The Time Rip (24 page)

Jeremy was silent, so Freya risked a peek at his face and found him unreadable. She didn’t understand why she suddenly felt so nervous. Jeremy was managing to freak her out without giving any outward sign of temper.

Something must be giving him away; she could almost feel the threat humming around him and understood why Greg had not wanted to cross him. She felt her face prickle, a strange sensation, and suddenly did not know how to tell the lies she had prepared.

Jeremy watched the colour drain from her face and reined in his temper. He let go of her hand and sat back. “So Martin pulled a knife on you. Where did this happen, on the street in full view of everyone?” he asked, his tone bland.

“N-no, he pulled me into an alleyway and said he was going to teach me some manners, and then he pulled out a knife. I thought he was going to kill me. He was freaking scary, but I got away so it was okay. I guess it just made the rest of the day seem bad too, and that was all.”

“All. Yes, I see.”
As though that was not enough. Frustratingly, it was not
all
because Freya had been caked in mud and crying at his kitchen table here in 1908, which meant there was more to this story than she was currently telling him.

He laughed softly, surprising her. “Is that it then, the whole of your crazy day?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“You came to see me to collect your accounts I take it.”

Freya gave him a relieved smile and said, “Yeah, that’s it. So were they okay?”

“Yes. A few mistakes, but easily put right.” He stood up as he spoke, walking over to the stove and taking the pan to the sink to rinse through.

Freya let out a silent breath and took her empty cup over to him, surreptitiously peering at the dark aspect outside the window, and trying unobtrusively to see if Martin was visible from here.

The kitchen looked different in the lamplight. It seemed more old-fashioned somehow, as if the sunlight had taken with it all possibility of not being in 1908. It seemed incredible now that she had not guessed the truth immediately, but then Jeremy had not seemed like someone from another century, he still didn’t, she reflected.

Now that she knew more about him, she felt a shiver run through her at the thought of how vulnerable she had been that first day. She had not realised she had gone back in time. Had not been at all careful of anything she had said to him, and all along she had been an illegal traveller of sorts; had unwittingly walked straight into the lion’s den.

Jeremy rolled up his shirtsleeves and ran water into the sink. She tried to drag her gaze from the muscles flexing in his forearms as he washed up her cup. She felt blood warm her face and forced her mind away from the direction it was taking. She studied her feet, praying he would not notice her high colour and guess the reason for it.

He turned then, wiped his hands on a dishcloth, and stood directly in front of her, hands on the kitchen top on either side of her.

She looked up, thinking to push him away, but his hands were suddenly on her back, one skimming around her waist while the other slid up to the nape of her neck, holding her steady as he trailed a path of kisses over her jaw line. She clutched his shirt, trying to regain her balance, unable to think of anything but pressing closer.

“Are you going to tell me what happened after Martin pulled the knife on you, or am I going to have to get it from you in other, more interesting ways?” His soft voice pulled her back to reality.

She tried to get her stunned brain to think as the implication of his words sunk in, and decided it was probably a good idea to tell him more of what had happened. She had all her lies worked out now anyway. “Okay! I’ll tell you. But let me go first, I can’t think straight like this.”

She felt his shiver of laughter, his arms tightening a moment before he stepped back again, caging her in once more with both hands on the kitchen top. “Now, where were we?”

Freya sucked in a breath. After all her other victories today, she was damned if she would let herself be intimidated by Jeremy, especially when she was beginning to trust him.

“After Martin pulled a knife on me and shoved me against the wall, I don’t know how but I must have kicked him. I don’t remember it clearly, but he was hopping backwards and swearing…”

Freya hesitated, and then decided it was time to go with the lies. She only hoped they were close enough to what he might be expecting in order to ring true.

It was a risky strategy to let Jeremy believe she had a time device with her. She had not forgotten the lengths he had gone to the last time to take it from her, and was sure she wouldn’t escape from him again so easily if her plans did not work out. Well, it was now or never.

“I think it might have something to do with his mobile phone.”

Jeremy watched her intently, eyes narrowed, “Yes?”

“He grabbed me and I hit him with his phone. Then somehow I was in the field, and then I came here.”

She blushed and looked down, “Um, see, what happened was, he left his mobile at my place a few weeks ago. I would have given it back next time I saw him, but he called me and went crazy about it, saying I’d stolen it and other weird stuff. I was scared to meet him. Then all the rest of it happened, and now I think maybe the phone had something to do with how I managed to get here, if we really are in 1908.”

“Where is the phone now?”

“I don’t know. I dropped it when I hit him.”

Jeremy watched her closely. She was nervous, radiating tension, and it was not because she was remembering the attack. She was lying to him. It was all a little too glib, her sudden remembering of the phone. For some reason, Freya now wanted him to think she’d had a time device all along, but why and, more importantly, did she actually have one?

His eyes narrowed, “Where did all the mud come from?”

“I slipped and fell on the way here.”

Jeremy watched her flush slightly. She wouldn’t meet his eye and nibbled the edge of one finger. “Let’s try that again,” he said, and pulled her hand away from her mouth to kiss her. He broke off to whisper, “How did
you get so much mud on you?”

“I can’t think.”

“Let me help you.” He kissed her again, hands running down her back to pull her close.

She wasn’t going to tell him, she just wasn’t. In fact, she couldn’t quite believe he was arrogant enough to think this would work. She would tell him precisely what she intended and nothing more. She just wished it wasn’t so hard to think.

He broke off to murmur, “Did he push you in the mud, Freya?” His hands skimmed around her waist, burrowing under the shirt she was wearing, making her inhale sharply.

“No. I fell.”

“Where did this happen?” He didn’t wait for her answer but began to trail more kisses under her jaw line.

“Where was the mud, Freya?”

“The field. Jeremy—”

“Where is Martin now?”

“The field.”

He broke off again, “In 1908?”

“Yes.”

“He’s walking around out there in the dark in 1908?” He leaned back to view her better, eyes narrowed. “How long has he been out there?”

“He’s tied up, he can’t go anywhere.” She tried to pull him back but he was immovable, dark eyes wide with incredulity.

“He’s tied up? You have bound him?”

Oops. “Um…” She scrambled mentally for a way out, and suddenly found herself free as he stepped away from her completely. She grabbed the kitchen top with both hands to stop herself falling.

“How did you manage to bind him, Freya, did someone help you?” he frowned at her and she bit her lip, not knowing what to say.

She thought of his brother, Brett, who she was not yet supposed to have met. Then recalling her earlier lies about Martin’s mobile cum time travelling machine, and the demonstration Jeremy had given her of the real thing when he transported her from the market, saw her way clear and breathed silent thanks.

“When I kicked him he fell against the side of a skip and got knocked out.” That, at least, was true.

“So you brought him to me.”

Freya hunched her shoulders for a moment, “He pulled a freaking knife on me, he’s been practically stalking me for ages and you said you’d help deal with him…” she trailed off to study her hands and mumbled, “So, anyway, I thought you might help.”

“Why were you crying when I found you?” He had crept silently closer again, but after his burning kisses Freya was beyond feeling intimidated by his proximity.

She bit her lip again, “I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I don’t make a habit of kidnapping people. It freaked me out.”

He laughed and Freya stared up at him in bafflement.

“I think we had better find him.”

“I don’t know what to do with him now. I wish I had never brought him here.”

“Why did you bring him here? I realise that I offered to stop him pestering you, but I am not sure I would have tied him up and dragged him 100 years back in time. It does seem a little extreme.”

Freya huffed, “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Martin has been a monumental pain in the butt, and after the knife…” she glanced away.

Jeremy shook his head slightly in disbelief, but his tone held something else, “I must confess, I’m glad you brought him here. I will be happy to let him know what I think of those that threaten others with knives.”

“Don’t hurt him. It was bad enough that I tied him up and brought him here, I’m gonna have guilt for weeks over this as it is.” She wrapped her arms tight around herself as she spoke.

“Don’t worry Freya, I won’t hurt him today. Whereabouts is he?”

“He’s at the edge of the field nearest to the back door.”

“All right.”

Freya walked reluctantly by Jeremy’s side to where Martin lay in the long grass. So much for her plans. She could not see Jeremy letting her just walk away now. She had practically confirmed with her lies that she had a time device, even if it was supposed to be Martin’s. Jeremy would never believe she could have lifted Martin here by herself and there was no way she was going to betray Brett.

If she couldn’t escape from Jeremy, would Brett come looking for her? She didn’t want to be the cause of friction between the brothers, nor did she want Jeremy searching her for a time device she still didn’t have.

Freya bit her lip as she tried to decide what to do next. She sidestepped away from him slightly, trying to put a little space between them, but he caught her hand.

She flicked a glance his way, met his look, and could have sworn his eyes glinted in the darkness, “Is he far from here?”

Freya pointed to the boundary fence, “Just the other side.” She led him up to Martin and stood, uncertain what to do. Jeremy crouched down and ran his hands over Martin, much as Brett had done.

Could she make a run for it now, she wondered, while he was distracted? She shifted her weight from foot to foot. No. He would be after her like a shot and she would find herself locked up somewhere in the farmhouse.

Jeremy glanced up at her, “How long has he been unconscious?”

Martin began to speak at that point, weakly demanding to know what was going on, saving Freya from having to answer.

Jeremy pulled a penknife, the replica of Brett’s, from a pocket and cut through the plastic ties.

Martin groaned and blinked, “What happened to me, was I in a car accident, am I okay?”

Apparently, Martin was not at his best. Freya winced. His gaze rested on Jeremy in bewilderment.