Persistence of Vision

  Chapter 3: Breaking Away

  She glanced warily at his outstretched hand but didn’t take it. After a moment, it dropped. Silence stretched between them, and she realized he was waiting for her to speak.

  “Who are you?”

  “That’s a long story. We don’t have time to go over all of it. This man shouldn’t be here. The fact that he is—that he got here first—means we should move quickly. I need you to trust—”

  “I saw you in Vegas. Are you the reason my brother and I lost time?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You saw me in Vegas? What…” He searched her face, as though the explanation should be written there. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh come on. You must remember. You grabbed my arm and looked at me like you knew me. Are you telling me it’s a coincidence that half an hour later my brother and I blacked out and lost twelve hours of our lives?”

  Until the words were out of her mouth, Maggie never considered that her encounter with him and her time loss might be related.

  He was silent for a long time, and she looked away from his penetrating gaze.

  Finally, he spoke. His voice was soft, controlled. “Of course I remember, Maggie. But you shouldn’t.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “Tell me everything you remember about Vegas. Specifically, what you remember about me.”

  Maggie threw up her hands. Why was he suddenly the one asking the questions? “Who are you?”

  He heaved a sigh. His eyes wandered briefly around the room, resting on the dead man. It seemed to jolt him back to his original purpose.

  “My name is Marcus, Maggie.”

  She opened her mouth to shout again, but he raised his hands.

  “I can’t tell you much more than that right now. We have to go. It’s not safe here. I know you have no idea who I am, but I need you to trust me. I need you to come with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you explain yourself. And him.” She nodded toward the dead man.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Maggie—”

  “Then don’t be ludicrous! You come into my house a year after doing heaven-knows-what to me and my brother in Vegas. You kill a man in my parlor, and now you think I’ll go with you? I have no reason to trust you. I’m calling the police.”

  She swung around onto her knees. Before she could pull herself to her feet, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her upward. His face was inches from hers, as it had been in Vegas, and she could feel his hot breath on her forehead. His unmistakable eyes—a rainbow of hazel—held anger. His vice-like grip said he wasn’t planning on letting go.

  “You dated a man named Jared several years ago, almost married him. When he dumped you, he took things you had told him—personal things you’d never told anyone else—and threw them in your face. He tore you to shreds emotionally. Since then, you haven’t had any serious relationships. You find ways to sabotage them, because you’re afraid of being hurt that deeply again.”

  Maggie’s lower jaw slowly cranked away from her upper one as he spoke, her eyes widening in sync with her mouth. When he finished, she snapped her mouth shut, blinking rapidly.

  “How do you know that? What are you, stalking me or something?”

  He smiled at her. It seemed genuine.

  “Even a stalker couldn’t have that kind of insight into your soul. I know because you told me.”

  “I did not—”

  He raised a hand. “I know you don’t remember telling me, but you did. If you’ve never told anyone, how else could I know? You said you had no reason to trust me. Consider this reason: in another place, another lifetime, you knew and trusted me enough to tell me your darkest secrets. Trust me now.”

  When she didn’t reply, he went on, his eyes begging her. “Is there any other explanation for me knowing that?”

  She had no answer. She’d never admitted what he’d said, not even to herself. She’d never fully formed the thoughts. Yet, he was right. That was exactly what had happened and what she had been doing since. How could he know that about her?

  “Maggie, if you can’t trust me, I understand. But trust yourself, even if it’s another self you can’t remember. More men like this one are coming soon. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

  Maggie looked at Marcus then at the dead man on the floor. He had saved her life and healed a serious injury. She took a deep breath and asked herself how she felt.

  She reached over and took her purse from the couch. Ever since Vegas she’d carried a small .25 caliber handgun. If he tried anything, she would be able to defend herself. Against her better judgment, she nodded.

  “All right.”