity conspiracy. “Sorry. We have to head back this way.”
Laughing, “Okay. My guys are just circling the mall, checking out girls. I don’t think they’ve noticed I’m missing.” He points to the car stopped in front of a group of four girls standing on the sidewalk. “They have nothing better to do with their time.”
“Yeah,” I mutter without looking their direction, my gaze never leaving him.
Our eyes meet. His light-spirited mood depletes, forcing me to look away, assuming it was me who broke his spirits. “I’m right up here,” I say, throwing a quick point to the silver Mercedes.
Suddenly, being at his side is uncomfortable, as if his presence is telling me to depart, as if it knows my being around him is bad. “Thanks for helping me out,” I say, popping the trunk. “It’s rare you find nice people nowadays.”
“Eh. There’s still some nice folks around.” He loads the bags in the car and shuts the trunk. “Be careful heading home.” Striding pass me, I stop him just before he starts in his jog.
I immediately regret grabbing him, but it’s too late to turn back now. “Hey,” my voice is softer than I intend it to be. Shy. “You want to hang out some time?” I’m nervous as all hell asking it, even more nervous awaiting his answer.
He shrugs once and says, “No.”
I die. I die so hard I’m absolutely certain I’m sinking through the concrete and am on a one-way trip to hell. But, somehow, on my shaking legs I’m still standing, but heartbroken. His response shoots through me like a high voltage shock. I knit my brows and play with a few whys but I don’t let them pass my lips.
Laughing—he laughs as though I’ve made a joke. “You look so confused, maybe a little off-put.” Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he says, “Let’s go out tomorrow. We don’t have to hang, people don’t really do that, just fabrics, wires, and things half broken.”
I crack a smile. “That was super lame.” He has no idea he just murdered my soul. . .
“Put your number in my phone. I’ll call you.”
I tap my cell number in his phone and save it under Tracey. Handing the phone back to him, I do my best to avoid allowing our fingers to graze.
He’s jogging off, as I’m approaching the driver’s side of the car. I discretely watch him make it to his and settle in. They drive off.
There’s a sour feeling rolling around in my stomach, just as there’s a thrill sprouting to life in my chest.
Shiver
The front door’s closing when I pull in the driveway. I hold off on going into the house right away, tucking the news deep inside my heart. I doubt they’d believe me anyway, probably write it off to another hallucination. They’d likely tell me to stay away from him too, believing maybe it’s a Qualm, fooling me once again.
I doubt it.
There wasn’t even a glimpse of recognition in Nathan’s eyes. If it were some kind of trick, they would have initiated the conversation, maybe asked me to go out right then.
For an hour, I sit in the car, juggling if I should reveal the news or not. There’s so much that’s against me. Potentially, I could get their hopes up, and it really be an enemy.
Maybe, not telling is the better bet, if he’s not real, if it’s all a rouge, only I will get hurt and they won’t feel the sting of it.
A patter of steps shuffle across the floor and a thud sends me racing upstairs to Taylor’s room. Twisting the knob, I gently push open the door. Jason, holding on to the door’s edge, wobbles out of the room, shoe strings tied in knots.
“Hi Sir.”
“Tracey?” Taylor calls, and a shutter shoots up my spine. “How’d it go?”
Picking up Jason, I enter her room, stuttering, “Fine. Fine. I um, well. You know. It was okay.” I release a quiet sigh and encourage myself to get I together.
The twist of the lamp on her nightstand sounds, followed by her sitting up on the bed. The necklace Nathan gave her a while ago sparkles, even in the lack of sunlight. “You sure? You’re sweating.”
Jason wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes tightly. I take a glance at him and then ideal, “I thought Jason fell out of the bed. I was nervous. It’s always so dark in here. You want to try getting out, we can take Jason to the park or to story time at the library. He needs some air too.”
“Maybe you and Carmen can take him. I don’t feel up to getting out. What’d you buy?”
“Just some things. I’ll bring him back later. Get some rest.”
Jason and I go downstairs to the family room. I convince myself, easily, that though Nathan’s their family more than he was my mate, it’s just right to avoid all areas of confusion for both parties. They’ll understand.
Tiny lips press against my cheek, and Jason smashes his face against mine, holding the other side of my head, to keep me from breaking away. He blows hard then giggles. “Ew, Tracey. Say excuse me.”
“You’re so silly.” I take him to the living room and try him on a couple jackets and shoes I wasn’t sure about the size. “You’re doing okay, big guy?” I ask, always worried about him with Taylor and her depressed state.
“I’d like to watch a movie and eat watermelon,” he says.
I chuckle and admire his innocence. “Sure.”
Little Nathan comes up behind me and picks up Jason. “You got out today, Tracey?”
“Yeah. It was a nice day.” I swallow hard. “Jason wants to watch a movie. I was thinking about taking him to story time at the library.”
“Let’s do it. You’re game for some story time, and then we’ll go to the theater to see a movie on the big screen?”
Jason cheers, wiggling out of Little Nathan’s arms. “Wait. I need to get my spaceship. Then we can go!”
Little Nathan and I entertain Jason for the afternoon. Story time lasts about an hour, and we check out some live animation movie that Jason’s ten times past excited to see.
I’m checking my phone every twenty seconds. Butterflies have been ripping through my stomach since I handed him his phone, hoping he’ll use the number he asked for. He said tomorrow, but I want it today. Like, what if he doesn’t call, what if he wasn’t interested and only took my number to get me out of his way, what if he lost his phone and didn’t back it up and my number won’t carry over to his new phone? What if he really was a Qualm, or a hallucination, or something worse?
The what if’s. . . They are flying at me like worker bees. Anything, anything could be the case, but I won’t know until I know for sure. Because what if it is him?
Could, maybe, Tara’s being a hallucination really be me telling myself my mate was out there because my eyes saw something my heart knew wasn’t true?
Sigh.
Jason bumps my arm, handing me his packet of fruit snacks. I open it and hand it back, and am rewarded with a hug to my arm. Nathan would love hanging out with Jason. They’d be best friends. He loved kids but dared to have one of his own. Almost like he feared the idea. After listening to Tara’s story and Laine confirming some truth to it, I can see why.
Nathan always said he could never have his own family. Not that he had control over him being able to conceive a child, but as if it weren’t even an option, a choice. Maybe, for Burdeneds, that’s actually how they feel. He’d already broken two rules, breaking the third, he wouldn’t dare risk the fate, the life of our children. I want to say, regardless, we would do any and everything to protect them, but it’s been proven, those broken promises are weightless, empty words; hopes. We can hope nothing will happen, but they’re no guarantees. I get that now.
It’s tomorrow. My phone’s clutched in my hand, and I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror in my bra and panties holding back my negative thoughts as to why the phone’s been silent.
My eyes cloak black on my next blink, and I see me, blazing with my rage like a fire around me. My snake of fire’s eyes revel in mine and the malevolence within me reminds me of the image that Qualm who had pretended to be Nathan showed me.
I don’t want to be filled with a darkness people fear, like the Qualm who attacked me at my apartment; just by looking in my eyes. For Qualms—for enemies—maybe that’s not so bad. But, this girl—woman—she is not pleasant in the least. And the daring gaze, there is nothing but death that will lie in anyone’s future who wrongly crosses her path. She smiles, confirming.
The phone buzzes in my hand, snapping me back.
Immediately, without acknowledging the number, I tap to answer. “So,” Nathan sings after I say hello. “You give many men your number without getting their name?”
I laugh at his remark, seeing how right he is. If I’m going to keep this up, I’ll have to be a lot smarter about this. “No. I rarely give any man my number.” Or out all, I’ve not gotten the slightest ‘Hey Beautiful,’ in so long, I was beginning to believe I wasn’t or wasn’t interesting enough to spare the time of a compliment. “But you’re right. Proper introductions are in order.”
“I’m Nate, Tracey. Nice to be acquainted with you.”
“Same, Nate,” I say and direct the conversation to what he has planned for us to do tonight.
“I can pick you up around nine,” he offers.
Scared of him being seen, I decline, offering, “I can meet you instead.”
He laughs at this. He actually does a lot of that. . .laughing. It makes me smile. I do a lot of smiling as we chat, his peaceful joy filling me up. Our conversation is light and effortless, he’s so . . . not the tense Nathan I remember. And recalling, every time he asks me questions about my likes and dislikes, that he’s talking to a stranger, sours my pallet. It’s, indeed, bittersweet.
Our conversation lasts only seven minutes, us settling on bowling. “I’ll see you in an hour then?” I ask.
“Bye, Tracey.”
The phone lands on the bed when I toss it.
A double knock sounds against my bedroom door as I’m heading back to the closet.
“Yeah?” I call, after exiting the closet, now dressed and ready to go. My first mistake of the night.
The setting sun dips Laine’s pale skin in a warm orange that finally puts some color on his flesh. It lasts only a second as he continues into the room. “Where are you going?” Approaching me, he flips a curl over my shoulder. “You look nice too. Is this a date?”
I’m eager to shake my head. “Just felt looking alive for once.” Actually, the first I’ve cared about my appearance in a long time.
“Well, you did good. You, Carmen, and me can go out. There’s this new band playing at that place called Twisted Beers in the city.”
Laine and Carmen are two of the greatest friends. I couldn’t have gotten through the past year without them and Little Nathan, but while I hate the idea of turning them down, I won’t be passing up the opportunity awaiting me at Cones Bowling Alley. “I’ll sit this one out. You two leaving now?”
“Maybe later. Let me know if you change your mind, we’ll wait for you. You getting all dressed up to stay in the house doesn’t seem right.”
Giggling, I brush off his banter. “Yeah, but as long as I feel good is all that matters, right?”
“Right.” He rubs my arms, then turns on his heels. Closing the doors behind him, I wait to hear him enter another room. When Little Nathan cuts on his music, like he does most nights after making sure everyone is okay—I believe he does it to drown out the voices—I creep out the back door.
Forty-five minutes from home, I drive to the address Nathan provided; a place that’s a mix between a bar and bowling alley. Accompanied by the two guys I saw him with yesterday and two girls, I spot Nathan standing out in the crowd. The tallest of the four, he draws all attention to himself, a smile brighter than fresh white walls, eyes glimmering with exhilaration, presence overflowed with a joyous peace I could never provide him, his aura welcomes me to him.
Approaching, I’m nervous. My legs turn to jello and my hands are shaking. Another step forward, my teeth are chattering and sweat’s beading my forehead.
This is a mistake.
Eventually, it’ll come to light that I’m bad for him—that we’re each other’s demise. I halt. I’m near enough to be heard if I were to raise my voice, but not close enough to be acknowledged.
I want to fight for him, chase what’s mine, claim what I’ve lost. But I can’t. I can’t push myself to close this short four feet of distance, tap his shoulder, and continue to act like I never met him a day in life. He’s different, the man I caught glimpses of while we were together during our lighter days. The upbeat, lighthearted guy that kept me in love with him. The guy who didn’t hold an indication of darkness in his eyes, and I didn’t have to try so hard to keep him balanced as he battled his beast. Whoever or whatever did this to him, I wish it could’ve been me three years ago.
Turning, I take my place in his forgotten past.
I’m running—fleeing.
As I’m snatching open the door, someone’s helping me yank it.
“Did something come up?” Comes from behind me.
Steps glued to the ground, I take a slow glance over my shoulder. My heart warms and shudders crawl over my body. Months I would’ve died to see him again, days I’ve cried over losing him, hours I’ve replayed the moment he was snatched away from me, and minutes I’ve counted since that day I died. I felt him die, feet before me, the two of us soaking in his blood. I heard the last of his breath leave his body, I felt anything left of him get sucked from me.
How can he be standing here?
“It’s cool, but you’re going to leave me as a fifth wheel in there.” He throws a point over his shoulder. “Not that I would blame you, I’d skip out on me too.” Dropping his gaze to the bowling shoes tied tight on his feet, he says, “These things will kill anyone’s swag.” They tap the ground.
I close-lip smile, amused by his lighthearted humor of being jetted on. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you saw me.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he admits, “I didn’t. I kinda felt you there. Like ESP. But when I turned around, you were running away. Everything okay, though?” he cricks his neck, causing his head to tilt. “You look a little sick.”
