Chaos (Lanie Bross) - Lanie Bross Page 0,60

stop.

Everything went still. The force of the quiet hit Luc like something solid. He lost his breath and sat up, gasping, blinking colored spots out of his vision.

Trees and a large expanse of grass. People laughing somewhere nearby and a rhythmic thwacking sound, like someone was playing tennis. To his right was a small pond. A family of ducks skated happily across it.

He stood up, dazed. This was Mountain Lake Park, not far from his apartment.

Somehow, he’d made it back home.

It was a sunny day, and birds were singing in the trees. He could hear no bulldozers, no sirens wailing, no rescue teams shouting to each other. None of the usual after-earthquake sounds. As he exited the park on Tenth Avenue, he saw no damaged buildings or piles of debris. Parents pushed strollers; joggers kept pace with their dogs; the whole city looked like it had been coated in new paint.

The streetlights worked and businesses were open.

It was as if the earthquake had never happened. Or as if it hadn’t happened yet.

Luc stopped so quickly that a jogger strapped with weights and water bottles bumped into him.

“Sorry,” Luc mumbled automatically. He barely registered the man’s dirty look.

For the first time in days, hope sprang to life inside him. What if it had worked? What if fixing the wires in the tunnel had actually moved time backward?

He started running as fast as he could, toward home. He cut across Lake Street, not even bothering with the crosswalk. Only when a tomato-red BMW slammed on its brakes, and the driver leaned out his window and called Luc an asshole, did he slow down. Jesus. If he got flattened by some dick in a sports car on his way back to the apartment, after all he had been through …

He waited impatiently for the light to change on Nineteenth, bouncing up and down on his toes, feeling like he did just before a big soccer game, like there were insects running through his veins. Left on California, and his heart hitched. Almost home.

Inside his apartment building, he took the stairs two at a time, then paused for just a second to catch his breath. His heart was hammering so hard in his throat, he could barely swallow.

“Hello?” he called as he stepped into the crappy little foyer and swung the door closed behind him. “Is anyone—?”

The words died on his lips. All the air seemed to go out of the room at once, taking Luc’s ability to think with it.

Sitting on the living room couch, in low-rise jeans and one of Luc’s old black concert T-shirts, was Corinthe.

He was afraid to move, as if any motion, the slightest vibration, might make her disappear. It felt like someone had pushed the mute button on his world, and cocooned him in this moment. He wanted to stand and stare at her forever.

But she had already seen him. She smiled at him and stood—moving, as always, fluidly, like water poured from a cup. She walked over to where his feet had become rooted to the dingy carpet. She laid her hand on his cheek. It was so warm. So real. She smelled real, too: like lilies and something else, something he couldn’t describe. The smell of a sunset. “I was worried about you,” she said, her purple eyes deepening.

Something broke in his chest.

Corinthe was here. She was real.

Emotion clogged his throat and tears burned the back of his eyes. He reached up and took her face between his hands. His hands shook as he brushed a thumb along her jaw. He moved his fingers through her wild, tangled hair, then pulled her close, into his chest. They fit together perfectly. He could feel her heartbeat reverberating in his chest: an echo of his.

“I missed you,” he whispered into the top of her head. It was all he could do not to cry.

“I missed you, too,” she said, and then pulled away, giving him a crooked smile. “Is everything okay?”

“It is now,” he said. When he finally moved his lips against hers, felt her respond to his touch, it was as if everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong, was driven back by the soft pressure of her lips.

He had done it.

Everything was fixed.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” he said, between kisses.

“Back?” She gave a half laugh. “You’re the one who left. Where were you this morning, anyway?”

He wondered—where had he been this morning? In this life Luc could’ve woken up to get bagels next