Page 194 of Wallflower

It's said in some circles, that when you suddenly jerk awake from sleep, another version of you, from a different timeline, died.

The scientific ones, like Chelsea, say it’s because your heart rate decreased so rapidly that your brain wakes you up to make sure you’re still alive.

After everything I’ve been through, I’m inclined to think both are true.

Evening creeps in as dusk starts to swallow the skyline. The sand beneath us retains the warmth of the sun, and I’m in no rush to leave the beach just yet. Next to me, Ripley loungesdocile as a lamb, his fingers threaded through mine, brim of his hat pulled low, covering his eyes as he dozes.

Neither of us are sure what exactly happened, where we were, or how it can be explained. What we do know, is the eviscerating feeling of loss caught us both off guard.

I’m just happy he didn’t witness the final moments of that place—nightmare, time slip, parallel universe, whatever it was…the memory would haunt him. The laboured, wheezing breaths I took crawling to his dying light would undoubtedly wake him in the dead of night. Rip must not have gone to the in-between like I did. He didn’t see me pick up the gun that was painted with his brain matter and use it to blow a hole through my own skull, because living without him was a fate worse than death.

I’d just watched him fall apart, only to return as he was chasing me to where I’d just come from.

Fate’s fucking cruel, and I refuse to squander this second chance she’s gifted us.

Looking to Rip, my breath catches. It’s an annoying thing, having to fight back emotions every time my gaze lands upon him.

He kept his word where Maximus was concerned, eliminating him immediately and taking Bleakcrest over with a swarm of his own men.

Chelsea, the eavesdropping asshole, watched Ripley and I reunite through the crack in the bathroom door. I don’t think she fully understood what Rip and I were discussing, or what she was agreeing to when she told me “go.” However, I wasn’t about to argue with her when everything was lining up perfectly. We communicate daily, and she’s coming to visit at the end of this semester, hopeful to return Ripley’s guard dogs to their rightful owner. Unfortunately, for her, I won’t allow that. The team will be swapping out for a new one. Hopefully, this group is better at staying hidden than the previous one. Ripley trained thempersonally so they get it right this time, sending my feelings for him shooting into the stratosphere.

He’s crazier than I ever gave him credit for. Intercepting the ship, and boarding it. Driven by hope and a gut feeling alone. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, but not in the immediate way he did, without batting an eye. I’d have sat on it, played it over and over in my head until it drove me insane. That’s when I would've gone searching for answers.

I untangle my fingers from his. Rising from the sandy towel, I make off toward the slowly lapping waves. The water’s chilly as it touches my toes, but I only need to dunk myself quickly.

Wading out until the water covers my hips, I steady my jitters and dive beneath the surface. My scarlet hair fans around me when I pop back up, close to the shore.

A giggle bubbles up when I take off running back to where Ripley lays, clueless and vulnerable.

I line myself up with his sleeping form, leaping to thump down beside him in hopes of shocking him awake with the frigid water.

Mid-jump, his arms open wide. Rip wraps me in his crushing embrace when our bodies collide, rolling me pinned and helpless beneath him.

“How’d you know I left?”

“I feel your absence as well as your presence, flower.”

“It’s not fair you can do that, and I can’t.”

“Sure it is.”

“How so?”

“You’re the one who likes to be chased. It only makes sense that I know where you are while you’re cute and clueless as to where I am. Makes sneaking up on you that much more fun.”

I roll my eyes. Can’t argue with that logic, I do love to be pursued…hunted.

Without a doubt, I know he’ll follow me wherever I go, no matter the distance or reality. Time and space won’t stop him.

Ripley’s grip on me loosens. “First one home get’s to fuck the other any way they want,” he says, jumping up and taking off toward the gate at the back of the beach.

“That’s cheating!” I call out, but he’s so fast, all I catch is his muscular back dipping into the shadows to thescreechof rusty hinges. “Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.

Swiping up our towels and shaking the sand from them, I lay them over my arm before starting the slow trek back home. If he wants to run, I’ll rival the pace of a snail in the cold.

The latch scrapes its familiar metallic sound when I lift it, pushing the heavy gate open. The alley is dark, deserted. I’m thoroughly annoyed I have to walk the unsettling length of this alone, in nothing but a black and white checkered two piece.

“Such a pretty little thing shouldn’t be walking all alone, and so…enticingly dressed.”