Chapter Thirty-Two

Natasha pulled off her boots and tossed them across the bedroom.

Her side of the bed was in shambles. Her husband’s side remained untouched. How many days had Seth been sleeping in the den? Natasha had stopped counting.

Soon. Soon it would all be over. Arlianna was gone, hopefully for good. What a fool, trying to save Jessica.

Good riddance to you, Arlianna. My once trusted friend.

It could take her years to find her way back to this time. No locator. Injured. God only knew where she’d traveled. Renn couldn’t help her now. He could barely help himself. Pining away after that girl.

By this time tomorrow, she’d be rid of him too. Without Arlianna, she could now send Jessica anywhere she wanted. That little blip was sure to follow.

From her nightstand, Natasha picked up the bottle of scotch and poured herself a large glass. After taking a swallow, she turned off the holocom. The last thing she wanted to do now was receive work messages.

She set the holo-mote to The Gardens. The expansive lawn lined with every color imaginable filled her with peace. Happiness, well, that would come later. Powerful women weren’t given the luxury of knowing joy.

The door opened behind her.

“Seth? Is that you?” Finally, he’d come back to her bed. She’d apologize for taking off so suddenly the past few days. Explain to him about the problems at work. With them now in the past, she could focus solely on him. “I’m so glad you came home.”

“You are?”

Natasha spun around. Renn, or his image, stood before her, with a big shit-eating grin on his face. His trench coat seemed sturdier than ever.

“That’s not funny,” she said, sure it was a holo. But hadn’t she turned off all communication? The hold moved forward. “You’ve done your trick. You can vanish now.” She waved her arm at the image.

Renn took another step toward her. The shimmers from his coat, waxing and waning as he got closer.

“You’re not…” Natasha swallowed.

“No. It’s me. In the flesh.” He grinned at her.

Natasha stumbled backward. “Get out of here. Now.”

“I intend to. But not before I see you arrested.”

“For what?” Natasha asked. Her pulse quickened.

“For tampering with my portal.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

“This, ma’am.” A police officer clad in silver appeared behind Renn. He held out a small piece of Renn’s coat.

“I never touched his coat,” Natasha said. She clenched her jaw, anger spewing inside her.

“You’ll have your day in court to plead your case,” Renn spit out.

The officer marched forward, moving his arms robotically at his sides.

“Get out of my house. I’ll have you arrested.” She reached for her holocom.

She was too late. The officer pressed his belt, and the protective bubble surrounded Natasha.

“You can’t do this to me. I didn’t have anything to do with that ripped piece.” She pounded on the invisible enclosure. “Let me out of here.”

Renn’s snarky smile flashed before her. He poured himself a tall glass of scotch and raised it in her direction seconds before the transport lifted into the air, carrying her away.

****

Renn stretched out on his bed, imagining Jessica by his side. He stared out his skylight at the night. His hand instinctively picked up the holo-mote to alter the view, but after spending time in the past, he wanted only to stare at reality. Stars salted the sky forming constellations he couldn’t name.

He hadn’t told any of his friends he was home. Tweetlyn would want to help, but he didn’t want to involve her with his problems. When it was all over, he’d contact them all. Maybe they could party like they had in the past. That is, if everything went his way. But his way was going to be an uphill climb.

Renn knew it was going to take more than a piece of fabric to convict Natasha. He had to gather evidence of her tampering with Central Match and bring in witnesses. Those living happily-ever-after would be hard pressed to leave their homes and testify.

As for Arlianna, he suspected she was orbiting, trying to get home.

He had sent a dozen communications in response to her last one. It had been a cryptic message: stem cut. The image of her flower tattoo had been haunting him all day.

His mentor was a strong lady, but he feared she had been injured.

He picked up his cell phone. Jessica had said it was one of the smartest on the market, but it wasn’t smart enough to contact her. No, he would have to make another trip in person.

He turned on the sound wall to the Whitney Houston channel. As the songs played, he drifted off to sleep imagining Jessica in a long white dress similar to one her mother wore at the beach wedding.

Hand in hand they would dance until their feet hurt, without a worry in world.