Quantum Entanglement ~ Tamber

|Çħåpțëř 20|

Tara unplugged the stove and hid the hand sanitizer as soon as she got to Amber's house. When Amber shot her a questioning look, she only shrugged and said, "It's a fire hazard" in response. It wasn't entirely false, but it's not like she could reveal that Amber – in another reality – would eventually succumb to fire and the bullet her best friend delivered straight into her head.

Bang!

She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. She could avoid that now. Sure, she'd be forced to live with the memory forever, but she could lessen the impact by making things right now. She had to protect the people she loved – the most important of which was Amber.

When she had just a second to breathe, she slumped on to the couch she'd spent most of her entire life on. She had landed back on the couch when she was sent on this journey, and the memory of how far they'd come made her eyes sting. How could she explain to anyone that she'd started it all as a grieving girl, consumed with her own guilt so much so that she had buried whatever she felt for the girl someplace that no one could find it – especially not her. She wasn't sure if she still had the right to mourn for the girl who was trapped in hell, battling blazes she'd never quite know about. Maybe she wasn't the one who had put her there, but she sure as hell was the one who pulled the trigger.

Her biggest fear, though, was that somehow this would still blow up in her face. Maybe Richie would kill one or both of them. Maybe he'd kill Sam. Maybe it would have all been for absolutely nothing, and she'd either die or just wake up without Amber by her side. Either way, the thought was paralyzing. She considered stalling in the past to buy herself more time with the girl she loved; she just wasn't ready to face the possibility of another goodbye – not after all this.

Seeing that something was troubling her girlfriend, Amber sat down beside her and touched her forearm to get her attention.

"Everything okay, angel?" she asked softly. Her forehead was wrinkled in concern the way it always did whenever she was worried.

Tara turned to face her and raised her hand up to her cheek, her fingertips tracing over the same spot she'd touched the girl battling her way through hell not long ago. She swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to remember the feel of the charred skin.

She hadn't been able to look at Amber after shooting her, but it had nothing to do with how she looked. She would have loved the girl through any grievous bodily harm or disfigurement. Amber Freeman was beautiful to her and always would be. But glancing over and not seeing the rise and fall of her chest had destroyed her. Tara had done that; she'd shot the girl she loved, her best friend in the world. And maybe it was deserved – necessary, even. But it couldn't help the guilt that hollowed out her skin and bones and made her body its home. For a year, she thought she'd never get to count the seconds that passed between inhales and exhales again, her own version of keeping time. And time, she had learned, had slowed in that time to a near stop. She hadn't made progress; she'd stood still, holding on to the hope that if she didn't move on that maybe Amber would somehow find her and come back. And she did.

But what if it was all gone tomorrow?

Bang!

"I'm scared," she finally confessed.

Amber squeezed her forearm gently and looked her in the eyes. "You know I won't let anything happen to you, right? I'll keep you safe, always."

"It's not me that I'm worried about."

Amber seemed to mull over the words for a second. "Nothing's going to happen to me. You know that, right?"

But she didn't know that. She couldn't know it. Because there was still a very real possibility that this would end in disaster once again.