Parallel Roads Read online

  Grabbing Tara by the hand, he ran for the bedroom door. ‘Keep low,’ he said. There was no real heat coming through the door. But when they pushed it open the smoke was everywhere, blinding and intense.

  They retreated back into the bedroom before Jessie slammed the door shut. ‘We’re not going that way, it’s too dangerous. We might suffocate before we even make it to the ground floor.’

  And downstairs was where the fire was raging, if the smoke billowing upwards was any indication.

  The bedside light flickered off when he moved into the ensuite. His big toe cracked against the vanity and he swore, even while he half-blindly grabbed at the towels hanging on twin rails. Turning on the basin taps he wet the towels until they were sodden. His eyes adjusting to the dark, he ran into the bedroom and stuffed the towels under the crack of the door to help keep out the smoke.

  Tara’s voice cracked. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘The window.’ He strode towards it and threw it all the way open before he looked below. It was a hefty drop to the ground. He could only be glad Tara had obviously not felt it necessary to install security screens. He turned back. ‘We’ll need the bedsheets.’

  It took far too long to tie them together before he motioned for her to climb out the window.

  Panic infused her voice. ‘What about you?’

  ‘You first, we don’t have much time.’ He was all too aware of the loudly crackling flames now, the steadily building heat and smoke. He kissed her, hard but quick. He held her stare, lending her strength. ‘Go.’

  She nodded. ‘Okay.’ She turned away from him and clambered onto the sill. Throwing her purse to the ground, she turned back, her stare intense. ‘I’ll be waiting for you.’

  ‘No. Once you’re on the ground, go and get help. Save your home.’

  ‘No.’ Her face had paled, but her eyes glittered with stubborn, passionate resolve. ‘It’s too late for that now. And … and I’m not leaving you.’

  He nodded, agreeing to anything as long as she was safe. He held the sheet steady as she clutched at the makeshift rope and began the precarious climb down. And all the while he couldn’t help but wonder over her calm in a crisis. Any other woman would be wringing their hands, or running around grabbing their jewellery and photos.

  The sheet suddenly slackened and he leaned over. She was on her arse, looking so very small in her overlarge t-shirt. When she gave him the thumbs up sign, relief coursed through him before he yelled, ‘Don’t go near the fire. Just stay put, okay.’

  I don’t want you to get hurt.

  He pushed the bed across the floor, closer to the window with its filmy net curtains. Trying to hurry and ignore the loud hiss, pop and crackling of the flames was near impossible, but his fumbling hands managed to tie his end of the sheet to the bedpost. He’d have further to drop than Tara, but hopefully no bones would be broken.

  Halfway down he realised he had no choice but to risk letting go even earlier than he’d anticipated. The heat was intense and the smoke suffocating. He dropped like a stone, hitting the ground with a grunt and half-rolling, half-dragging himself away from the building going up in flames.

  ‘Jessie.’ Tara ran to him and threw herself down to his level, her arms going around him as her tears started.

  Seemed shock had finally set in.

  ‘I’m sorry about your restaurant and your house,’ he said, hardly able to believe what had happened. It was too late to fight the raging flames. Everything she owned, everything she’d worked for, was even now going up in smoke.

  Her shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed. He pushed aside any injury concerns as he sat upright and tugged her closer still, absorbing her grief, her shock.

  His stare latched onto a sudden movement opposite the burning building. His stare narrowed, his parched throat drying even further. Someone stood in the shadows of the hotel, watching them and not lifting a finger to come to their aid.

  Harrison.

  Somehow it didn’t come as any surprise. He’d known the man was a dangerous nutcase, he just hadn’t realised how far the man was willing to go to stop Tara from seeing anyone else.

  ‘Come on,’ he murmured in her ear, ‘let’s get out of here, away from the heat.’

  And potential murderers.

  They leaned on each other as they slowly made their way to the Hummer. He helped her into the passenger seat before hobbling around to the driver’s side, and hoisted himself into the seat with a groan.

  He’d twisted a leg in the fall and grazed his shoulder, but otherwise he was relatively unscathed. Miraculous considering what would have happened if he hadn’t woken from his dream.

  In effect, his sister had saved him.

  A jolt of knowing hit him front and centre, pushing aside the usual scepticism he carried around.

  Thanks Lolli.

  It was too late to save the restaurant and upper level that was Tara’s home, and for a minute he and Tara simply stared out the windshield at the flames that were already beginning to lick at the outer walls, the SUV shielding them from the intense heat.

  ‘If we’d slept for even a few minutes longer, we wouldn’t have survived,’ Tara finally whispered, horror ripe in every word.

  ‘I know.’

  She shook her head. ‘I turned off the gas cooktops, I always do. I mean, I know I was in a hurry, but—’

  ‘Tara, don’t.’ Inserting the keys, he fired up the Hummer’s engine before turning to view her stunned face. ‘I’m guessing your friend Harrison would have called the appropriate authorities, now that he’s witnessed our escape.’

  ‘Our escape?’ she repeated, eyes widening in alarmed disbelief even before she twisted in her seat to search out the flickering shadows behind them. She turned back. ‘Jessie, you think Harrison tried to kill us?’

  He pushed the Hummer into gear and nodded. ‘Yes.’

  When he drove away from the crime scene, Tara asked almost dazedly, ‘Shouldn’t we stay for when the authorities arrive?’

  He let out a weary breath. ‘My guess is you’re not insured?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  ‘Then there’s nothing holding you here except an ex-boyfriend too dangerous to be around.’

  ‘So where are we going?’

  He turned to her. ‘If I tell you something weird, do you promise not to freak out?’

  Tara’s laugh was edged with hysteria. ‘After the day I’ve been through, I have my doubts anything you say could freak me out.’

  He checked his fuel gauge, relieved he’d had the sense to fill it up in the last town. ‘What if I told you I think I’ve found a gateway to another dimension?’

  She turned to him and breathed, ‘Shut the fuck up.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Tara asked.

  Jessie swiped a hand over his face, when all he really wanted was to take her in his arms and erase the horror she’d faced and all that had happened, however indirectly, since she’d met him. Christ, he wanted to thank her for even halfway believing him; for not looking at him like he was beyond crazy.

  He cleared his throat. ‘I think the only way I can prove it is to show you.’

  She nodded, ‘Okay,’ though her voice sounded small and uncertain.

  He kept his eyes on the road. But he could see her silhouette under the dash lights, see her close her eyes and lean her head back against the seat before she added, ‘I do trust you, Jessie.’

  Something in his chest ached as he put a hand over hers, aware how much smaller hers was beneath his clasp. Fragile. He’d do well to remember that. ‘Thank you,’ he rasped.

  She turned her hand over, fingers interlacing with his. ‘You know, Harrison starting that fire really doesn’t surprise me. He’s … volatile.’

  His thumb brushed across hers. ‘I know.’

  She let out a heavy breath. ‘That restaurant was my mother’s.’ Her eyes flicked open and she turned towards him. ‘She loved it a whole lot
more than I ever did.’

  He glanced towards her, heart heavy for her loss. ‘She’s dead?’

  ‘No. But she might as well be.’

  He didn’t need any dash lights to see her wet eyes, hear the choking back of grief in her voice.

  She cleared her throat and explained heavily, ‘My mother has Alzheimer’s. She’s in a nursing home now. She needs twenty-four-hour care.’

  No wonder Tara needed the money so badly. A failing business she probably kept on in honour of her mother and the daunting weight of ongoing medical costs would be impossible to face day-to-day. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said softly.

  God he’d misjudged her. Yes, she’d needed money, but it’d never been from greed and self-indulgence. Quite the reverse. Tara had been doing everything in her power to take care of a loved one.

  He knew firsthand how terrible it was to watch a mother slowly die before his eyes. In some ways he imagined death would have been preferable to seeing the person Tara loved becoming the shell of the person she’d once known. Hell, in some ways their mothers weren’t so different. Except Tara’s mum succumbed to a disease she couldn’t do anything about.

  Her hand tightened its grip, surprisingly strong. ‘You know what? Don’t be sorry.’

  He glanced her way, his thoughts clearing way for concern. But she was staring into the still-dark distance, her thoughts as far away.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but in a way the fire has been a blessing, a relief. The pressure to stay and slog it out has been taken away from me.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m free now to pursue my dreams and see if I can’t work my way into the best kitchens in the country.’

  Yeah … about that.

  He pushed aside the temptation to tell her. He didn’t want to give up the anonymity just yet of being plain and simple Jessie McCormick. In her eyes he wasn’t a celebrity chef and a wealthy man who owned twenty-three restaurants and that was how he wanted it to stay. At least for now.

  He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, before he murmured, ‘You give new meaning to the expression making lemonade out of lemons.’

  She laughed, but it was stark and raw with tiredness, a sound plumbed from the very depths of her soul. When he slowed a few minutes later and turned the Hummer onto the ‘shortcut’, he wasn’t surprised in the least to find she’d fallen asleep.

  He smiled, feeling emotions he didn’t want to feel. But somehow, despite all he’d been through, or perhaps because of everything he’d been through, Tara moved him in ways he’d never expected.

  Is that why you haven’t given more than a fleeting thought lately to Mercedes?

  He released a slow breath. He couldn’t think about the possibility that his ex-girlfriend had been relegated a back seat to his feelings for Tara. Not just yet. It seemed almost inconceivable that he felt so much for a woman he’d known such a short time when he’d known Mercedes for almost a decade.

  He touched the brakes, slowing for a trio of eastern grey kangaroos that bounded across the track ahead.

  Shit. He needed to concentrate, to think ahead. And not let his guard down.

  Did another dimension really exist? And if so … why? Had he been meant to find it? He scrubbed a hand over his face. There was no other explanation, logical or otherwise. Either he’d found a portal to other dimensions, or he’d really, truly, flipped his lid.

  Right then neither idea was palatable.

  The horizon was just beginning to pale with the coming dawn when the headlights finally hit the old house. He couldn’t contain a shiver from racing up and down his spine. Somehow, in the darkness the house looked spookily preternatural.

  Except for his fear of flying, he’d never had a superstitious bone in his body, at least, not until his chance encounter with this old, abandoned home.

  Chance encounter?

  Tara woke as he flipped off the lights and cut the engine. ‘Where are we?’ she asked, voice husky with sleep.

  ‘This is the place I was telling you about,’ he said, suppressing anxiety and keeping his voice steady.

  She straightened in her seat and then leaned forward a little to peer out the window and search the darkness outside.

  He reached over her and opened the glove compartment, retrieving the flashlight he kept inside. Flicking it on, he searched the compartment and then the rest of the SUV for a marker or a pen. Anything.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ she asked.

  ‘Something I can use as a marker,’ he murmured, more than aware just how odd that sounded.

  She unclipped her purse and pulled out a lipstick. ‘Will this do?’

  His face broke into a grin as he took it from her and pocketed it. ‘You’re a genius, you know that?’

  She giggled. ‘I was a bit of a dreamer as a kid … failed half my exams in high school, so that’s rather nice to hear.’

  He leaned over, kissing her with all the tenderness that curled at his insides; more than aware of the note of hysteria that edged her humour. He pulled back, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. ‘You also just happen to be an amazing, beautiful woman and a brilliant cook,’ he added gently.

  The flashlight caught her genuine smile and made his own lips curl before he climbed carefully out of the Hummer and slipped his keys into his pocket with the lipstick. Somehow having her with him settled his anxieties, levelled him out.

  Limping around the SUV, he opened the passenger door and clasped her empty hand, her other keeping a stranglehold on her purse as though it was her security blanket. He understood. The fire had wiped out every one of her personal effects. The purse was now her one and only keepsake from her own world.

  She climbed down then turned to him with a little smile. He smiled back, putting his arm around her shoulders and keeping her close. The flashlight bounced off the aged walls of the house, its dirty window revealing years of desertion.

  The muffled footsteps of their bare feet sounded like thunder in the thick silence, and they walked slowly over the broken shards of a pathway and through the tangled maze of scraggily grass.

  ‘What a creepy place,’ she whispered, almost reverently.

  He nodded. ‘It sure is.’

  He turned the doorknob and the peeling door swung inward. The musty smell hit hard as they stepped inside and he resisted holding his nose as he ran the flashlight’s beam over the room.

  ‘Oh my god,’ Tara whispered.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘That chair.’

  His breath hitched even before he shone the beam on the ugly, yellowish chair that was keeled on its side—the same chair he’d seen in the second-hand shop. When he breathed again, his voice came out rusty and disused sounding. ‘What about it?’

  ‘I have two of them in my attic at home.’

  For a moment he couldn’t speak, couldn’t process the thoughts flying around and around in his head. Somehow everything was interconnected, a puzzle with many of its pieces missing but within reach.

  ‘Seriously?’ he asked numbly, digesting this latest bit of news.

  ‘Yeah, well … I did.’

  Before the fire.

  She didn’t need to say the words.

  ‘I stored some of my junk up there. And those chairs—they’re butt-ugly,’ she admitted, a little guiltily, ‘but I couldn’t throw them out. They belonged to my granddad. He passed them onto Mum before he died.’

  Fuck.

  He restrained a further string of curses needing to burst free. ‘I understand. It’s a piece of your family’s past.’ To someone of Tara’s inherent warm-heartedness, it would have been sacrilege for her to simply throw those chairs away and forever dispose of a legacy from an earlier generation.

  A shiver spiralled through his gut and up his spine, a sprinkle of goosebumps flaring across his exposed skin. Was there even more to this place than met the eye? The connection to Tara and the chairs had to be much more than a simple coincidence?

  With all those th
eories and more clamouring in his head, he could only imagine Tara’s thoughts. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ he asked.

  She turned to him, voice a little shaky as she said, ‘I’m not about to wait in the SUV by myself, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’

  He caught her chin in his free hand, his eyes searching hers, reassuring her. ‘I’d never expect you to. We’re in this together now, okay?’

  She let loose a breath, the lines on her brow smoothing out with relief, or perhaps resignation. He couldn’t quite decide. But then she nodded and said, ‘Okay.’

  He swung the beam of light towards the ladder and took her hand. ‘This is where things start to get … interesting.’

  ‘You mean there’s more?’ she half-joked weakly.

  He nodded. ‘I’m afraid so.’ Placing one hand on a rung, he turned and gave her a smile meant to reassure before he asked, ‘You ready?’

  Her answering smile was tight but courage gleamed in her eyes. ‘Now or never.’

  He handed her the flashlight. He could put up with the dark if he had to. But he wasn’t sure just how much more bravery she could continue to maintain. ‘I’ll see you up there.’

  The darkness was absolute in the ceiling, tomb-like. Not even the outside glow of the growing dawn or the weakening light of the moon and stars were visible through the holes in the tin roof, which he knew were spaced in an endless procession either way.

  He heard a faint sound. Lolita?

  He shook his head. He’d let that damn dream get to him.

  ‘Did you say something?’ Tara asked him from below the ceiling, the flashlight’s beam bouncing around as she climbed.

  ‘No.’ Another round of goosebumps swept up his arms and over the bare skin of his torso. ‘Why? Did you?’

  ‘I thought you called out hello.’

  He swallowed. Hadn’t he heard that exact same thing just before he’d pushed open the front door of this house the first time? Already it felt like a lifetime ago since he’d first arrived.

  He helped Tara to her feet. The flashlight that cut through the darkness blinded him for a moment, but it didn’t stop Tara’s disbelieving gasp from infiltrating his ears, her total shock from curling around his psyche.