Rhythm of My Heart: Speed, Book 3 (5 page)

Fuck
. How stupid was he? How careless?

In the three years since
Speed
had soared to fame, he’d never acted so impulsively, so thoughtlessly. But then he’d never had cause. Never met anyone like Eve before. Never wanted to kiss a woman at the expense of his reputation and hers.

Zachary might be used to the lights and fame. He might be used to the paparazzi dogging his every move, but he doubted Eve was. And he was furious at himself for putting her in this position. He knew exactly what the pap was capable of, and he hated them for it.

Knowing there was no alternative but to acknowledge the attention, Zachary lifted his arm in a silent salute and waved.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You got me.” He smiled, shamefaced, at the crowd around him. He should be shamefaced, putting the two of them in this position.

Then he tucked a shell-shocked Eve under his arm and led her through the room, winding around the thicket of bodies pressing toward them and shaking his head at requests for more photos.

“You didn’t get enough already?” he joked with a grin he in no way felt.

“Is she your girlfriend, Jonah?”

“Another one-night stand, or the real thing?”

“What’s her name?”

“Forget her, Jonah. Take me.”

“Take us both.”

The questions and comments kept flying, and Eve gulped noisily at his side.

“Almost to the door,” he murmured, urging her to keep walking.

“If you ever kiss me again,” Eve griped, “
I
will poke you in the eye, never mind Delilah
.
”

“Ouch,” was his first whispered response, and “It’ll be worth it,” his next.

“Both eyes then.”

They reached the door, and Zachary hurried her out. He shot a meaningful look at one of the bodyguards Luke had organized for the tour.

The man needed no further instruction. As Zachary grabbed Eve’s hand and raced down the hall, two guards placed themselves in the doorway, effectively stopping anyone from following.

They’d barely slipped around the first corner when Eve came to a dead halt.

A soft groan escaped her throat, and her eyes flickered closed.

Chapter Three

“Eve? Tiny? Can you hear me?”

She could. His voice echoed in the periphery of her mind, but she couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t respond. Her vision darkened and spots danced before her eyes.

Darts of heat ran up her arm, originating from the sharp tingles in her hand.

“Christ, you’re pale as a ghost.”

“Sing it, Grandmother, sing it again.”

There were two voices now. One she recognized, one she didn’t. The first was Jonah’s, the second a child’s.

Someone laughed. A woman. “Okay then, Zachary, but this is the last time and then you need to go to sleep. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Eve tried to gain perspective, tried to force herself back into the present. But it was too late. Jonah held her hand. And the tingles had increased so now it felt like electricity pulsing through her arm.

And then Eve wasn’t Eve anymore.

She was Zachary, the child sitting cross-legged on his bed, listening, rapt, to his grandmother sing.

I have a song to sing with you,

Believe these words we know are true.

He loved the song. Loved the images it inspired every time his grandmother sang it.

Feel it in the rhythm of your heart,

See the time your love will start.

Zachary’s heart began to pound. He closed his eyes.

She’s out there now, quietly waiting,

Red hair, green eyes…fascinating.

And there she was, a clear picture in his mind. Long red hair tumbled over her back, and her green eyes sparkled with laughter.

Warmth filled him from the inside out. Happiness snuck into his bones. No, he didn’t know her yet. Wouldn’t know her for a long time. But one day…

Appearances fool, you have been warned,

Follow your instinct, don’t be torn.

Zachary had no idea what the last lines meant. All he knew was the woman in his head—the woman he saw every time his grandmother, Edna, sang him his lullaby—would eventually be his.

“Eve! I need you to answer me.”

The tingles in her hand ceased. The electricity racing through her arm faded to harmless static, and she lay suspended in the air. Eve opened her eyes, and the world spun around her.

Not standing.

No, she definitely wasn’t standing. She lay horizontal, her right arm hanging limply at her side and the other arm, like the left side of her torso, squashed against a hard wall of warmth.

“Zachary?”

“Wha—? Jesus!”

Ah, it was the adult voice again. The one she recognized. The deep baritone, like the boom of a drum. Jonah’s voice.

Jonah’s body. That’s what she was pressed against. He held her, one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back.

She looked up at him, dazed. “Who’s Edna?”

Jonah blanched.

And then they were moving. Or rather he was moving, striding down the hotel corridor, carrying her. He came to a stop outside a door, and using the wall and his body to support her, dropped one arm and fished around in his pocket. In seconds he had a key card.

He gave it to her. “Take it, please. Open the door.”

Shakily, she slid the card into the lock as he caught her full weight in his arms once again. She pushed the door open.

Jonah had her inside and lying on a couch before the door clicked shut.

“Lie there.” He pointed at her. “Don’t move. Just take a few deep breaths and I’ll be right back.”

Too dizzy to argue, she dropped her head on the cushion and again closed her eyes. The melody of Grandmother Edna’s song drifted through her mind, but she couldn’t remember the words. What she could remember, vividly, were the emotions little Zachary had felt when he heard the song. When he pictured the redhead.

“Are you up to taking a sip of water?”

His voice was close to her ear, and she turned to look at him. Jonah knelt beside the couch, his face pale, his green gaze agitated.

“I think so.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders again, lifting her upper body and bringing a glass to her lips.

She took a few sips. “Thank you. That’s enough.”

He settled her down and sat back on his feet, staring at her. No matter how fuzzy she felt from her vision, Jonah’s presence still packed a punch. This close, Eve found it difficult to draw adequate breath.

“You wanna tell me what just happened?”

Images assailed her, one after the other.

Jonah holding the rose. Jonah laughing. The plate full of truffles. Jonah, kissing her, blowing her mind, taking her sanity. The lights. Thousands of flashes, blinding her. The race to escape. And finally, his arm, reaching towards her…

“My hand,” she explained.

He stared at her, baffled.

“You held my hand.”

He narrowed his eyes, as though concentrating. “I did.”

“That’s what happened,” she clarified.

Jonah jumped to his feet. “I’m calling reception. We’ll get you a doctor.”

She shook her head, then wished she hadn’t. It made the dizziness worse. “There’s no need for a doctor. I’m fine.”

“Lady,” Jonah said, obviously worried. “No one has ever zoned out on me like that. You need a doctor.”

“You’ve never held my hand before,” she pointed out.

He leaned over and touched her neck. “You’re white as a sheet and making no sense. Please, let me get someone up here to check you out.”

She grabbed his wrist, holding it tight. “I promise, I’m fine. I just need to get my balance back. This always happens afterwards.”

“What always happens? After what?”

“Hands.” She lifted hers and dropped it back down. “I feel dizzy. Discombobulated. But in a few minutes I’ll be right.”

“And this happens after holding my hand?”

“Not just yours.”

“You get dizzy when you hold anyone’s hand?”

“No, only certain people.”

Jonah shoved a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Eve, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She sighed and looked up at the ceiling before closing her eyes again. The giddiness subsided quicker if she kept them shut. “I have a…gift. A talent, you might call it.”

“What kind of gift?”

“The gift of sight.”

Silence, then, “Oh.” More silence. “Huh?”

“I see things. Images, snippets, pieces of people’s lives.”

Her words were met with more silence.

She took a deep, fortifying breath
. Let the freak show begin.

“Often, when I hold a person’s hand, I’m hit with flashes of that person’s life. Sometimes it’s an image of the past, sometimes the present and sometimes the future. If I don’t know the person well, it’s impossible to tell which it is.”

“Hell.” The word was a whisper.

“Sometimes it’s a picture, like a photograph. Sometimes just words or maybe a conversation I overhear. Maybe I’ll see images, like I’m watching a movie, but there are times when it’s much more than that.”

“Much more how?”

“I merge with the person whose hand I’m holding. Become one with him or her. Instead of seeing the vision like a passive observer, I become part of it. Live it like the person has—or will.”

What Eve neglected to tell Jonah was the latter only happened when the person whose hand she held had significance in her life. It was almost as though the more important that person was to her, the more she saw.

At the best of times, Eve’s visions left her rattled. But this one, this snippet of Jonah’s life, worried her like none ever had before.

She didn’t know the man. Had met him just a few hours ago. They’d shared nothing more than harmless conversation and a few roses. Oh, yeah, and a soul-shattering kiss. And yet she’d merged with him. Lived his life.

At least she assumed it was his life.

“Jonah?”

“Yeah?” He sounded distracted.

“Who’s Zachary?”

This time the silence stretched on endlessly.

Eve couldn’t bear it. It echoed through her ears, deafening her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, only to find him staring back, his expression confused, cautious.

“That’s the second time you’ve said the name,” he finally said.

“I merged with him. A child named Zachary.”

“What did he look like?”

Eve shrugged. “I don’t know. While I could see what he saw and hear what he heard, I couldn’t see him.” She hummed the song Edna had sung.

Jonah’s jaw dropped.

“His grandmother was singing to him.” The word struck a chord. Hadn’t Jonah spoken about his grandmother earlier, when he’d first given her the roses?

“His grandmother?” Jonah’s eyes widened.

“Edna.” The refined, beautifully dressed woman. “Brown eyes, brown hair. Although she was graying, rather grandly I might add.”

Jonah collapsed into a chair. “My grandmother.”

“Edna’s your grandmother?”

“Was.” His face fell. “She died a few years ago.”

She left him to his thoughts, let him assimilate what she’d told him. Though the visions were different every time, she was used to them. She’d been having them for eleven years, ever since the explosion. This was all brand new for him.

“Zachary? The kid you saw…or merged with?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s me.”

“You’re Zachary?”

“Zachary Pace. It’s my real name.”

“What about Jonah?”

“Stage name. And middle name.”

“Ah.”

And then they were both silent for a while.

Jonah came to sit beside her on the couch, perching on the edge of the cushions. She scooched up to make space for him.

“Tell me more. Tell me all of it.”

She told him, describing everything she’d seen and heard.

Jonah stared. “That lullaby my grandmother sang was her special song for me. She and I were the only ones who knew it. Until now, no one else has ever heard it.”

“It seemed to make you happy.”

He smiled. “It did. It gave me a sense of my future.”

“So, have you met her yet?”

“Met who?”

“Your future. The redhead from your imagination.” Her heart squeezed painfully as she asked.