Chapter 13 #2
Jack chuckled, flipping on his turn signal. “Sort of. It’s called an airplane. It’s filled with people, traveling 460 to 575 miles per hour.”
I let out a low whistle. “That’s fast. Isn’t it… disorienting?”
“You’d think so,” Jack said, pulling into a parking lot. “But no. It’s a comfortable way to travel.” He cut the engine and turned to me. “Didn’t you ever travel by train in your time?”
“No,” I said simply, stepping out of the Jeep.
We entered what Jack called a “jewelry store.”
Glass counters stretched in every direction, filled with rings, necklaces, and gemstones that glowed under the bright overhead lights.
The selection was overwhelming, but my choice wasn’t difficult.
I picked out two simple gold bands—one for Olivia, one for me.
The cashier, a slight man with a neatly-trimmed mustache and friendly eyes, placed the rings on a black velvet tray. He glanced at me and asked, “Would you like a saying engraved inside the bands?”
I hesitated, the thought never having crossed my mind.
I looked at Jack.
“It’s your choice,” he said, his voice warm. “Rodrigo is an outstanding jeweler. And I’d love to send you off on your journey with two rings of the finest quality and craftsmanship.”
I swallowed hard, deeply moved by his generosity.
Jack pressed his palms against the glass counter. “Is there a phrase you’d like inscribed? Something with meaning?”
My mind raced, sifting through words, searching for something perfect.
Then—suddenly—it hit me.
Forever yours, my beautiful flame.
Rodrigo snatched a pen, scribbling down the phrase with almost feverish enthusiasm.
Then he paused, glancing up. “And for the other ring?”
Heat rushed to my face.
I turned to Jack, silently pleading for help.
Without missing a beat, he stepped in smoothly. “I’m sure Olivia would want yours to say, ‘Forever yours, Roman.’”
Rodrigo grinned, jotting it down with satisfaction. “Excellent!” He clapped his hands together. “We’re not too busy today—I can have them ready for you this afternoon.”
Jack nodded, pleased. “Perfect. Roman’s leaving on his trip soon.”
Rodrigo’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “And where will your travels take you?”
I hesitated, glancing at Jack.
He chuckled. “Italy. He’s going to Italy.”
Rodrigo’s entire face lit up. “Ah! Bellissimo!” He kissed his fingertips dramatically. “Declaring your love in Italy—there is nothing more beautiful.”
The overhead lights gleamed off the top of his bald head as he beamed at me. “I am honored to send you on your way with these rings.”
I exhaled, feeling a strange mix of nerves and gratitude.
Soon, I’d be leaving.
Soon, I’d be one step closer to Olivia.
And no matter what lay ahead…
I would return to her.
After leaving the jewelry store, Jack and I wandered along the sidewalk, weaving through the vibrant streets of Seattle’s downtown area, Wallingford.
Shops painted in every imaginable color lined the streets, their window displays filled with everything from books to clothing to strange, modern devices I still didn’t fully understand.
The sun beat down warmly, a welcome change from the usual damp chill of this city.
I knew I would miss certain things about this era—the brilliant sun, the vast waterways, the simple pleasures of coffee, bacon, waffles, and the luxury of indoor plumbing.
But the rain?
No. I wouldn’t miss that. Seattle had far too much rain.
Something caught my eye as we strolled past a shop labeled a hardware store.
Several rifles were displayed in the window, lined up in neat rows. A few handguns rested beside them, one of which looked strikingly familiar.
I slowed my pace, studying them carefully.
“Is this where Olivia purchased her gun?” I asked.
Jack’s head snapped toward me, his eyes widening. “Olivia still has her Glock?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding toward the window display. “Same as that one.”
Jack’s face drained of color.
“Has she fired it?” he asked, his voice tight.
I frowned. “A couple of times, yes.” His sudden alarm puzzled me. “Why?”
Jack threw his arms in the air. “She could alter history!”
I blinked. “You’re concerned about that?”
“This is terrible!” He ran a hand through his hair. “If she’s not careful—”
I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Jack, relax.” My lips twitched slightly. “It’s not as bad as you think. She uses it judiciously, I can assure you.” I turned back to the window display. “But I do think she’d appreciate more ammunition. Do you think they sell gunpowder here?”
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “Gunpowder?” He let out a breathy laugh. “No, Roman. Now we use something called bullets.”
“Bullets,” I repeated the word, rolling it over like a foreign concept. “Do you know what kind Olivia needs for her gun?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. Let’s head inside and pick some up. You can take them with you.”
***
After our trip into town, we returned to Jack’s house just as the sun dipped below the horizon, streaking the sky with gold, crimson, and violet hues.
I breathed in the crisp forest air, relieved to be away from the relentless noise of the city. The hum of the town had been overwhelming—the traffic, the crowds, the sheer energy of it all. Out here, surrounded by towering trees and the whisper of the wind, I could think again.
I made my way to my bedroom, placing the rings and bullets in a safe spot before heading back to the kitchen.
When I entered, Lee stood by the counter, his posture stiff—his expression… almost apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice measured. “For not being able to give you more information. Jack told me how distressed you’ve been.”
I exhaled sharply. “A bit, yes.” I pulled out a chair and dropped into it.
Jack turned to me. “Beer?”
“Yes, thank you.” I drummed my fingers against the table. “Jack explained why you’re keeping things from me. That you’re trying to protect us.” I sighed. “I can live with that—for now.”
Jack set a cold beer in front of me. I nodded thanks, twisting off the cap and taking a long swig, letting the cool bitterness settle in my chest.
Lee hesitated, then pulled out a chair across from me.
“I’ve come to ask you a favor,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Lee reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope, setting it on the table between us.
“This is a letter for Marcellious.” His voice was quieter now, tinged with something raw. “The boy I raised—the child I loved—has been gone for so long. I need to see him again, to talk to him.” His fingers brushed the letter’s edge. “This explains everything.”
A weight settled in my chest.
I picked up the envelope, turning it over before setting it back on the blue-and-gold placemat.
“I don’t even know if he’s alive, Lee.”
Lee winced, his face like carved granite. “I pray that he is. Find him and give him this letter.”
I tapped the envelope, considering. “I’ll take it—but there are no guarantees I’ll find him.”
Lee nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
I turned to Jack. “Have you checked on our prisoner?”
Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. “Oh yes. He was bellowing for food and water, so I fed him a peanut butter sandwich and gave him a water bottle.” He frowned. “He doesn’t look so good, Roman. He looks… ghastly.”
“I wish he looked worse,” I muttered, rolling the beer bottle between my hands.
Jack cringed slightly. “We’ve learned to be kinder in this century. We don’t take matters into our own hands.”
I scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. That makes you depend on others to secure your land and property—to protect your family.” I picked at the beer label, irritation prickling beneath my skin.
Jack let out a chuckle. “Yes, it does.” He glanced at me, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m sorry we won’t have time for me to share this land’s rules and customs.” His smile deepened, though it was tinged with something almost melancholy. “Perhaps when you return.”
I was going to miss them—Lee and Jack.
And though I didn’t know when or how, I hoped to return to this place someday.
With Olivia by my side.
When the time was right.
***
On the morning of the full moon, after breakfast, I secured my packages, straightened my bed, and did my best to leave my room in order.
Then, I made my way downstairs to the basement.
Tristan sat slumped in the chair, his face swollen and discolored, a patchwork of black and blue. The gashes on his skin had started to heal, crusting over with scabbed flesh. He looked miserable.
I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
“Hey, asshole.”
Tristan’s bloodshot eyes jolted up, burning with resentment.
“Are you ready for our little trip? We’re heading to Italy.”
A frown tugged at his mouth, but he remained silent.
I stalked forward and gripped his jaw, squeezing his cheeks between my fingers.
“And you’re going to do everything I say,” I warned. “Or I’ll kill you.”
He jerked back, trying to break free. I held firm.
“I don’t care if your daddy comes after me,” I murmured, my nails digging into his skin. “You move when I say move. You breathe when I say breathe. You swallow when I say swallow. Got it?”
Tristan clenched his jaw, his silence a pathetic attempt at defiance.
So, I shook him—hard.
“I’m talking to you.” My voice turned sharp. “You will follow my orders, or you’re dead.”
I leaned in, my lips curling into a wicked smirk.
“They might have rules about kindness and mercy now, but I guarantee those rules don’t exist in 16th-century Italy.”
His breath hitched.
I dug my blunt fingernails into his jaw, just enough to make him wince. His eyes squeezed shut.
“I still haven’t heard you acknowledge my orders, Tristan.” I tilted my head mockingly. “And I can screw with you all day if needed.”
Tristan’s eyes flew open, panic shining in their depths.
“I understand you,” he blurted. “I’m to follow your command and nothing else.”
“Good.” I flung his head to the side, watching him struggle to hold himself upright. “And if you even think about escaping?” I leaned in, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re even deader. Understood?”