Exodus (The Ravenhood Duet Book 2)

by Kate Stewart

  “So, that’s why you were here that night?” The night I ran into the forest calling his brothers’ names. The same night he kissed me, sending me into a tailspin.

  He shakes his head ironically, his expression somber. “This was my place. I don’t know if fate plays a role in life, but I knew when I found it. Somehow, I knew this place was meant for me.”

  He plucks at a piece of grass next to him, before rubbing it between his fingers. “That’s why I wasn’t at all surprised when Roman started building his fortress only a few hundred yards away from where I was charting out my future and his.” I try and picture Tobias here as a young boy, newly orphaned and utterly alone in the woods staring up at the night sky. The image I conjure up tugs at every corner of my heart. To be so young, to have lost everything in a blink. It’s unimaginable.

  He sips his wine, his swallow audible.

  “I can still remember Papa putting a voice to his big dreams. His plans for us, the way he advocated for this place, willing us all to imagine along with him, in this new world, this new life he so believed in, that turned and robbed him of his every dream, of his life. So when I lost them, I pushed the world away. I trusted no one. I was so angry that I shut myself off completely. And the more I learned about the world he believed in, the people he blindly trusted, put his faith in, the angrier I got.” He watches me carefully. “My purpose began to change as the years passed. I made no room for anything else. And since, I’ve been doing exactly what I set out to do. Every plan I made here, I put into motion. Every decision I made here, I made happen.” He turns to me. “Yet somewhere along the way, I forgot to look around, look up, to focus anywhere but on my task. I got so determined to see my own plans through. I tainted this place. I shared it for the sole reason of carrying out my purpose. After a few years, it was no longer my sanctuary because my ambitions had turned it into a war zone. That’s why I like your view. You’re seeing it right now, the way I saw it for the first time.”

  He takes another healthy sip of wine as I absorb his words and decide to offer some of my own.

  “I believe in fate,” I declare, “I truly do. I felt it earlier today in that boardroom. I was at my most vulnerable as well when something clicked inside of me. It was like a voice I’ve never heard. And for a few seconds, I saw my future so clearly, so vividly. I don’t at all think it’s a coincidence that I came to Triple Falls, or that I’ve had the experiences I’ve had in the last year. It was like all of the hell I’ve gone through made sense specifically for that one moment.” I turn to him. “Not long ago, you asked me what I was going to do, and today I saw it.”

  He fixes his attention on the ground and nods before we collectively sip more wine.

  “You’re so young,” he looks over to me before pulling a piece of hair free from where it’s stuck on my lip. I open my mouth to object, but he presses a finger to it to silence me. “I don’t mean that in a condescending way. But when you live long enough, you won’t see things as absolute, the way you do now. You’ve got simple solutions for complicated problems. But the more you learn, the more jaded you’ll become. The more you’ll question your decisions, regret some of your choices. Just don’t let them change you. Don’t ever forget the way you felt in the boardroom today. No matter how much life you live.”

  “I won’t.”

  He bites his lip briefly before he speaks.

  “I don’t regret it you know, I really don’t. I helped Dominic with his homework. I got my first job at fourteen bagging groceries so he had a new bike on Christmas morning.” He lifts his knees and drapes his forearms on them. “I made it my mission to try and rear him like Papa would. To give him everything I could. I can still remember so clearly the day I taught him how to shave. I was honored when he asked me.” He smiles, really smiles. “He hadn’t hit his second growth spurt, so he was a full foot shorter than me.”

  “So, you were more of a father than a brother,” I conclude.

  “I wanted it,” he quickly adds. “I did. Beau was a good man. And I wanted to give Dominic as much of his father as I could. I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything. I just…”

  Guilt. I can feel it oozing from his frame, along with all that he’s not saying. He lost his own life raising his brother and setting his plans into motion. He doesn’t seem to know who he is without his purpose.

  And that’s when I know we’re both lost in a similar way.

  I’d pegged him as well as he had me.

  Because in that respect, we are a lot alike.

  It occurs to me that the night he broke me down, ripped my life apart so intimately, it wasn’t because he knew the details, it’s because he understood the sacrifice. We both have, and still are putting off our own lives to take care of the people we love. He’s just been doing it far longer than I have.

  “Dominic and Sean are the only two people I’ve ever fully trusted.” He runs his thick fingers through the grass. “It’s not their fault.” He shakes his head. “I get that. They didn’t know how much it would…”

  “Hurt,” I finish for him. “How much it would hurt you.”

  “But that’s not on them. It’s on me. I expected them to be just as dedicated on every level…I expected too much.”

  Never in a million years would I dream of seeing his side of things. Never did I want an explanation. Never did I want to see his black heart start to beat red. But it’s here I understand him, his logic, and even worse, I empathize.

  “You still trust them, Tobias. And you know you can.”

  “I do trust them—with my life. But I just…I was jealous.” He takes a sip of wine and glances at me. “I still am.”

  “Tobias, you can change it. Right now. You can make a decision—”

  I shift my gaze to his, but the look he’s returning has my tongue going dry, the words failing me. Swallowing, I tear my eyes away as I draw steadying breaths.

  “I have a place,” his tone is faint. “It’s near Saint-Jean-de-Luz. My biological father took me there when I was very young. It’s only a flash, an image of being there, being happy. That’s it—a blink. But I went back a few years after I graduated college, and I felt it. It’s the only other place on the planet I’ve felt as at peace as I have here. So, as soon as I could afford it, I bought a piece of paradise right on the water and began building. It was finished a year ago, and I haven’t set foot in it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t deserve it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No. It’s still a dream, and it’s untouched. It’s my finish line. I have to earn it to get there. I’m not done yet. But, if I’m being honest, I’m scared of going there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when this is over, I’m going to have to find a way to live with myself, with the things I’ve done. The things I’ll continue to do. Because this is my only plan.”

  He turns to me, his expression haunted. “But I dreamt it up here, all of it, right here where we’re sitting. Saint-Jean-de-Luz exists. And it’s there when I’m ready for it. And now I’m sharing my place with you, so,” he implores me with the sweep of his eyes, “what is it that you want?”

  “It may seem silly, but I want Paris.”

  “That’s too small, too easily attainable. Think bigger.”

  “I want to have a say.”

  He nods as if he understands. “Then you’ll have a say.”

  “I want my own kind of sanctuary.”

  “Then you’ll have it. Keep dreaming. Keep planning. Dream a thousand dreams and then make a thousand things happen.”

  He pulls the wine from my hand and sets his glass down next to it.

  “Poof.” I smile, the wine thrumming through my veins. “Just like that.”

  “No,” he pulls my hand onto his thigh and flips it over, sliding his palm along mine. Dizzied by his touch, my body springs to life as he strokes my hand lightly with the pads of his fingers. An inch of his thick hair sags across his f
orehead, and I itch to touch it when his brows pinch together. “After you dream, plan, that’s when the work begins. And that’s where it gets the most complicated, your plans can get convoluted, your dreams may get watered down and grow more distant, seem out of reach, and sometimes, sometimes you lose sight of what’s important and hurt the people who rely on you. Others might get hurt in the process.” Our eyes lock with his confession. “And when that happens,” he swallows, “it might make you question who you are and just how far you will go.”

  No matter how much I want to, I can’t look away.

  “Cecelia,” his voice dips and my name has never sounded so beautiful coming from a man’s lips. I sit mesmerized by all he’s revealed, unbelieving this is the man I met. “I’m sorry. Truly, for the things I’ve done to you. What happened to you today—”

  “It had nothing to do with you. And I don’t want to talk about it.” I still his hand, frustrated with what he’s beginning to stir within me. If I’m not careful, he’ll succeed in resurrecting my starving heart with his words, his touch. “And you’re making it seem like it’s already game over for you, when it’s not. You’re still young enough to change your plans. You have a lot of life left to live. You can still dream here. Hell, you could walk into that house in Saint-Jean-de-Luz tomorrow if you wanted to.”

  “No, I can’t.” He flips my hand over, separating my fingers before lifting them to his lush mouth and kissing them one by one. Sparks ignite and fire licks up my spine as the electricity between us begins to move. Thrumming with anticipation, his voice hypnotizes me as I watch him press each of my fingers to his soft lips. The sight of it sets me on fire. “You see, my plans, my decisions, have backed me into a corner. But in this place,” he lifts simmering eyes to mine and cups my face as if he’s holding the world in his hands. My instinct is to look away, to recognize the lie, to pinpoint the deceit. But I don’t, I can’t because I feel every word he’s saying to my core. “Here, there are no outsiders, no threats, no pasts, no one else. There’s nothing but us.” Choked by his honesty, by his openness, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip, his eyes dipping briefly before he brings them back to mine. And in them, I see him so clearly for the first time. “And because of you, I see this place again for what it truly is. It hasn’t lost any of its magic. I just forgot how to look for it.”

  Eyes locked, he bends, his lips so close, gaze imploring. And I can’t deny him, or myself because he’s speaking the truth. Since the day we met, we’ve been drawn to the other. Though we were born of anger, resentment, and betrayal, it’s been there. And through the fog of all of it, we were familiar.

  “I know you, Cecelia, because you know me, and it’s here, in this place that we recognized we’ve known each other all along.”

  He presses a feather-light kiss to my lips, sliding his hands back to cup my head before opening me with decadent pressure. Savoring the wine off his tongue, I whimper into his mouth as he takes his time, exploring, licking, relishing. Effortlessly, he lifts me to wrap around him, his mouth drawing on mine, robbing, consuming, the gravity holding us firmly in place as I kiss him back without reservation. When he pulls away, I can see nothing but satisfaction in his eyes. He might have recognized it first, but the reflection I see is undeniable.

  I see you, Cecelia, you keep trying to give yourself, your heart, your allegiance away to anyone who will have it for reasons you can’t understand, but it’s so painfully clear.

  Clear to him, because he’s been living in the same sort of self-imposed exile, but instead of offering his heart up, he’s locked it safely away. Breaths mingling, chests heaving, we face off as understanding passes between us.

  “What is it that you want, Tobias?”

  He pins me beneath him, pressing my wrists to the grass, his hair tickling my chin as he gazes down at me. “A selfish moment,” he whispers softly before he captures my mouth, drawing me into the most damning and selfish of kisses.

  I wake long before the sun, fully clothed and wrapped in an inferno. Tobias sleeps silently next to me, his arms wrapped around me protectively, his chin burrowed into my neck. I slept through the night, buzzed on wine, in the safety of his arms once we’d wordlessly returned to the house. He didn’t undress me. Instead, he turned off the light and pulled me into him.

  And it’s in the same position that I manage to untangle us without waking him before I take a long shower, putting on my favorite stark white sundress that looks more like something from the Edwardian era. Layers of silky white material tickle my calves while the bodice hugs my curves, the inch-thick straps lay loosely off my shoulders. I grab my favorite hardback and head toward the garden, nabbing a thin blanket to ward off the morning chill. Nestled in the queen lounger beneath a trellis covered in wisteria, I watch the show, the sun rising on a different world I’m now a citizen of, my thoughts drifting to the man who lays comatose in my bed.

  Under the haze of a new day’s sun, I lose myself and spend hours reading while soaking in the world around me.

  Fresh blooms warm a few feet away, scenting the air as I flip the pages of The Thorn Birds. It’s my favorite book, or at least it was when I was younger. It was the first hit to my addict’s heart, and therefore the strongest. I stole it from the library the last summer I spent with my father and never returned it. It’s the story of Ralph, a priest, and his Meggie, a little girl who was groomed by and grew up to fall in love with him. But their love was impossible. When she was young, he told her of a bird who leaves the nest searching for the sharpest thorn to impale itself on so it could sing the sweetest song as it dies, living solely for the purpose of finding that thorn so it could sing, just once, in its lifetime.

  But his story to her at such a young age was a preemptive strike if not predictive, and her heart didn’t listen. Meggie describes her love, her devotion to Ralph was like crying for the moon. Because it’s impossible to capture, impossible to keep.

  Meggie could never have Ralph in the way she wanted, and he could never give up his life’s purpose for her. Therefore, Ralph was also Meggie’s thorn, and she spent her life searching for the time to impale herself upon him just for the chance to sing. And then it happens, they have that sinful and secular moment where the world stops, times ceases, and love wins.

  I always stop reading when they’re together, because I know the ending, and I’m happiest in the midst of their song. I savor it.

  Partly through the novel, I stand and walk on the soft green carpet beneath my feet, admiring nature’s handiwork. Endless rows of rose bushes line the center of the garden, and I stop every few steps to run my fingers along the delicate petals and breathe them in. It’s like a dream, the breeze, the smells, the pink haze of early morning, and I’m fully intoxicated. For a moment, I pity Roman. I’m positive he’s never spent a minute out here simply enjoying his life. He could, at any time, make a decision to enjoy the fruits of his labor, to appreciate the palace he haunts, but lives his life too engrossed in harsh reality. Numbers and power rule him. And I’m convinced his is a miserable existence.

  I don’t want that for myself. Not ever.

  And one day, I’ll need to forgive him. I’ll have to forgive him, for myself. But this morning, the pain is starting to gnaw at me, and I can still feel the humiliation, the arrow precision sting of his rejection—the unexpected balm to my pierced heart sleeping in the bedroom above me.

  The last twenty-four hours with Tobias have been surreal, and I’m way too terrified to trust a single memory. I run a finger over my lips thinking of the way he kissed me, held me, like I was precious, like my every thought mattered. Palming my face, I try to push those thoughts away, and I can’t help but recall our conversation.

  “Dream a thousand dreams.”

  In the last year, I’ve learned a different way to live, and I don’t think I’ve ever embraced it the way I can now.

  With my epiphany yesterday, I know my future consists of big moves and big decisions. I want the experience of it all. O
therwise, what’s the point?

  A peace washes over me as I remember the future I’d mapped for myself in that boardroom. A decision to live, in the now, even knowing what I know. Risk and reward. No regrets. I’ve decided on my part to play.

  I’m strolling along the hedges admiring the walls of honeysuckle draping them when I sense him. I look up to find him standing in the corner of the courtyard, staring at me.

  “Hi.”

  He stands silent. His undershirt wrinkled, the material clinging to him like a second skin stretching over his chest, outlining his powerful frame when he stretches. Black boxers accentuate his insanely cut, muscular thighs. He’s completely disheveled. A far cry from the stylish terrorist I’ve come to expect darkening my door. And as messy as he looks, he’s more agonizing to gaze upon. We’d stolen a moment last night. A moment to be selfish, to give in to what we both wanted, and it wasn’t purely physical. It was a long drink for two thirsty people. And we’d savored every drop, but we’re skirting disaster now. Still, I can feel it, the gravity, the ache, the need building for him, and he’s only feet away.

  I run my hands along more of the delicate blooms. “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”

  More silence, and it’s unbearable. My heart gallops as the air around me stills. Tension coiling, I can feel his gaze on me, my neck pebbling with the weight of it. I can’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. Because if I do, he’ll know.

  “Hard to believe such a bad guy owns such an extraordinary place.” I can hear the sadness in my voice. I was honest with Tobias that night he questioned me. In my time here, I’ve experienced a slow snap. From the time my dad confessed he couldn’t love me to the time we spent yesterday in his boardroom, it’s felt like one drawn-out and agonizing blow. Though it’s been hard to admit it, I came here with a hope that’s now obliterated. My father and I are beyond repair.