Time Between Us by Tamara Ireland Stone Page B

or his heavy breath in my ear. “Move!”
    I feel a wave of nausea pass through me.
    I figure that’s why I’m seeing things.
    I narrow my eyes so I can focus on the movement near the bookshelves. I’m somehow certain I saw it, even though I know it’s impossible. The store was empty, the door locked.
    I squint over the tops of the bookshelves and see a dark patch of hair moving toward the aisle. I jerk my head up to get a better view, but stop when I feel the cold blade tight against my throat. When we reach the back room, the man removes the knife from my neck and shoves me inside, and I land hard on the floor in front of the safe.
    “Open it,” he orders. I spin the dial—right, left, right—and pull down on the heavy handle. The door opens wide, and he pushes me away.
    That’s when I see the movement again, slowly emerging from the shadows at an angle where only I can see him, and I watch, stunned, as Bennett puts his finger to his lips. There’s no way the two of us could ever overpower a man with a blade and a fierce sense of desperation, but my first feeling even so is one of relief.
    He moves out of my direct line of vision but I can see him from the corner of my eye, creeping with careful steps toward me. I stay silent and still.
    And while the thief is distracted by the contents of the safe, three things happen, so fast and overlapping that they seem to take place simultaneously. Bennett disappears completely, and suddenly he’s kneeling next to me on the floor. He grabs my hands and closes his eyes, and I must follow suit, because when I open them, the store is gone. The robber and his knife are gone. And Bennett and I are in the exact same positions—him kneeling, me sitting, still holding each other’s hands—only now we’re next to a tree in the park around the corner, the wind throwing snow violently around us.

Bennett releases my hands and holds my face instead, and I hear him say the words, but it’s like he’s far away, muffled. “You’re okay, Anna. Breathe and don’t talk. Just listen carefully and do what I say. I’ll explain everything, but right now I need you to listen to me.”
    I nod, wide-eyed and blank.
    “First, I need you to run to the coffeehouse. Order me an espresso and two big glasses of tap water without ice, and sit down and wait for me.” He looks into my eyes. “You can do this, Anna. I need you. Can you trust me?”
    I nod again.
    “Okay, run. Don’t talk to anyone, just order the coffee and water and sit down.”
    I turn and run to the coffeehouse.
    I’m trembling so hard I can barely get the words out, but the barista is kind and offers to carry my drinks to a table for me. I lead him to the couch by the window and collapse.
    The sirens grow louder and louder until two police cars skid to a stop in front of the bookstore. I can’t make out much from this angle, but I see their headlights shining on the building, and I watch the cops draw their guns and creep toward the entrance. They quickly disappear from view, and I press my forehead to the glass to try to see what’s going on. I’m waiting for them to reappear when I feel a weight next to me.
    Bennett falls forward, his elbows on his knees, his fingertips gripping each side of his head. He lets out a small groan between heavy, labored breaths, just like the night in the park.
    Without even letting myself question it this time, I begin rubbing his back. “What can I do?”
    “Water…”
    I leave one hand on his back and give him the water glass with the other. He lifts his head and empties it in three giant gulps. “More…”
    After the second glass, his breathing becomes more regular.
    He looks up at me and smiles. “Hey, you’re still here.” He reaches for the shot of espresso and throws the hot liquid down his throat. I stare at him. I want to say something, but I can’t, because every time I take a small breath, my own body seems to shoot it right back out. I try a deep inhalation, the