Abandoning Anarchy (The Lost in Time Duet #2) Read online

  “Gabriel is here,” I muttered. “Isn’t he? Did you tell the police what he did?”

  He held up a hand, stopping me. “I have not seen Gabriel once since arriving in this place. In fact, I know for certain he remained in the past.”

  My eyebrow raised. “How?”

  He sighed, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I met with his sister, Charlotte, just now. It was she who clothed me and helped give whatever information this place required of me. She also gave me money, a place to stay, and a cell phone.” Pulling the last object from his pocket, he looked at it in confusion, passing it to my hands.

  Staring at the dark screen, I let my mouth hang open in shock. “Why?” I finally managed to ask. “Why would she do all of that for you?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. She insisted her information is saved on that device and instructed me to call, should I desire anything further.”

  August hedged then, and I knew we’d come to the real part he was worried about sharing.

  “What else did she tell you?” I asked cautiously.

  Biting his lip for a beat, he stared at me. When he did speak, he did so in such a quiet volume I had to strain to hear him. “I have already met Charlotte Mercer in another time,” he admitted. “She claims it was almost a decade ago and she has been waiting for our arrival tonight ever since.”

  My ears rang as I stared at him. “What?” My throat went dry, my head spinning as a tower of exhaustion suddenly plopped on top of me. “That’s not possible. I’ve only traveled once. Well, twice, if you count coming back.”

  “I know.” Rubbing his face, he sat down in the chair beside the bed, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at me.

  I couldn’t understand how he was accepting this without any pause. “You’ve never traveled until tonight, right?” I asked, my voice rising in pitch as I stared at him.

  “Never,” he confirmed quickly.

  “So . . .” Blinking, I let my heavy head fall to the pillow, eyes trained on the lights above me. “That means—if she’s telling the truth—we’re going to do it again.”

  “And to a different year and place in the past,” August continued, his own voice tired.

  That information jerked me awake a little more. “When? Did she say what year and where we went to?”

  His frown deepened as he nodded. “She did.”

  A thread of fear wrapped around my heart. “When is it?”

  “March,” he replied. “Seventeen forty-one. New York City.”

  The date felt like an ice cube slipping into my stomach. “You’re sure?” I asked, licking my lips in an attempt to get some moisture in my mouth.

  “I am. Do you know anything of the year? It is before I was born.”

  “I don’t,” I whispered. “There’s nothing at all I can think of.”

  Before I could fully process the information, the door to the room opened and two figures bustled in, their coats spotted with melting snow and concern in their eyes.

  “Olivia!” The woman said, rushing in and wrapping her arms around me. “We have been so worried! Thank God we didn’t fly to Cousin Rachel’s house in California a day earlier like we considered.”

  The man with her came over and hugged me as well, wrapping his arms around my shoulders tightly. “We were in the middle of our layover in Texas when we got the call and came on the first flight back.”

  “I’m so sorry we weren’t here sooner, sweetie,” the woman continued, wiping a tear from her eye as she stared at me. “How are you feeling?”

  Frozen, I stared at the two of them, the machine monitoring my heart rate beeping frantically. The alarm to warn the nurse started going off, jolting me out of my stupor.

  “Mom?” I whispered. “Dad?”

  It wasn’t possible. How were they standing here? Nothing I could have done in the past would have saved them from dying in that car crash all those years ago. Yet . . . They obviously had lived. Something was changed in the year I was gone, and my parents were alive now, both of them staring at me like I’d turned an odd color.

  “Are you feeling well, Olive?” Mom asked, laying her hand across my forehead the way she used to when I was sick as a child.

  “I’m sure the doctors are keeping a good eye on her, Molly.” Dad rubbed her shoulder, just like he had whenever she was worried before.

  Gaping at them like they had sprouted an extra head, I ignored the nurse as she came in and checked all my vitals.

  They didn’t look exactly as I remembered them. They were older. Mom’s dark hair had a little gray in it now, and there were some extra wrinkles around her eyes. The long brown coat she wore was the one she’d always had, but her purse was new, with plaid stripes colored dark blue and purple. Her American flag pin on the collar—the one Dad bought for her when they first visited Washington D.C.—was missing one of the white crystals, but it wouldn’t be very noticeable to anyone who was seeing it for the first time. I was almost willing to bet money she would be wearing her yoga pants and a cotton shirt under it all. That was what she’d always loved to fly in.

  Dad’s jacket was new, and so was the beard on his face. It was almost wholly salt and peppered with gray and white hairs, the brown hairs just as outnumbered on the top of his head. His hairline had receded some too, revealing more of his forehead lines. The rest of him was the same, though, right down to the worn dress shoes on his feet.

  Lips trembling, I blinked back tears, my chest threatening to burst and heal itself at the same time. As the liquid leaked down my face yet again, I sucked in a sharp breath, holding my arms out to the both of them.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whispered, squeezing them tightly as they obliged my request for more cuddles.

  “Of course we’re here.” Mom frowned, shaking her head. “You thought we wouldn’t come if you were hurt?”

  I tightened my hold on them, ignoring the stabbing pain in my middle as I strained to hold them both close. “No! I mean, I don’t know. It’s just a surprise to see you here, that’s all.”

  “Our falling out doesn’t mean we’re going to forget about you, Olivia.” Dad kissed me on the cheek. “Besides, it’s in the past. We’re only happy you’re okay. Car accidents are scary. Who knows what could have happened?”

  The comment made my stomach drop. It was an accident on a bridge that took them from me all those Christmases ago. To them, the same thing had almost happened to me tonight.

  A swirl of emotions battled inside me. The horror at something in the timeline having changed was overthrown by my elation to be in the presence of my mother and father. Seven years had passed without me seeing or speaking with them, with no hugs, no kisses, no affection whatsoever. No life. I didn’t know what I’d done, but the fact that they were here made it all worth it.

  I had my family back!

  “Wait,” I started, pulling away in confusion. “Falling out? What are you talking about?”

  They exchanged a worried look. “Have you told the doctor you’re struggling with your memory?” Dad asked hesitantly.

  “I wasn’t aware I was,” I confessed. “What happened?”

  “We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Mom rushed to say. “We’re here, you’re okay, and everything else can wait.”

  “Excuse me.”

  August’s voice mumbled into the conversation, and I released my mother and father, realizing with a start that I had completely cut him out of everything.

  Our gazes connected, an unspoken awkwardness in the stare. He must have known how shocking this all was for me, how emotional their reappearance would make me. I’d shared with him all the awful details of their death, reliving the moment as I quietly cried in his arms. He didn’t want to interrupt, that was clear, but he was here and needed to say something rather than sneak away into a world he knew nothing about.

  We’d never spoken about what we would tell people about him, though. Whatever he was about to say was going to be improv
ised. Just the thought of it made my stomach turn uncomfortably.

  Smiling, he broke the stare and rose from his seat, bowing his head toward my parents. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting. I am August Bancroft, Olivia’s—”

  “Friend!” The word shot out of my mouth at the same velocity of a plane taking off. “We’re friends that met online. August decided to surprise me and come for a visit during his holiday break.”

  He gave me a strange look but went along with the lie all the same. “Yes, I am Olivia’s friend.”

  “Bancroft . . .” Mom stared at him for a moment, trying to place him, and then turned to Dad. “Wasn’t that the name the officers asked us about, Albert?”

  “It was.” Dad folded his arms, frowning as he stared at August. “You were the one that caused the accident?”

  August paused, eyes darting toward me for a beat. “Unfortunately,” he finally ground out. “I do apologize. It was a grave mistake on my part—an action I didn’t quite think through. After the fact, I attempted to bring Olivia to shore myself, but we were separated by the current.”

  “You really hurt her,” Dad pressed. “Not directly, I mean, but it was your fault she got stabbed in the first place. What were you doing out there in the middle of the night?”

  August’s face paled some, and he stared at the floor, falling silent. Dad had no way of knowing what actually happened that landed us both in that river, but it was clear August agreed with the statement.

  Gabriel hadn’t been trying to stab me. It was August he was fighting with. I stepped in at the last moment, trying to save him. That was how I’d been stabbed. Not by a piece of sharp ice, or by something when I wrecked my car. Up until this exact moment, I hadn’t realized August blamed anyone other than Gabriel for the wound.

  Sorrow pierced me. I wanted so badly to hold my arms out to him, to draw him into my comforting embrace and assure him my injuries were in no way his fault. I did what I did because I loved him. The choice was mine alone, and Gabriel was the one wielding the knife.

  “There was a fight,” I whispered drawing everyone’s attention to me before August could try and take the blame. “We were—uh—together earlier in the night and got upset at each other, so August went for a walk. When I went to look for him, he spooked me without meaning to. I crashed my car. It was an accident, honestly.” A small smile graced my lips as I met his eyes, hoping he could see the apology in my gaze. “August would never hurt me on purpose.”

  He didn’t return the smile, but nodded, his posture relaxing as he folded his arms.

  “I thought you were spending Christmas with Emilia.” Mom’s voice was disapproving. “Honestly, Olive, why do you insist on lying about these sorts of things?”

  My mouth snapped shut in surprise, the anger in her tone a sound I wasn’t very familiar with.

  “As she stated, I surprised her,” August supplied, coming to my rescue. “She’d no idea I was there until we were in the snow.”

  Dad glanced between us, a suspicious look flitting through his eyes before he sighed. “Well, if you say it was an accident, I suppose we have to believe you, don’t we, Molly?” His fingers fanned across her shoulder, gripping her tightly.

  She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and nodding. “All that really matters is you’re okay, Olivia.” Waving her hand, she seemed to dismiss her strange behavior in the motion. “Everything else is just nonsense.”

  My eyes teared up again. That was a saying she’d shared with me often when I was worried or upset about something. As long as what was important was good, everything else was just nonsense. Hearing her repeat it after all these years lifted my heart more than I ever would have thought possible.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Nonsense.”

  “You’re doing great!” Emilia continued to follow me like a baby in need of constant monitoring, cheering as I slowly walked around the hospital block.

  Adjusting my grip on my IV pole, I chuckled, shaking my head. “You don’t have to say that every time I round a corner, you know. I’ve been walking for a few years now. I think I know what I’m doing.”

  “You just had major abdominal surgery, Olive,” she chided me. “If you think you’re going to get away with doing anything without me cheering you on, you’re dreaming.” Smiling, she stared me down, taking a bite of the jerky she’d brought with her.

  “If you say so.” I grinned, breathing deeply as I continued.

  It’d been two days since the surgery. As long as everything continued to go well today, the doctors were saying I’d most likely go home tomorrow. Where home was, I had no idea, since I’d bought my house with the life insurance I got from my parent’s passing before. For all I knew, I still lived in their home. There was no way to ask without setting off some alarms about my memory, so I remained quiet, deciding to just see where I ended up once I got out of here.

  “So, who’s this August guy?” Emilia asked casually, chewing another bite of her snack. “Your parents said he’s been here every day to see you. Gets here as soon as visiting hours open and leaves when they close. Honestly, I was surprised he wasn’t here today.”

  “He’s eating at the cafeteria,” I responded without thinking. “At least, I think that’s where he was going.”

  “Uh huh. But who is he? Just for my understanding; I think Molly and Albert were trying to pry into your business through me, but I can’t tell them what I have no clue about.”

  Closing my eyes, I continued to push forward, my socks padding across the tile floor, the rubber grips on the bottom of them sticking and lifting with each step. The hospital continued to flow around us, nurses checking on patients while lunch was delivered to each room from a cart packed full of trays. Doctors typed away on their computers, voices spread out into the hall from other patient’s residences, machines beeped here and there, and the snowy landscape outside peered in through large windows at the end of the corridor.

  It was deafening. Once upon a time, I thought the seventeen-hundreds too quiet. Now I found myself wishing for the comfort of silence, as well as an escape from questions I still didn’t know how to answer.

  What happened between me and my parents that put so much distance between us? They were some of my best friends before. Now it sounded like we hadn’t really been together in years. It was as if they weren’t the same people, just a pair of faces I faintly recognized.

  “You know,” Emilia continued, folding her arms as she moved beside me and interrupted my musings. “If you’re going to lie to your parents and say he was with us all night, that’s fine. You have your reasons. However, if I’m going to cover for you—which I’ve been doing forever—I think I deserve the truth.”

  Sighing, I stopped, facing her as I frowned. “Emilia.” Hesitating, I stared at her, chewing on my lip as she waited. Finally, I caved, shaking my head as I blinked back a few surprised tears. “I don’t know what to say. Everything is so different now.”

  “Just tell me what happened,” she prodded, touching my hand in support. “Start there, and we’ll work our way through it.”

  “I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you the truth,” I whispered. “No one would.”

  Surprised, her mouth popped open, concern flooding her features. “Olivia, of course I will believe you! What’s the matter?” Anger crossed her features, and she grabbed my shoulder, stepping close. “Did this August guy hurt you? Are you in some kind of danger?”

  “No!” I answered quickly. “Nothing like that. He’s . . . he’s . . .”

  Faltering, I glanced away, toward my room. For a moment, I considered telling her everything. It would sound farfetched, for sure, but she could do the research and realize the truth of it. Even if there were no record of me, there would be of August.

  An idea lit in me, and I peered at her. “Did Dan ever find any information on that painting I was working on?”

  Thrown by the change in conversation, she blinked, annoyance covering her face a
s she stared at me. “The Redcoat one, you mean? I didn’t realize you’d gone to him. Stop trying to change the subject, Olivia. I can tell you have something you need to get off your chest.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I nodded. The portrait of August was still here. Thankfully, not everything had changed. If I could show her the art, she might believe me. Now that I had a name, birthdate, and birthplace, I should be able to find him in historical records and prove that August was from the past.

  Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. If I told Emilia the truth, it would be hard. She wouldn’t believe anything at first. As long as I was prepared for whatever reactions, though, I should be able to handle whatever she threw at me.

  It couldn’t be any worse than August’s reaction when I told him the truth.

  “Holy crow,” Emilia whispered suddenly. “Is that him? That guy standing outside your room?”

  Turning, I stared in the direction we were headed, feeling my heart flip a little at the sight of August standing beside my room. He was wearing almost the exact same thing I’d seen him in every day, save his shirt, which was a dark green today. That wasn’t all that was different, though.

  The long, silky locks of blond hair I loved to run my fingers through was gone. Instead, he’d had his hair cut into a much more modern style, the sides shaved down close to the skin, and the top left a little longer. It looked amazing on him, no doubt, but it also made him almost unrecognizable. His jawline and cheekbones were somehow more defined, his eyes piercing and full of light as he stared at me. For a beat, I felt I was looking at a man from this era, my soldier of the past vanishing from the image in front of me.

  Then, he smiled, and the façade was shattered. His head bowed in greeting, and he pulled his hands from behind his back, revealing a small bouquet of roses. Every move he made reminded me of the past he was raised in, his true self shining through the cracks of contemporary appearances.