Page 58 of Destiny Reclaimed
Chapter Sixteen
Jack turned the signon the door to the ‘Closed’ side and flipped the bolt. Thank God it was closing time. He doubted he could muster one more smile or greeting to a customer. This had to be the longest and most depressing day of his life, counting those he’d spent in Vietnam. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how he would face another day knowing his weekly visits with Gwennie and Blake had come to an end.
He flipped off the lights and wandered on his sluggish feet through the dim kitchen accessories aisle to the back of the store. If not for the street lights peeking through the front plate-glass windows the shop would be completely black. Pressing the palm of his hand to the door leading to the storeroom, he gave a slight push and stepped through into an even darker room.
“Jack.”
He flinched and threw his hand over his chest, snapping his head in the direction in which the voice had rung out. He steadied his stance, firming it up in a defensive manner. “Who’s there?”
“A friend, Gabriela. No need to worry.”
As his eyes adjusted, a small framed figure came into focus. “Don’t move!” he ordered, keeping his gaze drilled into the lady as he took a few sidesteps and outstretched his arm to flip on the storeroom lights.
Less than five feet away, almost an arm’s reach, stood a woman who couldn’t be more than five and a half feet tall. Long blonde hair framed her pale face. The slightest of crows-feet shone on the corners of her ocean-blue eyes and made him think her middle aged. Her gaze held warmth and familiarity, but he couldn’t completely place her. Still, his tense muscles relaxed.
“How did you get in here?”
She lifted her thin arm and pointed to the door.
He obviously didn’t see her enter the store, and effective immediately he was going to start locking the storeroom door.
“Do I know you?” he asked, not recalling he’d ever met a lady named Gabriela.
“Sort of, I think.”
What kind of answer was that? “Sort of?”
“I think so. Something isn’t right, and I’m trying to figure it out. It’s going to be hard to explain and believe.”
The more she spoke, the more he was convinced he’d heard her voice before. Color him curious, he needed to know what this woman had to say.
“Is there a place we can sit and talk? This could take some time. Maybe upstairs in your apartment.”
A tinge of unease snaked up his spine. How did she know he lived above the store? Had she been watching him?
“It took me a while to find you. I had to ask around,” she replied, answering his unasked question.
He contemplated her request, and the overwhelming familiarity of her outweighed the disconcerting way she’d chosen to approach him. He motioned for her to follow him up the stairs. When they entered his tiny apartment, he gestured toward one of the two unmatching chairs positioned at the kitchen table.
She sat, rested her forearms on the tabletop, and clasped her hands together.
He took the other seat, swiped his sweaty palms over his pant leg, and studied her from across the table, trying to place from where he knew her.
“I’m not sure where to start. I only ask that you please hear me out no matter how crazy this sounds to you. Can you do that?” she asked.
The seriousness in her gaze caused him to nod.
“Do you believe in time travel?”
