Lost Time (10 page)

He sits there with his hands in his lap for almost a minute. “Why don’t you take the food and go? I’ll get something in the morning.”

His dismissal cuts me like falling shards of glass from a smashed mirror.

“You’re right,” I finally say. “You do make me uncomfortable, but not for the reasons you think.”

“So what is it, Lani?” He turns on me, his expression fierce. “What do you say we stop with the doctor-patient bullshit? I haven’t told you everything about my past because you wouldn’t believe me. But despite what you think, I’m not a serial rapist or a psychopathic killer.”

“I never said you were.”

“Why am I even arguing with you? You insist on treating me like a child. Nothing I say matters.”

“You are the most infuriating, pain-in-the-
akole
patient I’ve ever met, Diego Nadales. Why do you insist on making it impossible for me to do my job?”

“Can you stop doing your goddamn job for once? Just for ten minutes be real with me?”

“I am being real, Diego. This
is
my life. I’m a mother and a doctor, and the instant I start hoping for more, it’ll all come crashing down.”

“What are you saying, Lani?”

“I can’t go home at night and take off the monster costume, Diego. Not even for you.”

“Is
that
what this is all about?” he says, lifting his hands in the air. “Your goddamn scars?” He moves his feet off the footrests and lifts his body with his arms. “I don’t even see them anymore, Lani. I haven’t for months.” He looks over at the couch, calculating how hard it will be to throw himself onto it, and the doctor in me kicks in.

“Don’t even think about it,” I say. “I didn’t spend the better part of a year healing you just to watch you throw it all away because your feelings are hurt.”

“I’m not attempting to climb Mount Everest, doctor.”

“I d-don’t c-care what the f-fuck you’re pro-p-posing,” I say.

He winces, and for the first time I see a flash of pity in his eyes.

Who couldn’t feel sorry for the stammering Quasimodo you’ve become?

I force down the voices in my head. “Either you let me help, or I’ll call Becky back in to s-sedate you, and the two of us will throw your s-sorry
akole
back into bed.”

He looks suitably shocked. “You wouldn’t.”

“If you overstress the muscles in your legs, it’ll undo months of progress.”

He lets out an annoyed huff, but sits back down in the wheelchair. “And that would look bad on your résumé?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Nadales.”

He jerks his head around, one eyebrow raised, and then... he smiles, and it disarms me.

I stare at his handsome face, my heart all twisted up in a knot. He’s not at all like Davi
d—
perhaps exactly the opposit
e—
and a part of me can think of nothing except being in his arms again. I want to show him my true feeling
s—
take a chance on finding love.

But you know it would be a mistake. Look how it turned out with David.

He doesn’t move, that silly grin stuck on his face.

“What?” I finally ask.

“I think you kinda like me.”

“Thank you for cooperating,” I say and reach out to him. “And don’t worry. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

“I don’t doubt that one bit.” He places his hands on top of mine, slides his palms up to my wrists, and grabs hold. His touch is cool and strong, and the intimacy of it makes my heart jump into my throat.

Don’t go there, Lani. You’ll only end up getting hurt.

I pull him up, help him shift ninety degrees, and then lower him onto the couch. “See?” I say. “That wasn’t so bad.”

He glares at me. “If you use that condescending tone with me again, I’ll commit hara-kiri and get blood all over your new sofa.”

“I’ve seen worse.” I scoot the tray of food closer to him. “Would you still prefer to eat alone?”

“No,” he says. “I’d prefer to have dinner with yo
u—
assuming you’re not here because of some misguided sense of duty.”

“Nope. I’m in love with you.”

He exhales. “Right.”

“Would you like some tea?” I ask, turning away before he can see my face flush.

“Please.”

Oh my god, Lani. What are you thinking? Do you miss crying yourself to sleep every night? You have a daughter and a career. Isn’t that enough?

When I’m done making tea, I sit down in the chair across from him and start braiding my hair. “Who are you, Diego? Really.”

He watches me, the corner of his mouth twitching, and a wave of self-consciousness washes over me. I adjust my bangs to cover more of my scars.

“I thought you figured that out already,” he says and picks up a sandwich.

“Let’s see, Diego Nadales, naked tree climber and biotech guinea pig.”

“Bingo.” He doffs an imaginary hat. “How did you get all those burn scars?”

“Flamethrower,” I say and toss the braid over my shoulder. “How did you end up in that tree?”

“Time machine.”

I choke on my tea. “Why do you insist on turning everything into a joke?”

“I’m not joking,” he says.

“You can’t expect me to believe that, Diego.”

“Told you so.” He gives me a fake smile. “But it’s the truth all the same.”

“Ignoring the fact that time machines don’t exist and that time travel is impossible, you seem to have been totally unprepared to come here. Why would a time machine deposit you at the top of a tree?”

“It was a mistake.”

“Pretty fucking big mistake, if you ask me. If Shannon hadn’t seen you fall, you’d be dead, Mr. Miracle.” I stand up. “I think I’m done listening to this bullshit.”

His eyes get big and then his jaw tightens. “Everything I’ve told you is true, Lani. Everything. But I’m done trying.” He repositions his legs in front of the couch and attempts to stand. “So fuck you too.”

“Diego, don’t!” I rush over just as he collapses against the sharp corner of the coffee table. “Damn it. You are such a stubborn
akole
.” I grab him under the arms, trying to wrench him back into the wheelchair, but he jerks away from me.

“I don’t need your pity, and right now, I don’t want your goddamn help.” He throws his arms over the end of the sofa and attempts to pull himself back up. “It
was
a time machine that dumped me in that tree, a time machine from another universe.” He collapses onto the cushions, breathing hard.

I reach for him, but his anger scares me, and I pull my hand away.

“I’m from 2025,” he says. “And in my timeline, you’re still a street kid with a handkerchief and kite string in her pocket to escape the Minotaur.”

“What?” The anger drains out of me.

How could he know that?

“The virus hasn’t mutated yet, but it will soon. Oh, and there aren’t any biodomes. However bad your world fucked things up, it’s nothing compared to what’s going down in mine.”

“Oh my god.” I slump down onto the sofa.

“I was part of a top-secret government project to modify the past, stop the Doomsday Plague from happening. The biotech devices in my blood were supposed to help me combat the radiation poisoning I’d pick up diving through black holes, or at least that’s what I was told.”

“So why are you here?”

He runs his fingers through his hair and pulls one of Shannon’s pink rubber bands out of his pocket. “The time machine malfunctioned. Instead of sending me to the past, it sent me to the future.” He collects his long, dark locks into a ponytail. “And no one is planning to airlift me out of here anytime soon.”

Could he be suffering from a delusional disorder?

“And I didn’t tell you this before, because I didn’t want to deal with the fall-ou
t—
like that ‘seriously fucked-up’ look you’re giving me right now.”

Could he be telling the truth?

“It just so happens that my memory is painfully, exhaustively, remorsefully perfect. It may be close to twenty years for you, but everyone I care about died the instant I appeared in your goddamn tree.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” I say and rest my hand on his leg, unsure what I believe but certain that
he
believes it. “I just assumed that she was… that it all happened…”

“It’s okay,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut. “It doesn’t matter. I know she’s dead.” He takes my arm, pulls me sideways against his shoulder, and tips his head against mine. “Christ, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

We sit there, our heads touching and my heart pounding, until he pulls away to wipe his face. I get up, position the wheelchair next to him, and reach out.

He shakes his head. “I know you’re trying to help, but I don’t need a doctor right now.”

“How about a friend?” It comes out as a whisper.

He looks up, his eyes wide.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s take you home.”

He drags his gaze across my scars, and this time, I don’t cower or turn away. He meets my eyes. “Will you tell me what happened to you?”

I nod, fighting back tear
s—
and whether they’re tears of regret or relief, I couldn’t say.

Chapter 15

Diego: Naked Honesty

“H
ome, sweet home,” Lani says as she opens the apartment door. “You’re welcome to set up the lock, but most people don’t use them.”

“That’s a key point you have there, doc.”

She groans and flips the light switch, but nothing happens. “Oops. We’ll have to get someone to look at that tomorrow. And I’ll ask them to bring over the sofa from your room too.” She enters and turns a light on over the stove. “I know it’s small, but it’s all yours.”

The studio apartment has a tiny kitchenette, a peninsula with two barstools, and what looks to be a Murphy bed all made up in the corner. There’s a laundry basket full of my folded clothes on the bed, a stack of canned goods on the counter, and the jaguarundi picture that Shannon drew hanging on the wall.

“It’s perfect, Lani. Thank you.”

“I thought you needed your own space.” She walks into the bathroom and turns on the light. “Electricity seems to be working fine.” I hear the toilet flush. “And the plumbing too. Lucy will be in at eight tomorrow to check on you and help with the shower, but if you’d prefer to take one in the evenings, just let me know.”

“In the morning is fine.”

“Okay.” She hesitates. “The mattress is at the same height as your chair, and there are grab bars in the bathroom, so things should be easier for you here. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t overdo it.”

“Got it. And sorry about earlier this evening. I’m an ungrateful ass.”

“Apology accepted.” She walks over to the small window and looks up. “At least for the next week or two, I’d like you to accept help getting in and out of bed.” She turns and waits for me to nod. “And as I said, Lucy will be here in the mornings. I’m happy to stop by in the evenings.” She looks back out the window. “But if you prefer, I can have Becky come instead.”

I smile. “Becky is an excellent nurse, Lani, but I’d prefer to have you.”

“Fine.” She relaxes a little. “Would you like to take a shower? Rinse off the chlorine?”

Water is a precious resource here in the Bub, and showers are strictly rationed.

“No,” I say, “but thanks. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to hit the sack. If you’d give me a minute to use the bathroom, I’ll take a hand getting into bed.”

The bathroom is just large enough to get my wheelchair in, but I can’t turn around or reach the doorknob, so I leave the door open. It’s nothing she hasn’t already seen or heard before, but it still makes me cringe to appear so inept. Fortunately, the grab bars in the bathroom are well placed, and after I brush my teeth and use the facilities, I back the wheelchair out and position it by the bed.

She’s putting canned goods away in the kitchen.

“Ready when you are,” I say and take off my shirt, fold it, and set it on the chair by the bed.

She’s standing in the kitchen, staring at my chest, and I wonder if she’s as uncomfortable with the flabby muscles as I am.

“Lani?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Should I put my shirt back on?”

She meets my gaze. “N-no, of course not.” I can tell from her voice that she’s been crying.

“So what’s up?”

“I’m fine,” she says, and turns off the light.

I sit there in a shaft of moonlight, wishing I wasn’t stuck in a goddamn wheelchair. “Then why are you standing in my kitchen, crying?”

She shakes her head, comes over to me, and pulls down the covers on the bed.

“When was the last time you let someone get close to you, Lani? Other than this evening, when that idiot assaulted you in the pool?”

“Hah.” She wipes her face on her sleeve. “Men aren’t attracted to… women like me.”

“Bullshit. No one even notices your scars anymore. Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

She plops down on the bed, her hands and her gaze in her lap. “It’s not just the scars, Diego. It’s how I got in here, what I did.”

“You mean before Doomsday, Lani? That was nearly twenty years ago. What does it matter now?”

She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.

“Hey.” I take her hand and pull her into my lap, and she rests her head against my shoulder. “How old were you, Lani?”

I wait for her to continue.

“Seventeen,” she says at last. “I was already pregnant with Shannon, but I didn’t know it yet.”

“Christ.” I put my arms around her. “And the burns?”

“It happened the day they sealed the Bub. Hundreds of people were gathered Outside, desperate to find a way in before the virus got them.”

I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“Do me a favor and help me to the bed, please?” I ask, looking down at her.

She jumps up, looking flustered. “Yes, of course.”

“Hey. I’m not trying to get rid of you, I’m just tired of sitting in this damn chair.”

“Sure.” She pulls me up and then lowers me onto the cool sheets. “Would you like me to get your pajamas?”

I shake my head. “But a clean pair of boxers would be great, thanks.”

As I attempt to wiggle out of my shorts, she leans over me and slips her fingertips inside my waistband. “Here,” she says. “Let me help.”

She slides her hands down my body, pushing my damp shorts and swimsuit off. Her touch is light and sensual, and I feel myself getting stiff.

I lie there in the half-darkness, trying to think of a way to avoid the impending awkwardness.

She gets out a clean pair of boxers and then slips them back up my legs. I shut my eyes, hoping she’ll completely ignore my hard-on, but just as I lift my hips, she lets out a startled gasp, and for one very long moment, she freezes with her hands on my thighs.

“Maybe you should drop the comments about men not being attracted to you?”

She recovers, lifting the thin fabric over my hard-on. “Well,” she says, settling the boxers around my hips. “I can’t say I’ve had that happen before.”

I glance down at the tent in my shorts. “And I’m afraid it’s not the first time.”

“It’s not?”

“Well of course not, doctor. You’ve been stroking and rubbing and caressing me for months. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess you trained as a courtesan and belatedly decided to be a doctor because the pay was better.”

“Don’t say that.” She turns away.

“Whoa there, darlin’. I was just kidding. And anyway, I meant it as a compliment.”

She doesn’t respond, her shoulders rising and falling in the darkness.

“I love the way you touch me, Lani. That’s all I was saying.”

She turns to me, tears streaming down her face. “I was a whore, Diego.”

“A what?”

“You know, a prostitute, a hooker. That’s how I paid for med school. And how I got pregnant. And how I stayed alive: I fucked my way into the biodome.”

I catch one of her tears with my thumb. “Christ, Lani, you were only seventeen. Whoever used you like that was one messed up bastard.”

“David gave me my education, my daughter, and my life.”

David? Dave Kirkland is Shannon’s father? Shit.

Now that I think about it, they have the same slate-blue eyes.

Christ, you’re an idiot. It’s been staring you in the face all along.

I exhale. “And you were in love with him?”

She nods once and then brings her hands up to her face. “And then he got bored with me and found someone else.”

“Does he know about Shannon? Who she is?”

“I never asked.”

I pull her over against my chest and put my arms around her. “So what happened the night they sealed the Bub?”

She settles against me, her heart pounding. “When people realized the doors were closing, they started pushing and shovin
g—
and then they started throwing rocks and trying to destroy the biodome.” She exhales. “Men armed with tear gas and flamethrowers were sent out to force the crowd back and protect the walls.”

“Where were you in all of this?”

“Up on the ridge, near where we found you.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “Just the night before, I had… s-secured my brother’s place in the Bub, and that morning I had gone out to get him, b-bring him back inside. But someone started shouting that Doomsday was here in Denver, that people were dropping dead in the streets, that it was the end of the world.” She takes a ragged breath. “I guess he was right.”

I stroke her back, waiting.

“He was only eight,” she says, blinking back tears. “And I was certain David’s men would let us pass. They had escorted us to and from the apartment for months, and I was certain they would recognize me.”

She takes a slow breath. “It was David who’d given us the tickets to get insid
e—
one for each of u
s—
and I was foolish enough to believe he could protect us.”

I hold her tighter, guessing what must come next.

“After I found Sam, I pushed back through the mob, working my way toward the huge loading dock and pulling him along behind. But when the doors started closing, people panicked. I started running the other way, racing toward the small side-entrance I had used the night before. But I couldn’t keep hold of him in the stampeding crowd, so I stopped and picked him up.” She looks at me, fighting back tears. “But I wasn’t s-strong enough to c-carry him and fight the crowd, so I p-put him down again and p-pushed him ahead of me through the panicked bodies.”

“You must have been terrified,” I say, dread making my throat tight.

“When we finally managed to b-break through, I told Sam to r-run as fast as he could toward the door. David was visible in the window, and I saw him signaling to let us through. I told Sam I’d be right b-behind him.” She chokes back a sob. “But other people saw us break away and started following, and the troops panicked.” She presses her lips together. “Sam took the full force of the wall of flamethrowers.”

“Oh god, no.” The image is horrific, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“And by the time I managed to get to him, my brother was dead.”

I lie there for a few moments, unable to speak.

“Christ, Lani, I can’t even imagine how horrible that must have been.” I hold her against my chest. “I’m sorry.”

She lets out a soft cry, and then the floodgates open and twenty years’-worth of bottled-up misery pours out. I lie there with my arms around her and wait for the torrent to subside.

∞

Sometime later, I wake up, and it takes me a minute to remember where I am.

Lani is still clinging to me, her head on my shoulder, the covers pulled up around us. I shift my weight, sliding my hands across her shoulders and bac
k—
and realize that she’s nude.

Mierda.

It’s been far too long time since I had a woman in my arms, and the combination of her naked body and my raw need is electric. My cock jumps to attention.

A moment later, she lifts her chin and kisses me on the mouth, her lips soft and wet. I move my hands up to her head, my heart beating in my throat, and then I kiss her back. She moans and grabs onto my hair, pressing her thigh hard against my cock as she opens her mouth to me.

Somewhere in the back of my head, a little alarm goes off, but it is drowned out by the silent roar of our need.

“God, you feel good,” I say and kiss her on the neck and then the shoulder, sliding my mouth across her silky skin. Her breath quickens, and I become caught up in the sound of her desire. “You’re so beautiful, Lani.”

“Make love to me,” she says, her voice trembling.

And I do.