Flash time!

Prompt: The bad boy you just can’t forget

The pain slowly receded. She still couldn’t move. Couldn’t function. Could barely even think.

A bomb. A madman. Two victims grappling with a decision.

Blinking once, then twice, her bedroom came into focus. Wiggling her fingers, the pain dwindled down to nothing. Sitting up, holding a hand to her head, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand.

10:03 AM


She went to bed, as she normally did, at ten o’clock last night. Her alarm was set for 7:30 AM, the same time she woke up every day. Her vision was so bad, one of the worst, it took her a moment to realize her alarm was still beeping. Swiping it silent, she clutched her phone as the vision played over again in her mind.


She hadn’t thought of him in years. Now he was in one of her visions. The strangest part, it felt as if they were the victims. It wasn’t true, of course. The victims were Todd and Liana. Happily married with no kids. They just purchased a new house, slowly fixing it up and saving money for a honeymoon they hadn’t taken yet.

She never had a vision with herself as one of the victims. Sure, she felt the pain as if it was her own. She hated that part. It always knocked her out at least ten minutes. This time it knocked her out for hours. That never happened before. That’s what scared her the most. What did it mean? Could she prevent this from happening?

Liana’s pain had been immense. She felt the bullet hit. The jerking of her body as she fell to the ground. She also felt the explosion. The heat. The flames.

It was all so confusing.

The bomber said if Todd killed her, he’d disarm the bomb. Todd definitely pulled the trigger. The bomb went off.

Maybe Todd shot her in the chest, triggering the bomb. Maybe the bomber lied. Maybe Todd was a second too late.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t see that part clearly. Or maybe she had. Things were still a bit fuzzy.

Standing slowly, just in case her body hadn’t recovered as well as she thought, she debated what to do first.

Take a shower and grab a cup of coffee?

Or call Bo?

She really wanted to take a shower, wash all the horror away. Not that it ever diminished, but she liked to pretend it worked.

Bo needed to know. He needed to know what was going to happen today. Stop it. Prevent it. If he would even talk to her, that is.

Three long years. In all that time, she never thought of him. She couldn’t. It hurt every time she did. He had been the one for her. The minute he shook her hand and introduced himself as Detective Bo Chapman, her heart was his. That never happened to her before. Fighting the attraction at first took all her strength, especially since he didn’t believe in psychics. He had looked at her with distrust until a vision of a missing four year old girl hit her. She found the little girl before the sicko that kidnapped her had killed her. From there, everything changed between them. She let her resistance crumble. It turned into a whirlwind romance. Or more like great sex—on his part at least. Every time she gave herself to him, she had given her all. Everything she had. Then, just like that, he tossed her aside as if she meant nothing.

She should’ve known he would never last in her life. He had that bad boy, player persona written all over him from the moment they met. None of it mattered. As soon as he warmed up to her, he had turned all his charms on her. She sank immediately, letting him take her away into the deep abyss. Honestly, she still hadn’t resurfaced.

The bad boy you just can’t forget.

But she did. She wiped him clear from her memory the same day they parted ways. She never thought of him once.

Until last night. When he appeared in her vision.

Why did that happen? Why would she see the victims as her and Bo when it wasn’t true? What did it mean?

Nothing good, that’s for sure.

Settling for at least one of the two things she really wanted, she waited for the coffee to finish, her fingers fiddling with her phone.

Just call him.

What would he say? Would he even listen to her? Would he just hang up?

Their parting didn’t go well. No screaming took part, but the tension had been thick, the anger, the hurt mixed in.

Maybe it was all on her side. Now that she thought about it, nothing but indifference showed on his part. He never loved her like she loved him. That was the problem from the beginning. She loved him with everything she had, and she was nothing more than a warm body.

Her hand shook as the phone rang in her ear.


His voice was soft and sultry, just as she remembered. The question in his tone almost had her hanging up. He didn’t remember her.

“Who is this?”

Oh, right. She didn’t identify herself yet.

“Hi, Bo. It’s—”

“Isabella…” His voice cracked. “What do you want?”

You. “I had a vision. It was a bad one.”

She heard a soft sigh, the sound slapping her in the face. He didn’t want to hear about her vision. He didn’t want to hear from her at all. Well, too bad. She couldn’t let innocent people die.

“How bad?”

“Bad enough to make me call you.” Regret sucked the life out of her as soon as those words slipped out.

“I’m at the precinct.” Still nothing but indifference. Then, nothing but silence.

He hung up on her. At least she knew how this was going to play out. He was still calling all the shots. And she was letting him.


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