15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series) (12 page)

His
eyes bug. “You have to tell the police.”

“I
can’t,” I insist. “They’ll hurt Molly.”

He
takes a deep breath and gazes off into the distance, clearly thinking. “Then
we’ll have to go get the papers.”

My
heart jumps. “You know what they’re talking about?”

He
stares at me, incredulous. “Is now the time for jokes? Of course I know where
they are. You hid them at the YMCA.”

Suddenly
everything is crystal clear. The key in my wallet is a locker key. My mouth
falls open in shock. I try to cover it up but no such luck.

“You
really didn’t remember?”

“It’s
been a hard week, okay?” I shrug him off, defensive.

“Okay,
okay,” he says, holding his hands up.

I
try to hide my smirk. “Sorry. So this is all I need? Just the key. Well, that
seems pretty easy—”

Donovan
shakes his head. He takes me by the arm and leads me out of his room into a
home office. He goes under the desk, where I hear him pull something from
underneath. He reaches out and pops a flash drive into my hand.

The
flash drive.

“This
is it,” I whisper to myself, but Donovan thinks I’m talking to him.

“Part
of it. You get the paper documents. Then you have everything.”
 
He
smoothes
my hair
and kisses my lips. “Be careful.”

I
nod, hanging onto him. “This isn’t good-bye.”

His
eyes twinkle. “It better not be.”

We
walk to the front door, and I pause on the front steps. “Donovan, be careful.”

He
nods.

I
turn the corner around some bushes, finally on the street, and two police
officers step out from their squad car. I swear under my breath as I nearly
crash into them.

“Ms.
Montgomery, your parents are looking for you.”

If
getting into trouble was a career, I’d be at the top of the ladder.

Hiding
out in my room might be a bad idea, but that’s exactly what I do. Mom comes in
and sits on my bed but is silent for too long, making me anxious.

“Lara,”
she laments, “do you know how worried we were?”

“You’re
not going to yell at me?” I ask. “I’d yell at me.”

“Then
why do it? Why sneak out and go to Donovan’s?”

A
lot of answers would work, but I decide to go with the truth. “I was tired of
being alone and scared. He…always makes me feel better.”

She
exhales. “It’s me. I drove you to him by how I acted last night. God, I’m
sorry, Lara.” She strokes my hair off my face. “I’m real sorry. I didn’t mean
to make you feel any of those things.”

“Yes
you did,” I whisper.

Shock
fills her face, but she nods and tears glisten in her eyes. “You’re right, and
that makes me even sadder and angrier at myself.”

We
hold hands. “I’m glad you’re not mad.”

She
gives a short burst of nervous laughter. “Well, how can I be? My daughter has
been kidnapped. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Can
I ask you something?”

She
nods. “Of course.”

 
“When did you fall in love with
Jax
?”

Her
mouth falls in astonishment. “Lara, where is this coming from?”

“Please
tell me. Honestly. Please.”

She
rubs her hands on her pants and shifts. “The moment I met him, the attraction
was instant, and I did my best to avoid him, keep it at bay, but we spent a lot
of time together. And your father…I loved him too, but we were under a lot of
stress. We lost our way.”

“When
did Dad find out?”

She
shrugs and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t think he knew. After the
day in the alley, I swore I’d never see
Jax
again.
I’d move us to the mountains in a log cabin if I had to.” She laughs bitterly.

“So
you wanted to stay?”

“Of
course I did! But after the police started questioning your Dad, he changed. He
became jumpy, and then…our life changed forever.” I watch her twist her wedding
ring around her finger. “We waited until after the trial to date again and got
married a year later. We were happy … and I never expected to get pregnant
again.” She takes a deep breath. “But it’s been a good life. We’ve been happy,
for the most part.”

“I’m
sorry I’m such a crummy daughter,” I say, wringing my hands together.

“You’re
doing what you’re supposed to be doing. I’m the one who needs to step it up.”
She kisses my cheeks.

“Does
Rewind have you working on stuff that’s illegal?”

Her
eyes cloud over. “Where is this coming from?”

“I
saw it … in the paper. Some reporter's questions.”

 
“Memory storage isn’t illegal!” she says,
standing up. “It’s a good company and not one to mess around with illegal
things. Don’t listen to those phony articles; they are designed to sell
magazines. Don’t worry, Lara. My job is perfectly safe. Once we get Molly back,
everything will go back to normal.”

Her
tone signals the conversation is over. Even though I know she’s lying, part of
me believes her. She’s as good a liar as I am.

Once
she leaves, I make my plan to escape. I need to head to the YMCA and find those
papers, but I look out the window and see two police officers guarding the
premises. There’s no way I can get out while it’s still light. Hopefully, I can
get out later, when it’s dark and people are beginning to fall asleep.

That’s
my plan.

I
only have thirty hours left.

***

I
pack a duffle bag for the night. As I’m storing a flashlight, I hear a rumbling
downstairs about an early dinner. Everyone is on edge, so I go out quietly, but
I bump into
Jax
in the hall by the front steps. His
eyes flash with surprise, and then I see sadness, anger cross his face.

“Dad,”
I say softly, reaching for his arm, “I’m sorry about this morning, sneaking out
after we talked.”

He
nods, and for a brief moment I’m off the hook. “You always promise, and you
never mean it, Lara. That’s the problem. You’re … too spontaneous. You need to
think sometimes about how your actions affect other people.” He turns and
leaves for the stairs, leaving me feeling guilty.

But
I can get her back. I just need some time away from the FBI.

I
head downstairs to eat pizza with the family. We have a quiet, strange dinner
in the living room, while the agents eat against the wall. The entire thing is
like a weird sort of funeral or wake, where no one wants to talk, but a deep
foreboding fog hangs over the room. I can think of no chit chat that would be
worthy of the space, and apparently neither can anyone else. Even Mike folds
his pizza three times before being content enough to bite into it.

I
need to get some medicine soon to cut off the edge of an oncoming headache
before I have a full blown incident. I stand up and am mentioning getting a
drink from the kitchen when I hear a crash upstairs.

Everyone
jumps to their feet, and
Jax
pulls Mike in close to
his chest to protect him. Two agents sprint up the stairs while two stay with
us. Everyone thinks someone is inside the house, but I’m safe and at ease as if
everything will be okay.

“Lara,”
Mom says painfully.

My
eyes flash to the anchor talking on the TV. I grab the remote to raise the
volume. “It seems, Jack, that the guards were able to gather control in the
prison shortly after the riot broke out. There were a few injuries, but only
one inmate was critically injured, and he’s being rushed to MGH Hospital via
helicopter. His name hasn’t yet been released to the hospital, but next of kin
will be notified.”

That’s
the prison Dad is in. When the phone rings behind Mom, I know what the news
will be.

But
Jack the anchor isn’t done yet. He continues. “What about leaked reports that a
woman was seen inside the prison with … purple hair?”

Everything
in me grows still, and I turn to Mom, who is holding the receiver in mid-air.
There's something I haven’t seen on her face before.

Fear.

“You
know her?” I demand, walking up to her. “You know the woman with the purple
hair?”

She
shakes her head. “No, I…I don’t know who she is …”

“Liar,”
I snarl. “It’s written all over your face. Who is she?”

She
hangs up the phone. “I don’t know! Well, I have seen her. Flashes. Like a
ghost. B-b-but-but I have no idea who she is.” She cries into her hands.

“Does
she work with you? The Senator?”

“What
do you know about my work with the Senator?” Her nostrils flare.

The
FBI agents are back behind us, apparently unable to find anyone in the house,
which should make me feel better, but it doesn’t.
Jax
and Mike are still there, but I’ve forgotten them as I stare down my mother.

“Enough,”
I spit out. “Enough to know you’re into illegal research. That memory storage
is nothing but a cover.”

Mom
gasps. “You went through my papers? In my office? Damn it, Lara! Do you have
any idea what you’ve done!”

My
chest puffs up. “Well, excuse me if I needed information. I needed answers, and
you never give me anything. Everything is all hugs and kisses, and oh, we’ll go
on vacation soon, but you know what? Vacation never comes. You’ve been saying
this for years. Years! So what’s so damn important that you can’t talk to me?
Spend time with us? We were supposed to be a family!”

Mom
cries into her fist, but I don't care.

“Why
is working for the Senator so important that you’d throw us all away!”

Jax
tugs on my shoulders. “Enough, Lara! Your mom
has been through enough. Up to your room.”

I
spin on my heels, wanting to wave my finger in his face. He doesn’t know what
I’ve done, what I’ve given up.

“Now,
young lady,”
Jax
scolds me with brow furrowed,
peering down at me over his nose. He’s never looked at me like that. Ever.

I
need to do what he says, and I have never felt so alone.

Up
in my room, I swallow my pain medicine, take a few sips of water, and set my
alarm. Angry as I am, all I can think about is my plan to save Molly.

I
wake up in the dark with my head throbbing and waves of pain colliding into me.
The red glow from the clock blinking
8:00
PM
is all I can see. The ticking of my heart in my brain is louder than it
should be.

I
groan, fall to my knees beside the bed, and squeeze the bridge of my nose. This
is it. Whatever time travel sickness is, it’s going to claim me. I feel as if
someone is taking a vegetable peeler up and down my bones, exposing muscle, and
then pouring salt over my open wounds.

I
manage to crawl over to the desk and snap on my desk lamp after several tries.
My limbs don’t want to listen to the commands I give them. I reach up, find my
bottle of ibuprofen, and fumble with the lid.

The
pressure in my head builds as tablets spill everywhere. I scoop some up and
swallow them dry. I’m not even sure how many, but I’m in misery, and I might go
insane if this agony doesn’t stop. I rest my head on the desk as tears dribble
down my cheeks. I hear banging at my door and realize I've been screaming.

“Lara?”
Jax
bangs again.

“Daddy?”

Briefly,
a vision dances just out of my sight. It ebbs and flows out of my reach like a
skipping record on a DJ's turntable. My fingers grip the carpet, and as the
pounding in my brain gets worse, I eke out a scream and fold forward, cowering,
tearing at the fibers. I never thought pain could be this intense. My body
fights the vision, part of me desperate to hold back the oncoming memory. My
door is kicked open, and the crack of the wood slamming into the wall makes my
brain burn.

“Oh
my God, Lara!”
Jax
takes me by the shoulders and
pulls me back onto his chest. I quake in a spasm, his touch alone enough to
drive me to shrieks. “Miranda!” he screams, unaware how badly he’s hurting me.

I
glance up at him and mumble, “I’m sorry.”

Those
are surely my last words. His face spins, but as the world begins to dim, my
brain clicks like a puzzle.

Mom
screams and clutches at my legs. “Baby? Lara! How many pills did you take?”

As
my consciousness begins to slip away, I can only stare up at
Jax’s
face. It’s older than I remember. Before, his hair
was black and his eyes brown instead of blue.

But
I am certain, one hundred percent certain.

He’s
the shooter from the alley.