Her perceptiveness was unnerving. Almost as unnerving as the fact that she thought about me while falling asleep. In her bed.

“Mutual. Yes. I mean … it … it’s complicated.”

Intrigue. “So how would you feel right now … if … we touched?”

“I guess it would depend on how you felt about me. There are a lot of triggers with touching. Intensity, circumstances.” I lost track of what I was saying when she smoothed her hand across my chest and halfway down my stomach. Her touch made my toes want to curl all the way through the soles of my shoes, and not for purely physical reasons. “I don’t … I’m not sure.”

Smiling, she pulled her hand away and started walking again. No one had ever caught on to this part of my ability before. Except my mom. And that was a whole different thing. We shared happiness when we made cookies together.

Lily was not referencing cookies.

I realized she was ten feet away and I caught up.

“It would depend on how I felt,” she said. “If I felt good, you would, too?”

“Yup.”

“If I felt good physically, or emotionally?”

“Yup. Either. Both.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yup.” I didn’t know why, exactly. It’s not like I was shy. Or innocent.

“Knowing that things rebound back to you has to be addictive.” When we reached Murphy’s Law, she stopped at the stairs leading up to her apartment. “I’d be spending a lot of time making people feel good.”

“The appeal of making a lot of people feel good isn’t what it used to be. I think maybe I’d just like to focus on one.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yup.”

And it shocked the hell out of me.

A faint hint of a smile touched her lips.

“Are you going to be all right?” I asked. “Do you need me to go in with you?”

“No. Abi and I have a lot to talk about.”

She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

I watched her until she stepped inside, and I knew she was safe.

Chapter 36

The next morning when I woke up I went straight to the pool house. I had to tell Michael that we’d lost our direct connection to Jack, and that using Lily was no longer an option.

I had Jack’s watch in my jacket pocket. The morning air was crisp, and steam rose from the pool in a fog. Leaving the heater on and paying the service was such a waste. I didn’t know if I’d ever swim in it again. I knocked lightly, but no one answered. Probably still in bed.

After debating whether or not I should wake Mike up, I decided it was too urgent to wait. I turned the knob, and then froze when I heard his voice.

“… last time I saw you, you were pointing a gun at me. I have no reason at all to trust you.” So much rage. Not a common feeling from Michael.

“He used me.” Nothing.

“He’s still using you, Cat, and you’re letting him. He’s traveling, and the continuum is getting worse.”

Cat.

She’d been like a sister to me before she turned on my family and actively participated in my dad’s death.

My rage blew Michael’s out of the stratosphere. I slammed the door open so hard it bounced off the wall. “Why haven’t you broken her neck yet? She’s a waste. There’s no way you’re going to get the truth from her.”

Cat’s arrival must have surprised Michael. His hair was still wet from the shower and he didn’t have on a shirt. He stood on one side of the couch and she stood on the other, next to the open sliding glass doors and the snack bar. Her mahogany skin looked ashen, her brown eyes dull. Her short hair had started to grow out, sticking up in awkward angles from her head. She hadn’t been taking care of herself. Jack hadn’t been taking care of her, either.

“I’m here to ask forgiveness,” Cat said, her eyes widening as she looked up at me. An act, just like our entire relationship.

“Don’t.” I held up my hand. “Don’t even open your mouth. If I didn’t know Mike would stop me, I’d choke you to death with my bare hands right now.”

“Go ahead,” Michael said. “My superhero cape is at the cleaners.”

“Just listen,” she pleaded, holding up her hand, edging closer. “I have information. I can help you.”

“Does he know you’re here?” I asked. “Does he know you’re about to sell him out?”

Sudden movement behind Cat caught my attention.

“I know everything.”

Jack, looking pampered and perfectly healthy.

We locked eyes for two seconds before he lunged and grabbed Cat. I rushed him, with Michael right behind me. Propelling myself forward, I reached for Jack’s shirtsleeve, my fingers just missing it as he kicked the stools from the snack bar into our path. I smashed into them, Michael ran into me, and we both went down.

By the time we were up, they were gone.

I growled in frustration and slammed my fist into the wall. “Damn it!”

Michael jerked the bar stools to an upright position. “He’s not gone forever. Lily can track him through the pocket watch.”

I pulled the pocket watch out and swung it by the chain in front of Michael’s face. “No. She can’t.”

“If you have the pocket watch, how did Jack get in and out of here so fast? He needs duronium to travel.” Michael sat down on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sick of not knowing. What he’s doing, what the future holds.” He paused, on the verge of telling me something he was afraid to share.

I waited him out.

“She was with you.”

“What?”

“When I didn’t make it back. When I died saving your dad. I traveled to the future to make sure she’d be okay. On that time line, before she broke the rules to come back and get me, Em was with you.” The honesty cost him. “With you with you.”

“She loves you.” I sat down. “That would never happen.”

“Even if I’m dead?” Michael’s laugh didn’t match the morbidity of the statement. “There’s no way to know. Travel used to have rules, and now everything is completely out of control.”

I listened. Which was exactly what he needed.

He started to pace. “The fact is that, even if time is rewound, you’ll still exist, and Em will still exist. Maybe in a different state of being. She could be … sick. She could be the broken Em that was the sole survivor of a terrible bus accident. She could be medicated out of her mind.”

“I wouldn’t know her if that was the case,” I argued. I didn’t want to think of Em like that.

“She’s in your father’s files. Maybe you’ll go find her.” He lifted his hands. “Or maybe you’ll take over for Liam, and you’ll see someone like your mom, and you’ll want to help her.”

“What exactly did you see?”

He stopped and turned toward the window. He could hide his face, but not his emotions. Not from me.

“Michael?”

“You were holding her. On your lap, in your arms. You were on the front porch of your house, sitting in one of your mother’s rocking chairs, and you were holding her.” He sounded so resigned, like he was willing to surrender without a fight. “You keep showing up, loving her when she needs it most.”