I ran for me; I ran for Charley; I ran away from the Reaper and toward the lazy gate, praying that I beat the odds, just this once. I ran without breathing; there was no time left.
I ran—and then I leaped. Because now the gate hung directly over the abyss: to fall meant certain death, but I was dead anyway.
For one instant, nothing shook.
Nothing trembled.
Time stopped; the air wrapped me in peace. I was flying and floating; I had nothing left. Then I was falling, and when the heat hit, I laughed.
And then I blacked out cold.
CHAPTER
71
THAD
DAY 51, MORNING
Pressing the doorbell, I felt like I might burst; I’d been dying for this moment ever since I’d jumped into that gate like a man possessed. I’d woken up naked in Pakistan, finally made it home, and tracked down Charley with everything I had left.
My hands were shaking, so I set my backpack on the porch. I strained to hear footsteps over the rain.
There was no answer.
My heart sank, wondering if I’d screwed up the house number, knowing I hadn’t. But maybe she wasn’t home. Leaning close to the door, I called, “Charley?”
Two very long seconds passed, then the door flew open. Charley stood in the doorway, her dark hair tumbling around her face. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she looked as long and lean and gorgeous as ever, but her eyes were hollow, stealing my hello.
“Thad?” Charley’s face drained of color.
“Miss me?” I said, breaking into a grin.
Charley didn’t move. “You died. I stole your gate.” Her lower lip was raw, like she’d been biting it for weeks.
“Nope. That one was yours.” I grinned as Charley’s eyes narrowed. “Mine was next. Nil offered up a triple dip.”Because I finally gave up what I wanted most—you.My throat tightened. “And here I am.”
“You are insomuch trouble,” she said, throwing herself into my arms. It was the moment I’d been living for: Charley in my arms, here in this world, and for an instant, the reality was as unreal as Nil. “What took you so long?” Her voice shook.
“I stopped for cookies,” I whispered in her ear. “Chocolate chip. Sorry they’re not homemade.”
“I thought you’d died,” she said, hitting my collarbone with her fist. “That I’d lost you. I thought—” Her fist pressed hard against me, she broke off, her voice full of hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gently covering her fist with my hand. “I came as fast as I could.”
“Fifty-one days,” Charley murmured into my shoulder. But she didn’t move away. “Fifty-one days, Mr. Blake. Did you forget how to e-mail? Or use a phone?”
“My accommodations were a little sparse. No wi-fi and terrible guest services.”
“Hilarious.” She stiffened in my arms. “Fifty-one days, and all you can say is that you had bad guest services?”
“It’s true. I woke up naked in Pakistan, and they didn’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon.” Flashbacks of a time darker than Nil slammed into my head, making me shudder. “And yesterday I called, but your dad thought I was a reporter. He hung up on me.”
“Sorry,” she said, relaxing. “He’s a little protective these days.”
“I don’t blame him.” I held her close, still stunned that Nil had given me this moment. “Am I still in trouble?” I whispered.
“Tons.” Lifting one hand, she touched my cheek. Tentative, then exploring. “I can’t believe you’re alive,” Charley murmured. “That you’rehere.”
