Page 49 of When I Found You

“Goodbye, Arthur.” She tries to push past me and grab the door handle, but I block her. “Move.”

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” I wrap my hand around her wrist and tug her away from the door, but she bristles at the touch.

“Let me go.” The low growl of her voice sets off warning bells in my head.

“Not until we get to the bottom of this.” My grip tightens, and I pull her against me.

Without hesitation, she jabs her elbow into my side with her weight, stomps on my foot, slams the back of her fist into my nose, and drives her elbow into my groin.

Pain radiates through me. I double over in agony and stumble forward, blood dripping from my nose onto the carpet.

By the time I regain some of my senses, I realize Kate’s gone. Gingerly, I hobble into the bedroom, glaring at the phone on the other side of the apartment. I should call the guard on the ground floor, but what would that accomplish? If she’s willing to injure me to this degree for her freedom, then I have to let her go.

Warmth coats my face. Shit. I’m bleeding everywhere. I stumble into the bathroom and run the water, washing my face in the sink and blotting the mess smeared across me with white towels. Fuck, my bathroom is a murder scene.

The ache in my side and foot dissipates long before the throbbing where her elbow connected with my balls. It takes much longer to stem the waterfall of blood coming from my nose. It’s already turning purple. Great. I gently press the side of my nose, and there’s a screaming pain. Yup, it’s broken.

Looks like I’ll be paying Rob a visit at the ER. As I pull on some old clothes, I worry about Kate. Obviously, she’s lost, but what if she’s telling the truth?

This is crazy. Time travel isn’t real. There’s no way in hell. It’s science fiction, not reality.

But the more I think about it, I can’t shake the feeling there’s a piece of this puzzle missing. Maybe I should give her time and space. Kate may not be dangerous to anyone but herself at this point. Except my well-ordered life.

First, I need to deal with the broken nose she left me along with a broken heart.

Chapter Twenty-One

Katherine

Guilt and anger twist in the pit of my stomach gnawing away at my insides leaving a dark void of regret. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. It’s a lot of information, and even though it conflicts with his perception of reality, it doesn’t negate the truth.

I don’t belong here. And by extension, I don’t belong with him.

Assaulting him when he blocked the door may have been a stretch, but I knew he would never let me go of his own volition. Not since he truly thinks I’m a mental case. No, I had to get out of there before he locked me up in the psych ward. Mimicking Gracie Lou Freebush and her dramatic display of self-defense, I gave myself the window I needed. Oh God, I probably broke his nose. He’ll definitely be sporting a pair of black eyes and some bruises in the morning.

If Arthur thought I was crazy before, he certainly will now.

When I reach the ground floor, I half expect the doorman to stop me or have security throw up barricades hindering my escape. But I walk out the doors without any issue. The attendant even holds the door open and wishes me a good evening.

The cold evening air stings my cheeks. I walk along the street tugging the wool collar higher to block the wind from my face.

My act of instinctive defiance ensures several things. I have no job, no home, and no belongings. I did manage to grab the cash he gave me for my first payday. But a hundred bucks isn’t going to get me far.

I find the first subway station and stare at the signs. I should try to find a shelter for the night, at least then I won’t be sleeping under the bridge down by the river. But instead, I take the line to the Upper West Side.

The address is a fixed point in my memory. I don’t remember the details, but Mom told me stories about their first place on 73rd.

After a quick ride, I emerge from underground and integrate myself into the bustling Saturday night pedestrian traffic. Normally I enjoyed the anonymity of walking the city without anyone noticing my presence, but tonight it leaves me anxious and lonely.

My feet take me down the sidewalks and around the corners past shops and restaurants. I admire the hustle of the city. Some of these things will still be here years from now. Some won’t, and that’s the part twisting a hole in my sanity.

Obviously, there’s no way for me to get back to 2020. I don’t have much keeping me there, but here in 1985, I’m an outsider with too much knowledge. It would be simple to use it to my advantage and manipulate the future ensuring my success.

I’m no expert on quantum mechanics and the physics of space and time, but I know doing so would be playing with fire. Fear seizes me. What if I’ve already ruined something by telling Arthur? Does it matter? He doesn’t believe me anyway.

I thought he did. Then I saw the cognitive dissidence jerk him right back into denial. Tears appear again, and I blink them away. No. No more tears. I can’t change him. I can’t make him understand. I can’t control anything but my own actions and how I respond.

In one of the last conversations I had with Mom, she imparted these words of wisdom. She admitted it took her years to realize their truth, but when she applied it to her life, it made things more manageable.

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