Chapter Five
Every night Miranda worked, Jack would make her dinner. She usually had one of his skillet meals. Tonight she was eating Eden’s salad. Miranda didn’t want it to go to waste and doubted Eden would come back for it—if she came back at all.
Miranda sniffed again, stabbing the lettuce and moving it around on her plate. She didn’t have much of an appetite.
Eden only had a couple of days left. There probably wasn’t enough time to set things right between them.
How much time was left for Miranda? Her hands started to shake as she thought about it—the fog in her vision and what it meant.
Maybe we can make up on the other side.
Her eyes filled with tears again. She had just covered them with her hands when one of the bells above the front door sounded. She wiped her face dry and stood up, sniffing. She’d told Jack she could handle working her shift. She wouldn’t let him down.
She plastered a smile on her face and headed for the menus at the podium near the door, trying to avoid eye contact. She didn’t want any awkward, well-meaning questions about why she was upset.
“Welcome to The Red Thread,” she said.
“Miranda?”
Her heart started to pound. “Darren? What are you doing here?” He normally didn’t show up until at least an hour after Eden left.
“That’s a better question for you. Why aren’t you at the hospital?”
“They released me.”
His lips pulled into a frown. “They should still be observing you.”
“I’m fine.”
He took a step forward and reached out as if he was going to touch her. She wanted him to touch her again—to hold her in his arms like he had after the accident. But she didn’t trust herself not to hug him back or even try to kiss him, like she’d imagined doing so many times. And starting something with him now seemed cruel when she didn’t have much time left.
She stepped toward the podium—away from him—and picked up a menu, even though she knew he didn’t need it.
“Do you want your usual?” she asked.
Her heart lurched as she took in the flash of disappointment that crossed his face. He lowered his hands and shook his head.
“Actually, I wanted to ask about my jacket.”
“Your… Oh right.”
She had clung to his jacket in the ambulance—held it against her stomach while the EMTs attached things to her chest and arms. The nurses had barely managed to pry it away when they admitted her, stuffing it in a bag with her clothes.
“It’s at my place,” she said. “I was going to have it cleaned for you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
He kept staring at her with more intensity than she’d ever seen from him before.
“Is something else wrong?” he asked.
She tried to tell him that everything was fine, but choked on the words. Her eyes filled with tears again.
“Miranda…”
This time, she couldn’t shy away when he stepped toward her. She was rooted in place. All of her energy was going toward trying not to cry as the fear came crashing down on her.
She was going to die. Alone.
Just like I’ve lived…
She sucked in a breath, her body shaking as the knowledge of her own end sank in deeper. How would it happen? Would it hurt as bad as it did in the vision? Worse? Was the warmth and companionship she sensed on the other side wishful thinking, or was that actually what waited for her?
Darren lifted his arms again, as if he was going to hug her.
Please let him hug me.
Instead, he rested his hands on her elbows and gently guided her to sit at the nearest table. He pulled a chair close and sat next to her.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “At the very least, you should be home resting.”
“I know. But I’m going to need the money.” She wiped her eyes. “Hospital bills. Buying a new car.”
Oh wait. I don’t need a car after all.
Miranda could walk or ride the bus for a month. She did still have hospital bills to pay, and didn’t want to leave an unpaid debt. She also didn’t want to leave her friendship with Eden where it was. They had so little time left. Miranda’s tears started up again, rolling down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” Miranda wiped at her face and tried to get herself back under control.
Darren unrolled a silverware set from the table and handed her the napkin. She buried her face in it, taking a few deep breaths in the illusion of privacy it provided. She clutched it in her lap when she had recovered a bit.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Anyone who’d been through what happened to you this morning would be shaken up.”
“It’s not just that. I can handle that.” She let out a dry laugh and shook her head. “In the last twelve hours, I’ve totaled my car, lost my best friend, and found out—”
She barely remembered to stop herself before telling him the truth.
“Found out what?”
I have about a month or so left before I die a painful death.
When she didn’t answer, Darren said, “You can talk to me—tell me anything.”
His voice was so gentle. He’d never spoken to her quite like this before.
She had noticed the way Darren looked at her. Maybe they could have dated—explored each other to see what might come of it. Now they would never have a chance.
“I found out some bad news.” She pulled a smile up through the depths of her sorrow. “It’s just a bad day. Tomorrow will be better.”
He picked up both her hands, resting them on the crumpled napkin in her lap. His skin was cooler than she’d expected.
She could give herself this—and only this—offer of comfort. She could hold his hands for a few moments, and pretend that she was normal.
But she wasn’t normal. His future flowed into her.
Derelict buildings surrounded Darren as he drove through a rough section of the city at night. The Old River district? Something huge ran in front of him. She saw strobes of white in the darkness, felt the weight of his gun held beneath a small flashlight.
Then suddenly teeth. Fur. Blood. So much blood. She heard Darren’s scream as a huge animal bit into his arm and knocked him to the ground.
And then the fog. That damned fog. Was it going to take everyone she cared about? Was that the companionship she felt on the other side?
Her mom would be there, and soon Eden. Apparently, Darren was joining them, too.
There was no way she was leaving him to this fate. He deserved a chance at a normal life. At any kind of life. Miranda sucked in a breath, ready to tell him not to go to that place, to avoid driving at night, to stay in his car if he hit an animal.
The vision shifted into something that felt more like a waking dream. That had never happened before. The fog dissipated, leaving her standing in a church. She walked between the pews, heading toward a casket.
Was this Eden’s funeral? Her own? Miranda peered inside.
It was Jack.
Her heart felt ready to pound out of her chest. She could barely breathe.
How was Darren’s future tied in with Jack’s? That didn’t make any sense. She blinked and shook her head, but the vision remained. She looked around at the church, then back to the casket.
Instead of Jack, Eden rested on the satin that lined the coffin. Her features were smooth in a way Miranda had never seen before. Her heart sank as she realized she had never seen Eden free from pain.
Miranda willed her eyes to shut. She didn’t want to see any more. She felt Darren squeeze her hands in reality, and wondered how much time was passing as the vision took over her mind. She opened her eyes again, expecting to see him. And she did—inside the coffin.
His long lashes were dark against bloodless cheeks. There was no ease in his expression. He looked worn, his cheeks sunken, as if whatever would happen between the present and this future had hollowed him out.
Miranda pushed away from the vision, but she was trapped. She turned from the casket and ran toward the doors that led from the church, throwing them open and stumbling into the darkness outside. Her chest worked like a bellows. Cold air laced with ash burned its way into her lungs.
She looked up at the sky, stars blazing bright—too bright—overhead. She saw a constellation she felt she should recognize, but then the lights jumbled and fell through the sky. Each place they landed erupted into fire. The wind carried the screams of the dying to her ears.
“Miranda? Miranda, are you okay?”
She blinked, the restaurant suddenly appearing around her. Her limbs felt leaden. Darren was clutching her arms, holding her upright. He had broken the connection—dropped her hands. That’s what had freed her from the vision. The vision of an apocalypse.
An apocalypse.
How could warning him affect the lives of so many? How could letting him suffer save others from so much pain?
“This is the curse that comes along with your gift,” her mother had told her more than once. “Sacrifices must be made. Sometimes the only choice you’ll have is the lesser of two evils.”
The fear and uncertainty Miranda had been feeling stopped. All of her emotions shut down. She was cold inside—numbed beyond feeling. Once again, she was sending someone she cared about to their death. Only this time, she was doing it intentionally.
She couldn’t warn Darren. Too much was at stake. And no matter which path she chose, he was going to die.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
She expected fresh tears to spring to her eyes, but none came. She felt disconnected. Glancing around the restaurant, everything seemed surreal. The greens on the walls, the horseshoes and Celtic crosses. She felt like she might float up out of her body, leaving everything behind.
“I’m taking you back to the hospital,” Darren said.
“Why?”
“Because you’re obviously still in shock.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” she said.
“Like hell you don’t.” He had risen from his chair at some point and was now squatting down in front of her.
“I can’t afford more hospital visits.”
“Then I’ll pay for it. I’m not going to let you—”
He cut himself off so abruptly that it helped to bring her attention back into focus. He looked terrified. As frightened as she would feel later when all of this finally registered as real.
“My mom died of a heart attack.” Darren’s face had grown pale and his lips were bloodless. A muscle in his jaw was started to twitch. “She didn’t listen when I told her she needed to go to the hospital. She downplayed it and said she didn’t want to cost the family money. If she’d gone in sooner…”
Now Miranda knew what it was about the situation that was triggering him so badly. She brought a hand up to his face and trailed her fingertips along the stubble covering his cheek. Déjà vu once again assaulted her senses, making her feel even less tethered to her body.
“I swear to you, I’m okay,” she said.
The glower didn’t leave his expression.
She could kiss him. Just once. What did it matter now that she knew they would both be gone so soon?
As she started to lean forward, a strong hand clamped onto her shoulder, pushing her back to earth. She felt like she’d slammed herself down into her chair, but knew she hadn’t moved. The room stopped swirling as the scent of eucalyptus stung her nose.
She looked up into Jack’s dark gaze. He was smiling, but the lines around his eyes were deeper than ever.
“Everything okay out here?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
Darren spoke at the same time. “No.”
She glared at him. The last thing she needed was the pair of them ganging up on her.
“I think Miranda’s in shock.” Darren stood, but didn’t move away. “She should go back to the hospital.”
Jack’s grip on her shoulder tightened and loosened a few times.
“Bring your awareness to the bottoms of your feet,” Jack said.
He moved his grip to the back of her neck and she closed her eyes, focusing on his touch. There was nothing sensual about it. It was just comforting and…grounding. Especially when she did as he suggested and thought about her feet. He worked on her other shoulder for a few seconds, then rested his hand there.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been around a while. Picked up a few things.”
He set a paper bag on the table and turned his attention to Darren.
“What’s that?” Darren asked.
“Your dinner,” Jack said. “It’s on the house today, though I am going to ask you for a favor.”
Darren arched an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“Miranda needs to rest. I can finish out the night shift, but I’d like you to take her home.”
“I can work,” she said.
“I’ll swing by your place at six-thirty tomorrow night,” Jack said. “You can work the tail end of the dinner rush before your shift to make up the time you lose tonight.”
The dinner rush… Tips would be good. Even an hour of that shift would more than make up for her leaving the night shift a few hours early. It would be crowded, though. She’d have to be extra-careful not to touch anyone…
But she’d be sticking Jack with working the front and back of the place and asking Darren for a favor at the same time.
“I can’t—” she began.
“Miranda.” Jack squeezed her shoulder again. “We just went over this. You’re not the only one who likes to help people out. Right, Mr. Calverton?”
“Yeah, I—” Darren stiffened, then slowly stood. “How do you know my name?”
Jack shook his head and smiled. “Let’s just say, I was in a similar line of work before I retired and opened up this place. You come in here every night carrying a piece. That caught my attention, so I did some digging.”
Darren’s hands flexed and his arms seemed to loosen at his sides. Far from appearing more relaxed, it made him look ready for anything.
He’d said he wasn’t a cop, but Miranda had seen his gun herself. He didn’t seem military, so that left…private security?
She remembered what his friend Scott had said about the package they were delivering. It made sense. She’d seen movies and TV shows that talked about that.
Jack used to do something similar?
“What do you say?” Jack asked. “Can you see Miranda safely home?”
“Yeah,” Darren said.
“Great.” Jack patted Miranda’s shoulder before heading back to the kitchen. He turned toward them one last time and said, “Oh, and Mr. Calverton? I am holding you responsible for her safety. Your name isn’t the only thing I know about you.”
He winked before walking through the swinging door.
“Wow, that was kind of cool,” she said.
“That’s one word for it. I might have gone with ‘extremely intimidating’.”
“That, too.”
She did need to go home, but not to rest. This new vision was bigger than any other she’d ever had. Something huge was on the horizon.
She couldn’t think about it now—not in front of Darren. It was too terrifying, and she didn’t want him to sense her fear. There was no way she could explain it to him.
“Then shall we?” Darren offered her his hand.
After what she’d seen, she was afraid to take it. She didn’t want to see anything else. Her visions were escalating too quickly.
Instead, she rose on her own and hooked her elbow through his. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments.
He was so beautiful. She wanted to take the time to commit every feature to memory. The little divot in his chin, the straightness of his nose. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair so that she knew what it felt like before…
Before the fog came for him. Before he had to deal with the consequences of her choice—the death she had selected.
She couldn’t let the world burn. Not even for him.