1922
Thomas woke up in a cold sweat. Heart rate drilling a hole in his chest.
Just when he thought he'd seen the end of the nightmares they resurface...
The house, invaded on Christmas Eve. He and his cousins ran, hiding as strangers enter, Tommy-guns blazing! His mother, Alessia, managed to hide him away. "Run, Tomasso!"
"Momma-!"
The smell of smoke followed the strangers through the house.
Gunfire and screams.
"Mama!"
"GO!"
"Alessia Maggio." Tomasso heard the stranger's voice...
He should've ran, but he couldn't.
His mother's screams. "Get away from me!"
"Mama!" He had to save her!
"Tommy!" His older cousin had stopped him. "We need to go!"
"No! I need to save my mama!" He looked again... the image would forever be seared into his memory: Her body, lifeless. An orange glow filled the room. And the man, his ugly mug, he'd never forget, running to escape the fire.
Thomas shuddered.
A slender hand slid across his bare chest. "What's the fuss, Tommy?" the slight figure sat up. Brown bob a tousled mess.
"Nu'in', just a dream, I'm jake. I should probably blow." he moved to get out of bed. Her hand on his chest.
"This is your joint, remember?" That inviting smile.
"Then shouldn't you be getting home?" he reached across for her, planting his lips on her neck. Free hand sliding around her waist.
"Mm. Now, why would I wanna do that, when I can spend the rest of this gorgeous morning with you?"
"I don't know that it'll be good for the sub to be late."
She sighs dramatically, "Spoilsport." Reluctant to give up her play time, she climbed out of the bed. Rushing to dress.
Thomas watched her scramble around with her nylon stockings. "Shouldn't you be getting ready too?" she slipped her shoes on.
"I got time."
"Don't be late." she fixed her hair. Slipped on her coat.
"One of us has to be."
"Swell." Seductive smile. "Last night was fun, Mr. Graft."
"And how. Be seeing you, Mrs. Smith."
"Ooo. You scamp." she purred, giving one last kiss and hurried out the door.
~•~
Thomas made his way downstairs after getting ready.
"Thomas H. Graft." Ma Fran walked out the kitchen, hands on her hips. Giving that look. He followed her back into the kitchen.
He smiled sheepish, "You look good this morning, Ma."
"I don't need your flattery, boy. Do you mind explaining what Mrs. Smith, your teacher, was doing running out of your room this morning?"
"She's a substitute teacher. And how do you know she didn't run out of old man Edgar's room?"
That angry, motherly look.
"I'm 17, Ma. I ain't no little boy anymore."
"Mrs. Smith is not only a married woman, she is older than you—,"
YOU ARE READING
Through Time Again
Science Fiction((SEQUEL to Through Time She Came)) "Our family was always important to the Maggios, Anet. In your timeline, we had managed to stay well-hidden. Something changed and brought us back out into the game." 2010 is not how she left it. The Maggio and th...
