Souls Out of Time (An Era Apart Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  SOULS OUT OF TIME

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  SOULS OUT OF TIME

  Book 2 In The Trilogy An Era Apart

  CHRIS LANGE

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  SOULS OUT OF TIME

  Copyright©2016

  CHRIS LANGE

  Cover Design by Anna Lena-Spies

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-099-3

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  To my family

  for their unconditional love and support.

  Acknowledgements

  All my thanks to the fabulous Soul Mate Publishing team, in particular Debby Gilbert and Caroline Tolley.

  Prologue

  William Richardson sneaked out of his room. The ray of light brightened his back but didn’t quite dispel the shadows of the landing. Silence engulfed his house as the double glazed windows shut out the drone of traffic.

  He tiptoed in the semi-darkness along the hallway, confident the faint shuffle of his slippers on the floorboards wouldn’t rouse his daughter. When he reached her bedroom door, he pushed it ajar, an inch at a time, and listened.

  Her regular breathing warmed his heart. Tracy would sleep through the night, allowing him to do what he must do. She’d been so weary after their trip to the hospital.

  As she sat on a plastic chair in the waiting room, two interns came to lead him to another unit. He followed them solely to put her mind at rest.

  They ran some tests before indicating they’d keep him under observation for twenty-four hours. Like he didn’t have better things to do than waste his precious time lying on a hospital bed.

  True enough, he needed rest and a good boost to regain his strength though his own cocktails would do the trick much more efficiently than an IV drip. Why couldn’t those idiots realize he was fine?

  He had to raise his voice and snatch his shirt from the stupid nurse before they finally understood he didn’t give a shit about their advice. He was going home. If they wanted to keep him, they’d have to physically restrain him.

  They didn’t. He strode along the white corridors leading to the waiting room, grabbed his daughter’s arm, steered her all the way to the parking lot despite her reservations and pushed her into the car.

  Probably thinking of Garrett, she kept silent as she drove to Bonita Street. That was fine with him because he didn’t feel like listening to her complaints. He knew what she wanted to hear but life wasn’t a fairytale. More like a blend of sweet and hard events that sometimes forced a parent to distress his child. For his own good.

  He pulled her bedroom door closed, satisfied she wouldn’t wake up. Then he moved quietly to the top of the staircase and climbed down the steps. In the kitchen, he heated up some coffee, added sugar and dropped a spoon in the warm mug before heading to his study. Or as his wife used to call it, his sanctuary.

  The small lamp he switched on gave off a pleasant glow. He circled his desk and slumped onto the armchair. Although the past days took a toll on him and he’d rather be in bed, he still had an essential task to accomplish.

  He put the mug down on his desk, opened the top drawer, and retrieved the silver frame. No dust veiled the gorgeous smile, the beautiful face he longed to touch, the kind gaze so similar to Tracy’s. With hesitant fingers, he stroked the cold glass covering the full lips and whispered to the picture of his dead wife.

  “I miss you so much, Georgina.”

  The smile remained gorgeous and frozen in time. Maybe he shouldn’t talk to an image but the act always heartened him.

  “I wish you were here to advise me, to tell me I’m doing the right thing. Oh, God, Tracy might never speak to me again.”

  He let his thumb caress the contours of the cherished face. Had she still been alive, what would she have said?

  “You know, she’s a lot like you. I can see the same courage and the same passion in her eyes. Just like you were at her age.”

  Holding the frame in one hand, he reached for the mug and took a sip of hot coffee before looking at his wife again.

  “She’s amazing. She saved my life today without a care for her own safety. You’d be so proud of her.”

  When he set the picture on the desk, the soft glow from the lamp fell on it. He reached for his glasses, slid them up his nose, settled his elbows on a thin stack of paper, and tucked his chin over his fists.

  “What would you do in my position? She thinks I’m cold and calculating, and she’s right in a way. You knew better though. You loved me in spite of my mistakes. Tracy, well, she’s too idealistic.”

  No answer came from the face in the picture while he kept staring at it. No answer would ever come, as he was the only voice of reason in the household.

  “Georgina, I’m going to break her heart. That’s the last thing I want to do, but there’s no other choice. She doesn’t see the big picture. I’m well aware she won’t listen to me, so I have to do it for her.”

  He closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathed in and out to even his respiration, and looked at his wife again.

  “Garrett is an upstanding young man, I’m sure you’d approve of him. But you see, he’ll never be allowed to marry her. So what’s best for her? Keep her hopes up when I know the outcome will devastate her, or nip it in the bud?”

  In the back garden, shadows swished as the wind ruffled a willow tree when he glanced at the window. His wife’s static stare made his hands twitch in spite of the loving smile captured forever.

  “No doubt you’d side with Tracy. You’ve always been a sucker for passion and enduring love stories.”

  The recollection quirked the corners of
his mouth. How many dull, romantic movies had she watched while he worked for hours on end?

  “But you’re gone, and it’s down to me to guide her toward the best possible future. Even if she hates me for it.”

  When he shifted his elbows, two sheets of paper tumbled to the floor. He bent over to pick them up then dropped them on the desk.

  “I think it’s time to say goodnight, my love. I have a lot more to tell you, but I’m tired now and tomorrow will be a difficult day. Don’t worry about Tracy though. She’s a tough girl, she’ll survive.”

  He took hold of the frame and pressed a finger across his wife’s lips. With only silence around him, he placed the picture back inside the drawer.

  “Bye, Georgina.”

  The shutting sound of the drawer pushed him on his feet. Acting with purpose, he went around the cluttered desk, removed the blue carpet, activated the trapdoor, and climbed down to the basement.

  The computers hummed. He moved past them to reach the center of the room and observe his invention.

  He’d created the telepod with time travel in mind but the device somewhat turned out to be a half failure. Going to the past still proved impossible but on the other hand, he’d successfully designed a machine to cross over into a parallel world. Different from what he’d sought to achieve, but interesting nonetheless.

  Gliding his palm over the black surface, he felt the coolness of the metallic structure. Certainly an accomplishment to be proud of, although the consequences would now be tragic for his daughter.

  Yet his mind was made up.

  He crossed the room again and sat behind the largest computer. Eyes focused on the monitor, he asked for the Everett file. Charts filled the screen, numbers blinking past while he entered the core of the program.

  Resetting the parameters didn’t take longer than a minute. Now he only had to save the modifications to ensure his daughter stayed in this world. Yes, she’d hate him for this but it was for the best.

  His hand trembled, hovering over the keyboard. Alone in the brightly lit basement, he placed his finger on the enter key and closed his eyes.

  “Forgive me, Tracy.”

  Chapter 1

  He stirred beside her. Careful not to wake him up, Tracy got out of bed and shut the door without the slightest noise. She sighed on her way to the kitchen. Sunshine streaming in the small, yellow room, she made fresh coffee then went to check her mailbox. Bills, fliers, and an invitation for Tracy Richardson and guest to a housewarming party. What a wonderful morning.

  Back to the kitchen, Tracy suppressed a sudden urge to grab a sponge and scrub her appliances until sweat and exhaustion got the best of her. Why so nervous and restless? She poured coffee in her mug before sitting on the high stool by the window and let her gaze drift outside.

  She had just made a big blunder. The big blunder. In the world of blunders, it would have been fair to call it huge. What happened? Why didn’t she put a stop to it? As things stood, why did she initiate it?

  Remorse already creeping in, guilt biting, she blew out a breath. Although high school ended years ago, she’d just stepped on the right track to be crowned queen of morons. More to the point, how was she going to get out of it?

  She stared at the blue May sky, but the only cloud in sight didn’t provide an answer. Could she pack her bag now, board a flight to happy, happy land, spend her life on a sunny beach listening to rock music and never come back? She didn’t think so but it didn’t hurt to imagine it for a while.

  “Hi, baby.”

  Timothy came in cheerfully, only wearing his jeans. He kissed her cheek then grabbed a bowl along with the cereal box. Apparently she hadn’t been as discreet as she thought when exiting her bedroom.

  “Good morning, Tim.”

  Her greeting didn’t sound as joyful as his, but faking was out of the question. She gestured instead. “There’s milk in the refrigerator.”

  “Thanks.”

  She couldn’t deny the fact that he felt at home. He smiled while going for the fridge as if he owned it. “You wanna go somewhere tonight? Fancy eating out? The new Chinese place, you and me, what d’you say?”

  Would you care to join me for dinner, my lady?

  That was what Garrett Burnes would have said, or something close to it. Sometimes, she could still hear his voice in her head, the sound of his well-spoken words. She had no trouble picturing him either, his forbidding gaze, his powerful body, his devastating way of making love to her.

  A few hours ago, sex with Tim hadn’t been devastating. It had been pleasant. If she put her mind to it, she might come up with a string of nice, lukewarm adjectives to describe her huge blunder.

  On the other hand, Timothy, her ex-boyfriend, current best friend, and apparently lover since last night might not appreciate her list. She looked at him while he gobbled up his crunchy cereal.

  A kind person who would probably make her happy if she hadn’t stumbled across Garrett Burnes. The man who told her she was the love of his life, and whom she’d never seen again. She stared at her coffee. “Sorry, Tim, I’ll be working late tonight.”

  “All right, how about tomorrow?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve just received an important shipment at the gallery that I need to take care of. Maybe next weekend, we’ll see.”

  “Come on, Tracy.”

  With a slight frown that marred his usually smooth forehead, he put his spoon down, forgetting about his cereal.

  “Life isn’t always about work. That’s all you’ve been doing these past months, you need to get out.”

  “I guess we’ll discuss that topic later.”

  Later meaning never? She was sick of that kind of talk. Lately, all she seemed to hear from her friends revolved around her little self not going out. She knew she should, she didn’t feel like it. Period.

  “You know, Tracy, I’ve had enough of your attitude.”

  He suddenly pushed his breakfast aside before getting up, brow furrowed and looking concerned. “I mean, what’s wrong with you? Can’t you see you’re drifting apart from everyone? Even from me. All you care about is your painting and your gallery. It’s been going on for too long.”

  “That’s not fair, I—”

  “What about us?”

  He obviously expected answers she’d have to give at some point. She sighed as he opened his mouth, no doubt to launch into the delicate matter.

  “Last night didn’t mean anything to you, is that it? Or you’re gonna pretend it didn’t happen?”

  As much as she wished to forget, she didn’t possess the power to go back in time. Even her father wasn’t able to do that. Yet.

  “Of course not,” she said.

  “Good, because I had a heck of a time. It was kinda magic.”

  Oh gosh, not magic. Magic was bad, very bad. Magic lured people, charmed them, bewitched them, and at the last minute betrayed them. Garrett had shown her how the magic of love destroyed lives.

  “Please, Tim, don’t go down that road.”

  Realizing their moment of truth had come, she mustered the courage. “What happened last night had nothing to do with magic, just loneliness and booze. And you know it.”

  He took the empty bowl, put it in the sink, then stood there for a few seconds. A light smile played on his lips when he turned round. In a peaceful gesture, he held his hands up. “Okay, it wasn’t magic. But you got to admit it was kinda nice. I’m thinking we could do it again.”

  “Nice is the right word, and no, we won’t do it again. What’s the point? Look, I like you a lot but our time together is over.”

  He stared at her, yet his gaze took on a faraway look. A second later, he ran a hand through his fair hair. “I guess it is. I miss you, though.”

  “Tim, I’m right here.”


  He crossed the short distance between them, intent on making his point, and squatted in front of her.

  “You know very well what I’m saying. I miss fun Tracy. I miss ‘I-love-life’ Tracy. Where’s she gone?”

  Six months ago, the Tracy he described went to a parallel world. Part of her had stayed over there, but she couldn’t tell him that. She hadn’t told anybody. Although ignorant of the facts, Timothy had a point.

  Garrett was dead to her. Harsh as the truth felt, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life living in a lost dream. It was high time she got a grip on herself, and resumed her previous life. Her pain free life.

  Because of a sexual moment with Timothy, she’d been wallowing in guilt all morning. An odd sensation she didn’t care for, as though she’d been unfaithful to Mighty Lord Garrett Burnes. Now that wasn’t a thought worth pursuing. How could she be unfaithful to someone who chose duty over her?

  Garrett was the one who turned his back on her. He was the one who made her fall in love with him, only to betray her. Not the other way round. And who was to say Timothy hadn’t somehow shown her the way out of this vicious circle? She raised her head as a kind of liberation surged over her.

  “I don’t know where she’s gone, but she’s back. Actually, I think we should go for a drink tonight. I’ll call the girls.”

  “Terrific idea, I’m in. I’m sure the girls will be delighted. They’ve been very worried about you, too. So . . .” He paused mid-sentence to display his most charming grin while he extended his warm, open hand. “Friends?”

  “Friends all right, as soon as you get dressed,” she reminded him playfully while eyeing his bare chest. He looked down and nodded, already crossing the kitchen threshold and on his way to the bedroom. As an afterthought, she called out to him, “Tim! Thank you for, well, for everything. I guess I needed a good friend last night and you were there for me.”