Chapter 17

The conversation with Kieran went downhill after his admission. They’d parted soon after, with the other man promising to stay in touch. Oddly comforted by that, Rory at least knew he wasn’t crazy. He’d been seriously worried about that the past few weeks. The hairs prickled on the back of his neck, as if someone watched him. With the wall to his back, he had the whole pub laid out in front of him. No one could get the drop on him but the feeling persisted. Part of him wanted to call Doc. Talk to her at least, if he couldn’t hold her in his arms. His shaft hardened just thinking about her. He backed off. No woman had ever affected him like that. Why this one?

“D’uh.” He almost pulled the literal action of banging his forehead on the table. Soul mates? Really? Suspicious now, he shoved thoughts of Delaney to the rear of his memory. Maybe he’d call Hoss, meet the big guy at the gym for some sparing. A good hard workout. That’s what he needed. And a cold shower.

****

Several hours later, his hands were stiff and sore from working over the heavy bag. Rory danced on his toes, still restless and unsettled. His muscles ached but not from the workout. Delaney. He wanted her near. No, he needed her near. Where he could see her. Smell her. Touch her. Hear her laughter. Kiss her lips and fit his body into hers. Lost in the sensations, he didn’t hear the stealthy footsteps, didn’t sense the man creeping up behind him until too late. Two hands planted in the middle of his back and shoved him up against the lockers.

“What the hell?”

“You think you’re so damned good, MacDermot. You aren’t shit compared to me. I just got the drop on you.”

New Boy. “What do you want, Carter?”

“I want your damned job, MacDermot. I want everyone to know what an asshole you are. I want you on suspension instead of me.”

Breathe. “You’ll never be as good as me, New Boy.”

“Wanna bet?”

Footsteps. Someone else was in the gym. Question became was it a friend of his or a friend of Carter’s? Rory could take more than one, even tired and sweaty from his workout. His training kicked in and the OODA loop played in his head. Observe. Orient. Decide. Act. He planned out his moves. Relax. Drop. Turn. Shoulder to gut. Drive Carter over the low bench running down the center of the locker room. A pretty boy, Carter on the defensive would protect his face. You didn’t go for the face in a fight. You went for the gut. And lower. You fought to win. Didn’t matter if the win was dirty or clean so long as you won. Rory almost hoped Carter had reinforcements. He was spoiling for a fight. Beating the crap out of a heavy bag wasn’t near as satisfying as the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

“I’m gonna make you pay, MacDermot.”

He laughed. “How? By talking me to death?”

Carter’s fist twisted in Rory’s tee shirt. There. That’s what he’d been waiting for. He relaxed, let his knees collapse. The move caught New Boy off balance and his face slammed into the locker over Rory’s left shoulder. Twisting, he squirmed out of the tee shirt and drove his shoulder into Carter’s solar plexus. The oomph of exhaled air was exactly the sound he wanted to hear. He wrapped the other man up in a bear hug and pushed him backward toward the bench. Once on the ground, he’d be able to handle Carter. Anger fueled recklessness and recklessness could be used to advantage when you kept your cool, stayed in control.

The force of Carter’s legs hitting the bench sent the two of them over and to the floor on the other side. Rory rolled and came up on top. He straddled the other man’s chest and scrabbled to grab Carter’s flailing fists. He really wanted to beat the guy until he was bloody but didn’t. Cool. Calm. Collected. He was in charge. Carter forgot everything. Everything but his anger at Rory. The guy screamed and cursed, spitting at him. He simply kept his mouth shut, squinted, and squeezed his thighs tighter around Carter’s chest. He snagged one wrist and hung on. Grabbed the other and wished he’d had time to grab a set of cuffs from his locker.

“Ahem.”

Rory looked up at the polite cough. Captain Davis. How long had he been standing there?

“Good to see your training is up-to-date, MacDermot.”

“Yessir.”

“Nice reversal there. I thought he had you for a minute.”

“Thank you, sir, but no way was that going to happen.”

Davis raised his right hand to shoulder level and waved it forward from the wrist. Three uniformed officers appeared from behind him. One each grabbed Carter’s arms and Rory slid off, rising to his feet in a quick upward surge. He backed away to let the three uniforms finish subduing Carter. They handcuffed him and marched him out. Carter didn’t say a word, but the stare he offered Rory promised things weren’t over between them.

Davis said nothing until the others cleared out. He favored Rory with a long look. “If Dr. Burns hadn’t signed off on your release already, I would have after witnessing this little altercation.”

Rory laughed, a sharp bark of sound. “Little altercation, sir?” He didn’t hide the sarcasm.

“You kept it small, MacDermot. You handled him with the full intent to control the situation and not let it escalate. Another man with the same history attacked like you were? The outcome could have been far different. Carter will be discharged, pending a hearing. It could easily have been both of you up on charges.”

How did someone reply to that? Rory simply kept his mouth shut but nodded, one brief, emphatic dip of his head.

“Get a shower, MacDermot and come to my office.”

“Yessir.”

****

Delaney stared at her best friend. Bronwyn had been avoiding her for weeks now but she’d finally tracked the other woman down and dragged her to lunch. Bronnie refused to look at her.

“What’s wrong? Have I upset you?”

Bronwyn’s eyes filled with tears. “You upset me? Oh, Laney!” She wailed Delaney’s name, turning the last syllable into at least twenty undulations—a vibrato any opera singer would be proud of. “I figured you hated me.”

She wondered what it was about the long “e” sound that made it so ripe for bawling modulation? Doing her best not to wince, she shushed her friend. “Bronnie. Listen to me. Shhhh. It’s okay. Why would I hate you?”

“Because I introduced you to Mr. Scumbag of the Year.” She sniffled and swiped at her nose with her napkin. “I can’t believe he turned out to be such a total jerk. I thought you two were perfect for each other.” Her face screwed up and she was about to utter another wail.

“Bronwyn, hush! Seriously. People are staring.” Delaney glanced around the restaurant furtively. “I’m not mad at you, okay?”

More sniffles and a hiccup later, Bronwyn heaved a deep breath. “Thank you. I really thought you’d hate me forever. I know how you feel…felt about him. And he was perfect.”

Delaney shook her head. “No. He wasn’t perfect. At least not for me. Nessa? Yeah. They deserve each other. But he wasn’t perfect for me.” She touched her mouth self-consciously, remembering the touch of Rory’s lips on hers. “No, he definitely wasn’t perfect for me.”

Bronwyn added a second huge sigh and then gulped her appletini. She waved toward their waitress, holding up the glass in a silent order. “Well…good then. I guess.”

“Yes, hon. Very good.” She glanced around again to make sure people’s attention had reverted elsewhere. “Want to know something really weird?”

Bronwyn’s eyes widened and she leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, d’uh. What?”

The waitress appeared and Delaney held her thoughts until she’d delivered Bronwyn’s drink and disappeared with the empty glass.

“What?” Bronwyn demanded again.

Delaney leaned forward, too, adding to the feeling of secrecy. “I think Connor and I were supposed to meet. But not so we’d be together.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Shhh. Keep your voice down. I mean, I think Connor and Nessa were meant to meet and be together. And they wouldn’t have if you hadn’t introduced me to Connor. But it’s okay because…well…”

Bronwyn’s eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth. She hissed around her fingers, “Who? Who have you met?”

Delaney checked for eavesdropping ears once more. “Rory.”

“YES!” Bronwyn jumped up and fist-pumped. “I knew it! Details, girl. I want the details.”

Cheeks flaming with embarrassment, she admonished her friend. “Bronnie, please! Shush.” Delaney waited until Bronwyn sank back into her chair, even though the girl continued to bounce in excitement. Inhaling to steady her nerves, she continued. “Rory took me to the engagement party.”

“He did? I bet he totally rocks a tuxedo.”

She grinned and glanced down, heat still radiating from her face. “He absolutely rocks a tux. I thought the evening would be a total bust and second guessed myself the whole time. At least until we met Connor’s parents.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “That’s what was weird, Bronnie. Connor’s father? It’s like he and Rory were long lost friends. I know they’d never met before, and Kieran is old enough to be Rory’s father. Even so, they acted much more like peers than say…Connor and Rory. And I know there’s only a year or two difference in their ages.”

“Bizarro.”

“Exactly! At the dinner? Kieran insisted that Rory sit next to him. The caterers completely rearranged the head table to accommodate him.”

“Dude!”

“I know, right? And they talked all through dinner.”

Bronwyn hummed the theme from the Twilight Zone. “What did they talk about?”

“All sorts of stuff. Guns. The military. Kieran. MacDermot was in the Irish Army—some sort of special ranger or something. And Rory was a Marine before he joined the police department.” Delaney leaned back in her chair. “But it was more than that. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Bronwyn offered a crooked grin. “Sort of like us? I mean, we were like BFFs five minutes after we met in Mrs. Nigh’s second grade class. Right?”

She chuckled. “Right. We were. I think it might have been something like that, though I’m not sure men connect that way. Bronnie? May I ask you something really off the wall?”

“Sure, hon. Always. Best friends forever, right? You can ask me anything.”

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

The other woman gulped her appletini and sputtered. “Really? You’re asking me this? Miss Queen of New Age Tarot-reading SCA Costume Role-playing me? Seriously?”

Delaney giggled. “I forget you dress up and play wench at the Renaissance Faire.”

“I swear I was a witch or fortune teller or something in a former life.” Bronwyn waggled her finger. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious. There are times during faire season that I’m way more comfortable there, talking to knights and knaves, than I am stuck in traffic on my way to work.”

“I’m not laughing at you, Bronnie. Promise. I just can’t believe I forgot. You know the feeling then. I have another weird question for you.” At her friend’s encouraging nod, Delaney continued. “Have you ever had a dream…or a daydream you thought was real? Thought you’d actually lived and done that action before?”

Bronwyn tilted her head. “Not sure what you mean, babe.”

Delaney sighed as she worked up her courage. “Here lately, some things have happened. Sort of.”

“What sort of things have sort of happened?”

“Dreams. Sometimes lucid dreams where I’m transported somewhere else.”

“What? Like Kansas, Dorothy?”

She shook her head. “No. And I’m being serious, Bronnie. It’s happened a couple of times. I’ll be somewhere…normal and the next thing I know, it’s like I’m tumbling through space and when I open my eyes, I’m someplace else. Like in the past someplace else. And I’m me…but not.”

“Whoa-ah. Dudette. Out of body astral projection time! That’s too cool. I’ve always wanted to be able to do that but I’ve never been able to.”

“I don’t do it on purpose, Bronnie! It just happens. And it’s freaky. Really freaky. I can’t tell anyone but you.”

“Why not?”

“Because people will think I’m crazy.”

Best friend or not, Bronwyn glared at her. “Oh? So I’m crazy, too, and therefore that makes you the sane one.”

Sighing, Delaney reached over and patted Bronnie’s arm. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re the only one who might come close to understanding what’s happening to me. Bronwyn, I’m seriously scared of what’s been happening.”

“Déjà vu all over again, right? Maybe you’ve found a worm hole or something and you’re doing some temporal displacement.”

“I’m pretty sure wormholes only exist in space, not here on Earth. And it’s not so much déjà vu as it is…I don’t know.” She twisted her napkin in her hands.

“Okay, so tell me about the first time it happened. Where were you? Where did you go? And what happened while you were there?”

The waitress appeared with their food, giving Delaney a few moments to marshal her thoughts. When was the first time? If she were honest, there’d been incidents in her childhood, though fleeting. Her parents admonished her to stop daydreaming. Assured their food was fine, they needed no more drinks, or anything else, the waitress left them alone again.

“The day Connor and Nessa met.”

“Ouch. You never did tell me about that.”

“Connor invited me to lunch and Nessa showed up. I still don’t know how she found us. She just appeared at the table, sat down, and…took over. Though to be honest, Connor was as…I don’t know. Enamored? Spellbound? He took one look at her and it’s like I no longer existed.”

“Dang. That’s gotta be murder on the ego. So what happened to you?”

“I didn’t realize the place was a piano bar but this guy…” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, remembering. “You would have been all over him. Long hair, gorgeous, and this yummy Irish accent. Anyway, I went to the ladies room, not that Nessa or Connor noticed.”

“Wait! What? He followed you to the bathroom? That’s like way creepy, Laney.”

“No, I wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.”

“He dragged you out?”

“No. I mean I came back to the dining room and the guy walked up to me. I didn’t move but I was suddenly in a barn, and I was watching this scene—like a movie—play out in front of me. There was a little girl hiding and some men hunting her, but then they ran off and another man came. He rescued me. Her. I mean her.”

Bronwyn’s gaze felt like laser beams boring into her. “What do you mean he rescued you, but it was her? You were the little girl?”

She lifted her head to stare out the window. People passed on the sidewalk. Cars and trucks trundled along on the street. Inside the restaurant, glasses clinked in counterpoint to the soft buzz of conversation. “Yes.” The admission fell into a silent void as the room fell into a hush. “And the man who saved me looked like he should have been one of your SCA buddies. He looked like a warrior, complete with a sword. He looked like he could have killed those two men if he’d caught them. But…” Her breath hitched as she remembered the tenderness in his touch, the compassion displayed by his expression when he retrieved the little girl from the pile of straw, holding her in his arms, safe.

Bronwyn snapped her fingers in front of Delaney’s face several times. “Yo, Laney. Yoohoo. Come back, girl.”

She blinked several times, shocked by the brightness. Her eyes refocused on the woman across the table. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, hon. Who was the guy? The warrior dude?”

Ah. Now that was the rub. Her heart knew what her brain couldn’t wrap around the facts. She said his name anyway. “Rory.” Shaking her head, she stared at Bronwyn. “But not. He didn’t look like he does now, and his name was Riordan, not Rory. But he felt the same. If that makes any sense?”

Bronwyn nodded, a sage expression on her face, as if she knew exactly what occurred but she made no comment. She took several sips of her drink, forked some salad into her mouth and chewed, all the while waiting for Delaney to continue.

“There was another time, too. Only Nessa, Keegan, Connor, and…” Her mouth gaped as she stared. “Oh my gosh, Bronwyn! You were there, too. I swear you were. We were like best friends.”

“Whoohoo! See? I knew we were destined to be best friends forever.” She giggled and waggled her fork in Delaney’s direction. “You realize that some people pay really big bucks for regression hypnosis so they can explore past lives. You? You walk out of the bathroom with an Irish hunk and get the experience of a lifetime. So not fair!”

Goosebumps pimpled Delaney’s arms and she smoothed them down with her palms. “That Irish hunk isn’t… There’s something weird about him, Bronnie. Like bad weird. He has this voice that is amazing. When he talks you can taste… Well, you know when we used to go the state fair when we were kids? And we’d share that huge glob of cotton candy? Remember how it feels melting on your tongue? That’s the way this guy’s voice sounds.”

Shivering, Bronwyn rubbed her own arms. “So…he’s the bad guy in all this?”

“I don’t know. I…I don’t trust him, I know that much.”

Bronwyn nodded, still wearing what Delaney called her Faire Face, the one she wore when reading Tarot cards and telling fortunes at the Renaissance Faire. “You want my opinion?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, d’uh. Why do you think I’ve been telling you about my bouts of insanity?”

“Nope. You aren’t insane. I really do believe in reincarnation, Delaney. No kidding around, okay? I mean, jeez. You, Keegan, and Nessa have some major issues and the way Connor and Nessa are acting—”

“Not to mention Keegan and Connor’s sister, Ciara.”

“Wait. What? You haven’t told me about this.”

Holding up one hand to slow down the tirade before it started, Delaney jumped in to finish. “At the engagement party, Keegan took one look at Ciara and it was love at first sight. What’s weird? She reacted the same way. She’s gorgeous, Bronnie. I mean like Miss Universe gorgeous. And she’s all gaga over Keegan? My scrawny, dorky brother? Really? I mean, either there’s drugs involved or something otherworldly. There has to be.”

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Bronwyn chewed over that bombshell like she chewed her food. Delaney forced food into her mouth but she didn’t taste it and after swallowing, each bite contributed to the lump sitting in the pit of her stomach. She finally put her fork down and squared her shoulders.

Bronwyn flashed a cheeky grin. “I know that look. You need chocolate. In dessert. Like a big ol’ piece of chocolate volcano cake. With ice cream. Trust me. It’ll make everything right again.”

When the waitress appeared, Bronnie cheerfully ordered the restaurant’s signature dessert and two spoons. Neither of them spoke again until the treat arrived. Even then, Delaney picked at her side while Bronnie attacked the cake with gusto. She licked her spoon and used it to point at Delaney.

“Here’s the deal. I think you are one lucky duck. You have the chance to get it right. I think you have met a man most women would kill to get. You, m’dear? You have this guy wrapped around your little finger. Nessa is safely out of the way, not that I’d give her a snowball’s chance to come between you and your cop, but she’d certainly try. So… Go out with Rory. Fall in love, get married, and have his babies. I think the two of you will be happy for the rest of your lives.” She dipped her spoon into the dessert, filling it with cake and ice cream and relished the bite for a long moment. She swallowed, leaned forward, and held Delaney’s gaze. “You know I’m always right about these things.”