The Same Time (Time Series book 2) Read online

  My son is placed on my pounding chest. Gown open at the top, I’m shaking, and the muscles in my back and arms are agony, trying to unclench the tension of pushing. It’s like I’ve gone a round in the boxing ring.

  ‘Your friend wants to come in and see you when you’re ready,’ the OB nurse tells me.

  ‘Can you send him in now?’ I don’t take my eyes off my son, burrowing his face into me. He’s small and wrinkly and slightly blue. I wrap him closer in case he’s cold, out here in the big bad world for the first time.

  The door opens, and instead of hoping for Pamela, I smile when DD slowly pads in. ‘Is it okay to see him?’

  ‘They told you it was a boy?’ I’m a little disappointed. I wanted to make the It’s a boy declaration to someone.

  He nods and crosses the room. I catch sight of the blood-soaked sheets, which the nurses tidy away. He doesn’t notice. He can’t take his eyes off my baby.

  ‘Does he have a name yet?’ DD sits on a stool and rolls over to the bed.

  ‘Not yet. I thought I was having a girl. I don’t know why. Maybe I’ll name him after my dad.’

  ‘Would he like that?’

  ‘Who, the baby or my dad?’

  DD laughs and rests his chin on the bed’s side bar. ‘Either of them.’

  ‘Probably neither of them.’ I chuckle. ‘How about you? Did you have names picked out?’

  ‘No. I was so caught up in the pregnancy, I didn’t get as far as the baby-name books.’

  I slump back, emotions overtaking me again. ‘I’m going to be a terrible mother,’ I sob. ‘I never even thought to pick out a boy’s name.’

  He slips his hand into mine. ‘In a few days you won’t be as overwhelmed with everything.’

  ‘I didn’t even read any books. How the hell can I do this? You were so much more prepared than me, and you didn’t even get your baby. How is that fair?’ I cry.

  His eyes redden. He looks down at my baby. ‘Max.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You should call him Max. It’s a good name, and no one can ever shorten it to something awful.’ He scrunches his nose.

  ‘I like it.’ I stare at Max, and it’s perfect. He’s perfect. I can do this. I can be a mom. Just me and Max. We’ll do okay. ‘Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be with your friend and his wife?’

  ‘I’ll leave once you’re okay. That’s how it works for me.’

  He pulls a soft toy giraffe out of his pocket and squeezes it. ‘I saw this downstairs in the gift shop. I checked the tags. It’s suitable from birth. Thought it was cool ’cause it’s more like a teddy so he’ll be able to grasp onto it soon enough. Might even be able to chew on it when he’s teething.’

  I smile. ‘You got him his first teddy.’

  He nods. ‘You could call it GeGe. Keep the whole nickname thing going.’

  Max is a day old, and DD still hasn’t left us. I’m pretty sure he slept in the waiting room, because he showed up first thing this morning wearing the same clothes.

  ‘You can use the shower if you want.’ I gesture at the bathroom door. ‘The other woman checked out last night after you left, so there’s no one sharing. My wash bag is in there. If you’re quick, the nurses won’t even notice.’

  ‘Some hot water might be nice.’ He goes to the tiny en suite. ‘It’s been a tough few days. Don’t suppose you have a razor in there?’ He smiles and his face lights up.

  I snort, ‘I haven’t seen a razor in months. But my friend Cici packed my bag so feel free to use any pink razors or mango body butter if you find it.’

  He looks relieved as he enters the tight bathroom. I’m not sure if it’s the thought of showering, or that I haven’t called him out on the fact he’s spent two days in the hospital taking care of someone he doesn’t know. The water from the shower batters down on the tiled floor, and I hear the disturbance of the drops as DD steps into the flow.

  Someone steps into the doorway and I turn.

  ‘Think I wouldn’t show up to visit my son, Stella?’ Nathan says. His skin is tanned, and I know he must have blown all our money on a beach somewhere. His lips pull back in a sinister smile. It never used to be sinister. It used to be attractive. He used to be attractive. Now I can practically see the inner beast—the fangs and saliva dripping from his snarl.

  ‘You’re not supposed to be back.’ I twinge my stitches getting out of bed and wince.

  ‘Should’ve told that to your friends. A lot of calls were made trying to find Pamela. I told you I still had friends here, watching you.’

  ‘You need to leave.’ I reach for the bassinette, not liking how close it is to the door, but Nathan beats me to it.

  He wheels the basket towards himself.

  I freeze, terror running all the way from my heart to my toes.

  ‘He’s my son too. Aren’t you going to let me meet him?’

  ‘Don’t touch him,’ I yell. I dive forward and slide the crib away from him with my elbow, while I reach around Max’s precious body and lift him to safety. Nathan lets me take him. I cross the room to the window, putting as much distance between us as I can. Despite being the same height as me, he always feels taller. Like his overbearing presence makes me shrink.

  ‘Thought we could take a trip. You, me, and the kid. Somewhere south of the border. Start a new life down there. Families know how to behave in Mexico, do as they’re told.’ He raises an eyebrow.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’

  ‘You will if I take the kid.’ He steps forward.

  ‘I don’t have anything else to give you,’ I whisper. ‘You’ve already cleaned us out. Just leave us alone please. Leave.’

  The bathroom door opens, and DD takes in the scene before him.

  I must look pathetic, huddled in the corner, as Nathan stands straight and smug.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ Nathan practically spits. His confidence falters as he takes DD in.

  ‘I thought you were out of the picture?’

  Nathan laughs, but I can hear the nerves under it. ‘She told you that? Damn, that bitch will say anything to get a sugar daddy to look after her.’

  ‘I’m a family friend,’ DD says, not breaking a sweat. ‘We all know someone like you is easily bought, so here’s what I’m going to do . . .’ He rolls his shirt sleeve up.

  Nathan tenses.

  DD unfastens his watch and holds it out. ‘Cost fifty-grand new.’ He tilts the watch and the light catches it, sending an expensive sparkle along the linoleum floor. ‘I’m not sure how much you could get at a pawn shop, but if you ask around, you could probably get twenty-five, maybe even close to thirty.’ He thrusts it at Nathan. ‘There’s a good one in Beverly Hills.’

  Nathan takes the watch and inspects it.

  Ha, like he could tell if it was a fake.

  DD takes advantage of his momentary lapse to throw Nathan against the wall. ‘There’s one condition, asshole.’ He punches Nathan in the gut then grabs his throat, squeezing. ‘Don’t come back.’

  Nathan nods, and when DD loosens his grasp, backs up to the door. ‘At least I got what I was owed.’ He turns to me. ‘I’ll be keeping an eye on you,’ he snides before darting away.

  My tears fall when DD turns to me.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Why the hell are you helping me?’

  The sunlight brightens the room, and I have to raise my hand to look at him. Something is wrong though. The light is too bright, and the window is behind me. DD takes three long strides towards me, and the light comes with him.

  ‘I’m about to disappear. I might even be going home now. You need to know that when he comes back I’ll be here, okay? I’ve shown up every time you need me. I’ll always be here for you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I did all I could for now. One day we’re going to make him leave for good.’ He runs his thumb under my eye and wipes away a tear. ‘I keep going farther into your past, but you’re safe now. I think I got them all.’
/>
  ‘All of what?’

  ‘The times you died.’ The light surrounding him gets brighter and a shrill noise fills the space between us. ‘Don’t be scared. You’re an awesome mom, and the strongest little mouse I’ve ever met.’

  The light and the noise evaporate, sucking him inside. The contrast with the regular lighting makes the room appear dark until my eyes adjust.

  Pamela rushes through the door, calling my name. She’s wearing jeans and a pressed shirt, and her hair is tied back in a simple ponytail. Her make-up looks a day old. I wonder if she managed to shower and change in the middle of a three-day binge.

  ‘I saw Nathan leaving the elevator.’ She’s pale and looks tense.

  ‘Don’t worry about him. I had some help.’ I loosen my grasp around Max and walk to the bed, glancing at the spot behind me DD disappeared into. ‘Sit down and you can hold him.’

  My mom’s face crumbles. ‘Oh, Stella, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. You shouldn’t have had to do this on your own.’

  ‘I didn’t. Someone showed up out of nowhere to help me.’

  Three years later

  Friday, April 4, 1997

  Lakewood, Los Angeles County, California

  I’m on my knees on the kitchen floor, holding my head in my hands. My hair covers my face, and I revel in the small form of escapism. I drag my hands down my eyes, trying to wipe away the exhaustion that started at 5:00 a.m. It’s been a shitty morning, and there are still another thirteen or fourteen hours until bedtime. I take a deep breath. I can have a better day tomorrow. I can sort out my life—tomorrow.

  ‘Mommy, what you doing?’ Max waves his spoon in the air.

  He must think I’m playing because he jumps on my back. ‘Go, horsey, go,’ he yells.

  ‘Get off me,’ I snap.

  Max slides off my back, fetches the paper towels, and kneels beside me. ‘Can I help clean?’

  I rip a sheet from the roll. ‘Don’t touch the broken pieces, or you might cut yourself. Grab the trash can for me.’

  I gather the broken cereal bowl and dump it in the trash. It clinks off Pamela’s empty wine bottle.

  The shower cuts off upstairs, and I push down the urge to bang on the door and ask her to hurry up. If I miss this bus, I’ll be late again. I finish cleaning the kitchen, wipe down the countertops, and rummage through the fridge, making sure there’s food for lunch.

  ‘I do feed him, you know.’ Pamela crosses the small space to the coffee pot and fills a mug.

  ‘Just checking.’

  ‘You know, if I could’ve had my grandkids first, I would’ve.’ Pamela grins into her coffee. ‘They’re so much more fun.’ She grabs Max off the floor and tickles his side as she twists him upside down.

  I slam the fridge closed. ‘It’s not like we can afford for me to stay home too.’

  She places Max on his feet, and her face softens. ‘I was only making a joke, Stella. I know you look after us all.’

  I dart down Rodeo Drive, balancing Cici’s coffee cup in one hand, smooth the wrinkles in my pencil skirt and attempt a wave at Tony, Chanel’s security guy.

  Crap, two guys are watching Cici’s Boutique, waiting on the bench near the entrance, framed by overflowing flower beds. They look like two models, about to be placed in a magazine. Their attention is on the door. If I’ve made customers wait, Cici will be pissed. At least I polished the glass doors before I left last night; last thing they need to be staring at is fingerprints while they wait for us to open. I slow, digging into my purse for the keys. I smile politely when the man on the right catches my eye, but I quickly turn to unlock the door.

  ‘We’re looking for Cici.’ He bounces to his feet. ‘We were told we could find a friend through her. Stella Lewis.’

  I stiffen. Nathan’s run out of money again. He warned me he’d have people watching. I don’t know what I expected of any thugs Nathan might send to scare me. But this guy should know who he’s here to threaten, not ask people on the street to identify his target. My heart speeds up and I don’t turn fully around when I answer. ‘We don’t hand out employee information,’ I manage evenly. ‘Who sent you?’ I twist the key in the lock.

  ‘I’m Michael, and this is David. We know Stella, sort of,’ he mutters.

  Like hell you do.

  Michael’s not very intimidating. He should probably work on that. He’s too attractive to be a professional thug, and lacks the confidence. Nathan obviously can’t afford to hire scary people.

  ‘Huh. Look, I don’t know what he promised you, but I never got any money. Why else would he leave? You should go too, or I’ll call the cops.’

  I put my weight on the glass door to push it open.

  ‘Sorry for the confusion,’ the other one says.

  It’s DD’s voice. Smooth and grating around the edges, all at the same time. The way he rolls some of his R’s and clips them in other words. It makes the butterflies in your stomach that you thought had died long ago churn back to life. His voice is calming and soothes your ears, through to your brain, and slides down your throat, making the rest of your body stand to attention.

  He grins and extends his hand to introduce himself. It’s not him. It looks like him alright. His hair is dark and his skin is tanned. His smile crooks slightly to the right, where he has one dimple. His face is the same, but he’s a hell of a lot younger than I remember. A younger brother maybe, or . . . oh shit, a son. He had a son, right? No, that was a stepson. He wouldn’t look like his younger twin.

  ‘I’m David Wembridge. This is Mike Knight. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re not here for anything untoward.’

  Untoward.

  Un.To.Wa.Rrr.D. I punctuate each syllable in my head. The Rs are rolling.

  Heat runs through me, as three years of dreaming about the man releases a desire for him I wasn’t even sure was real.

  I stare at his offered hand. It’s the same hand I clung to when I couldn’t stand on my own. The same hand that passed me fresh blankets to wrap Max in the first night he was born, when I hadn’t burped him properly and he threw up in his bassinette. There’s strength in those fingers and shading of blue veins over the back of his hands, leading to his solid arms. It’s the same hand but younger.

  He grins and drops his hand.

  Fuck, I forgot to shake.

  ‘We’ve just flown in from England, and a friend of ours told us to meet up with Stella. We have some business to discuss with her, and we weren’t sure how else to contact her. If we could give you our contact information, maybe you could pass it along to Cici when she gets here,’ David says.

  Stella.

  He’s never said my name before. I wish my name had an R in it so it would roll around his tongue, like he didn’t want to finish saying it.

  He’s looking at me like I’m a stranger. He doesn’t remember me. Why does he look my age? Why isn’t he floating around in a ball of white light?

  ‘What do you want to talk to Stella about?’ I narrow my eyes, knowing it will be interpreted as irritation, when really I want to see if the distorted glare from the sun surrounding this guy will make him look more or less like DD when I saw him departing.

  ‘It’s sort of private,’ Mike interrupts.

  ‘I’m Stella,’ I snap. And I was talking to DD, not you. ‘Tell me what you want and don’t waste my time. I have to get inside and start work.’

  ‘You’re Stella?’ Mike squeaks like a guinea pig, killing his attractiveness.

  DD sighs.

  God, I hope that’s in disapproval of his friend’s reaction and not disappointment that I’m Stella.

  ‘We’re here about your acting agency. I know you’re the best,’ Mike says. ‘I’m an actor, and I just moved here. I need you to represent me.’

  I deflate. I turn to the door, ready to go inside. When I worked for my dad’s agency, I yearned for my own career. No need to rely on a man or a husband for security. But one glimpse into the real Hollywood life, the cut-thr
oat business and fake loyalties, and I’m glad about my current job title. No way in hell am I going back to that world. ‘I’m not an agent. I’m a sales assistant.’

  I go inside and lock the door, not even looking at younger, hotter, possible DD. If it’s really him, he’ll be back. Because he said when he returned, it would be to save me from Nathan.

  My quick stop at the grocery store after work has set me back twenty-six dollars and a half-hour delay getting home. It’s nearly eight forty-five and Max is bouncing like a puppy at the door, waiting for me. I hate arriving home this late. The monthly inventory at the store delayed me another hour, which left me no spare time to go to the library as I intended and look for those paranormal books again.

  I scoop Max up in my arms as I step through the front door into the living room. He smells fresh out of the bath, and his soft pyjamas mould to my skin when he clings to me. Pamela says her goodnights as she jogs up the stairs. Juggling the grocery bag, I make it the five steps through the room to the kitchen, landing everything, including Max on the counter. Max tells me about his day with Pamela while I unpack the groceries. His chat consists of some truth and some make-believe moments of play time where dinosaurs attacked them, and they hid under the kitchen table.

  I’m only half paying attention, replaying meeting DD this morning. I kept expecting him to return to the store, so I could ask him what the hell was going on. Max’s voice is getting louder as he tries to hold my attention. I need to get Max wound down and into bed. Two hours of work await me, and I want it completed for Cici before morning. I need to show Cici exactly what I’ve got planned for the boutique redesign. Finally put my years of high-end shopping and spending to use.

  ‘Mommy, you’re not listening again,’ Max says.

  ‘Sorry, baby.’ I open my arms and Max jumps into them. We sidestep my purse and heels. ‘Let’s go watch TV in bed. I’ll come back and get you a snack and I can work in bed next to you.’

  ‘Don’t tell Granny. She won’t let me eat in bed,’ Max whispers in my ear.

  ‘Okay,’ I whisper back.