Page 12 of In Another Lifetime

“Don’t,” I moaned.

“I’m just saying…”

“The same thing as usual. I don’t know what happened just now, and I’m…sorry. It’s never happened before, and…” I wanted to say that being at the club wouldn’t change things, but had I not been here, I never would have been triggered by Dayton’s visitor.

“I just want you safe,” Kale insisted. “You’re too far away when I’m at the club. Maybe, I should…move in with you?”

“Kale, you can’t move in with me. You have your life at the club…with the guys and what you all do. Things I don’t want to know about. They need you there. I have my life here. We might be twins, but we’re not conjoined.” I ended on a tease to soften my refusal.

“I just want you to be safe,” he repeated.

I just wanted that, too, but I needed to reconnect with Dayton more. I knew being with him might put me in the sights of the murderer again, but I stayed on this plane of existence for Dayton, for what we had together, for our soul connection. If I kept hiding, what was the point?

Nine

Vale

Fighting an emotional hangover from the night before, I hummed a happy tune to myself while I mixed the pasta salad for the barbeque. Outside the lawnmower rumbled in my backyard, loud through the open windows and almost drowning me out. I hadn’t realized Brennan was coming over to do the yardwork until he’d shown up and started mowing and trimming. He’d told me he did the work on the weekends, but I’d forgotten.

My gaze scanned the perimeter of the yard, looking for anything or anyone out of place before I returned my attention to my brother-in-law—or perhaps that would be former in-law. I didn’t know. I was living the split-life reality and the logistics of the whole thing still confused me.

Unaware of me, Brennan bobbed his head to whatever tune played through his AirPods. Though his hair was blond where Day’s was dark, he looked much like his brother had when we were in high school. Ironically, Dayton had done my parents’ yardwork back then, so I was getting some severe deja vu.

Turning away, so he didn’t think I was some weird middle-aged lady staring at him, which was surely how he’d see me since I was a good dozen years older than him, just like his brother. With a small smile, I returned to my preparation, thinking of Dayton and anticipating seeing him that night.

I’d finished the pasta salad, cut the fruit for the fruit bowl and had stowed them both in the refrigerator when a knock came at the front door. The hum of the mower had stopped, but I’d been lost in thought about Dayton and hadn’t realized that Brennan had finished working.

After wiping my hands on the kitchen towel, I jogged through the house to the front door. My gaze flitted around, checking the area outside, before settling on the younger man.

“Hey,” I said. “All finished? Give me a second and I’ll get cash for you?”

“No, wait,” he blurted, reaching out to grasp my arm when I started to turn away. His eyes seemed to look inside me again, the same as they had a few days ago. “I wanted to say thanks for the cookies. They were really great. They’re my favorite kind.”

I knew that but didn’t say so.

“I think they melted Day’s brain, though. Shocked him. He didn’t know what to think.”

“Because I can bake?” I asked cautiously.

Staring into my eyes, he slowly shook his head. “But you know those are my favorite.”

“I… Why do you say that?” I asked, in a strangled whisper.

His certainty didn’t falter. With a small smile, he moved to sit on my front step and patted the place beside him. Slowly, I moved outside, scanning the area again, then sank onto the cement stoop.

“When I was little,” he said, his gaze on the yard and giving me a reprieve from his probing stare, “I saw things grownups didn’t see.”

“Lots of children do until they grow out of it.”

“Yeah. Thing is…I didn’t. I pretended to after I heard my mom and dad talking about taking me to a shrink. But I didn’t.” He licked his lips, looking down. “I still see things.”

“Oh…” I smoothed my suddenly damp hands down my denim-covered thighs, trepidation rattling me. I’d wanted this. It was the whole point of moving here. But I’d wanted Dayton to know—and believe me— first. Could this be…true? Maybe, I was making too much of what Brennan was saying.

“And, um, what do you see?” I asked.

His fingers tapped on the vertical rise of the step under him, and he stared out over the neighborhood then focused on his house, where we all used to live.

“Maybe, you’d call it auras. People’s spirits. Other things most others don’t or can’t perceive. I don’t see dead people—at least, I didn’t think so until… I…” His lips twisted as he worked out his words. “I know who you are.”

---