Back to the fountain.
Troy spoke, his deep voice startling me. “We’re going to the fountain, and we’re going to make an exchange.”
He pointed the gun at me, and I moaned in fear, shaking my head.
“What?” I begged, glancing helplessly at West
Troy passed another car at breakneck speed, and West tightened his hold on me. “West is going to escort young Violet back to 2012. And Roam, we’re going to stay and have some fun.”
I gripped West’s hand, my mouth going dry.
He is going to make him choose.
Me… or his own daughter.
I couldn’t stop the horrible thoughts that tormented my mind.
He said that he loved me, but he had loved his infant daughter, too. If he left me to Troy, I was surely dead…
Or worse.
“Why in the fuck would I do that? You kill her, and the world ends,” West managed between clenched teeth.
Troy shook his head impatiently. “I’ve been chasing you all over this world for centuries, and you still don’t know a fucking thing,” he scoffed, jabbing the gun into the air to punctuate his words. “One world ends. The world that you know. The world that I know, my world, prevails. The world where I am king again, and the two of you are nothing.”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted, my words shaking as I pressed my hand to my hardened stomach. I was terrified, but I couldn’t resist needing to understand what he was saying. “There are two worlds, and in one you’re a king?” I tried in panicky, hysterical laughter. West tried to silence me with a glare, but I had already gone over the edge. I refused to be held at the mercy of this man any longer.
“Are you fucking laughing at me, you little bitch?” he snarled, and Violet whimpered as he shoved the gun into her thigh.
“Roam,” West bit threateningly, his tone meant to silence me.
“You can’t possibly be a king,” I breathed, meeting his steely gaze as he pulled his eyes away from the road. “You are pathetic.”
The darkness in his eyes nearly made me scream.
The forest in France, the horrible dungeon, nothing compared to the vengeful thirst that reflected in the way that he looked at me.
“I can’t wait to get you alone.”
Oh, God, his words forced bile to my throat. West seethed, and Troy swung his eyes back to the road and swerved. I flew against the window, banging my head against the glass.
“You’ll never get the fucking chance,”’ West snarled.
“West won’t let you hurt me,” I cried, wincing at my helpless words. I gripped my head, trying to keep from vomiting in the backseat. “Why would he just hand me over to you?
“Because Laurel is alive.”
The silence in the car was sliced by Violet’s startled cry.
I opened my mouth, unable to form words.
“My mom?” she whispered tearfully.
Troy shoved the gun harder into her thigh. “Where are your confident words now, Roam?”
“Where is she?” West demanded, his fists curling against the seat.
“She’s is in my world. There are doors to my world, too. Just like your fucking fountains to the past.”
West exhaled slowly, and I could see his mind turning. “There was no body,” he hissed, the rage in his voice uncontrolled. “You took her.”
“You fucked her and left her. And when you did, you left behind something very valuable,” he added, glancing at Violet.
“She’s alive?” West demanded. We were in the city again, and the park was within view. The streetlights snapped on in the darkness.
Troy nodded, swinging into the intersection. “She’s alive. You could all three be together again, one happy fucking family,” he clipped, slamming on the brakes along the curb and aiming the gun at Violet. “Move, curly. To the fountain.”
She fumbled with the door handle, managing to throw him a scathing look of hatred before stepping out of the vehicle. Something in her defiant glare reminded me so much of West.
Of her father.
Troy stepped next to my door, and I moaned, turning to press my face into West’s chest. West wrapped his arm around me and pulled me from the car, helping me walk to the fountain as my legs trembled beneath me.
The park was empty, and the sky opened to a cold, constant rain. The temperature had dropped several degrees, and that, combined with the light mist, reduced me to compulsive tremors.
“Two worlds?” I whispered to West. He only tightened his grip on me, and I nearly broke into tears as his hand slid over my waist.
“The edge,” Troy thundered, aiming the gun at Violet. “By the fountain. Move.”
I brushed at my scalding tears with the back of my hand. “West? When I die here, will I die… in the future?”
“You’re not going to die,” West told me, and I covered my mouth at his tone. He had gentled his voice, and I thought of our dance in the cottage, unable to stop as the tears took over.
Troy heard him, stopping at the base of the fountain and stepping behind Violet.
He shoved the gun into her side.
“West, it’s up to you. Who’s going to die? Your beautiful blond daughter… or this pain in the ass that you’ve been dragging through history?” With that, he cocked the gun and pushed Violet to her knees, execution style.
He pressed the gun to the back of her head, and she cried out, pleading.
West took a step toward her, and I screamed at him, adrenaline flooding my veins. “No! West, no, please, just take her back. It’s over. There’s nothing we can do, just save her,” I cried, my sobbing echoing Violet’s. “This isn’t her fault. She has nothing to do with this.”
West looked at Violet, and then back at me.
Raw pain flooded his expression, and his jaw tightened.
His eyes flashed a blue, watery silver like the moonlight on the ocean.
West turned to Troy. “I need… to say goodbye to her,” he said finally.
Troy cocked the gun, and Violet moaned. “Do it fast.”
In the second that it took him to turn fully toward me, I exhaled an agonized cry, my heart plummeting. He tried to gather me into his arms, but I fought him, ready to run.
I was on my own, pregnant, in some stranger’s body and in some foreign time.
West was leaving me to my killer’s mercy, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I’d take my last breath.
He refused to let me go, gripping my right forearm in his hand. “Roam.” His commanding voice forced me to lift my eyes to his, and I coughed, really breaking down.
“Go, please, just go,” I begged disjointedly, beating against his chest with my free hand. “Let me run.”
He pulled on my arm, his thumb bruising against my skin. “Remember what I told you. I love you. Everything I did is for you,” he managed, his voice filled with heartache.
“I love you, West,” I hushed, survival instincts surfacing. “I need to run, please let me go,” I begged, my words barely intelligible.
He smoothed his thumb over the numbers, the same pattern of numbers that lined his own arm.
“They shouldn’t match,” he hissed, holding my petrified gaze.
I tried to process his words.
What was he saying to me?
His numbers located me, and my numbers were still the coordinates for Russia.
My numbers…
“Know where your enemies are,” West told me, shooting a purposeful glance at the fountain.
My enemies.
My numbers locate Logan.
My numbers had never changed.
Logan left the hotel, but he never left Russia.
I comprehended the information in the seconds that he held my face and pressed his lips to mine.
He whispered against my mouth. “Back up to the fountain, baby.”
I nodded against his lips, inching backwards.
He broke away from me, turning to Troy and Violet. “Now give her to me,�
� West demanded, gesturing toward Violet.
Troy’s eyes met mine. I could feel him reach into my soul and take every ounce of bravery that I had left, crumbling my courage with one single word.
“Mine.”
Troy picked Violet up off the ground by her arm, throwing her like a rag doll at West.
At that moment, a man appeared out of the darkness, his arms encircling me. I knew, in my heart, that it was Logan.
West pushed Violet at both of us, and Logan caught her.
Troy lunged for me, but West was already on him. West’s first blow was to Troy’s stomach, sending Troy reeling backwards.
The gun fired as Logan thrust my arm into the water.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Peterhof Fountains, glorious in the middle of the late summer day, appeared before me, the water in the Roman Fountain reaching the middle of my calves. Logan dragged me out of the fountain, and I glanced around, trying to absorb what had just happened.
Violet was already running, and we managed to get a few feet ahead before armed guards were at our sides, ushering us toward the exit.
“Please. Evacuate immediately,” they ordered, in both English and Russian. I followed the confused herd of people to the exits, and Violet crowded next to Logan, the fear evident in her wide-eyed gaze.
“What’s going on?” I asked one of the guards, but he ignored me. I brushed a long strand of my dark hair from my eyes, looking down at my hands.
I was… me.
One of the older men ahead of me turned around, marching with a sense of urgency. “Bomb threat,” he shouted, in English. “Just move quickly to the exit.”
“Bomb threat... Logan!” I cried, turning to him, the blood draining from my face and sending tingling sensations through my fingers. “West! Logan, he isn’t back yet!”
“Roam, move, and stop talking,” he snapped, shoving me forward. I fought him, trying to turn back to the fountain, but he caught me and locked his vice-like hold on my upper arms. Years of playing baseball gave him a merciless grip. “Move, Roam,” he hissed, his voice unrecognizable and thick with resentment. “I’m following West’s orders, so just do what I say.”
I blanched.
West gave Logan instructions, but not me?
I followed him quickly, and once we were outside the nearest exit, Logan hailed us a taxi. I sat between Violet and Logan as he gave the driver the name of our hotel.
Remembering suddenly, I covered my stomach with my hands.
Nothing.
I had the same body that I’d been born with in 1995. My dark hair hung damply against my cheeks, and my long legs were clammy against my wet jeans.
Violet was sitting calmly next to me, and I turned to her. “Are you okay?” I asked, unsure of how she was handling everything we’d just been through. She raised a perfectly arched blond eyebrow, shaking her head.
“Okay? What does that even mean? I have a million questions, and my head is throbbing,” she complained, pressing her fingers to her temple.
“Who is she?” Logan asked me.
“West’s daughter,” I replied, softening my tone.
He stared at her, and Violet rolled her eyes.
“I’m assuming that you mean my biological father. That asshole left when I was an infant. If you’re referring to the man who just saved our lives, he was way too young to be my father.”
The sound outside forced a scream from my throat.
The cab shook violently, and I gasped, turning to look out the back window.
Billows of smoke appeared thick in the air, coming from the direction of the fountain as we passed the Nava Arch.
The driver said something in Russian, and the cab shook again as I witnessed another explosion deep in the distance behind us. As the cab pulled over to the sidewalk, I struggled to breathe, trying to believe what was happening.
Explosions. At the fountain.
“She’s hyperventilating,” Violet said, her voice distant in my ringing ears. I winced in pain as I felt Logan’s bruising hold on my upper arm. He had pinched me, hard, and I widened my eyes at him.
“Don’t faint. Get out of the cab,” he shouted, pushing us out.
We were blocks from the hotel, but Logan was running. We had no choice but to run to keep up with him. I glanced around, finding people running next to us, shouting in Russian. Almost everyone had cell phones pressed to their ears. The chaotic scene was punctuated with police cars and other emergency vehicles, and when we finally reached the hotel, the concierge was watching the television on the wall of the lobby.
“…Bombings at the Peterhof Palace. The fountains appear to be the focus of the attack, and explosions continue to erupt behind me…”
“Holy fuck, we were just there,” Violet exclaimed, staring at the reporter on the screen. Her wide, blue eyes filled with shock, and Logan took her hand, leading her toward the stairs.
“We’re okay,” he told her. “I’ll get you safely home.”
The chivalrous boy that I was used to surfaced for a moment, and Violet nodded thankfully, moving closer to his side.
Once in the hotel room, I rushed to West’s backpack. Kneeling on the floor, I searched for some sign that he’d made it safely out of the past, out of the fountain and back to the hotel.
Violet lowered to the bed, breaking into relieved tears, and Logan sat next to her, speaking quietly, answering as many questions as he could for her.
I ruffled through his clothes, the scent of him nearly destroying me as it caught me off guard. It was all just as we left it that morning. His laptop, his clothes, his phone… everything was neatly packed inside his backpack. I folded over, reaching for his shirt and pressing the cool material to my face.
As I did, a sheet of paper fell onto the carpet.
I reached for it, recognizing his handwriting.
Reading his words, I crumbled beneath the weight of my aching heart.
Dear Roam,
I pray that you receive this.
I knew that Troy would be waiting for us. If you knew that too, you’d have panicked.
My love for you would have taken over all logical thought, and I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did.
I spoke to Logan. It was my idea to make you think that he’d left. I’m sorry that you couldn’t know. If Troy suspected anything, it wouldn’t work.
The only way to protect you is to keep Troy from you. As you said, we cannot kill him, but we can trap him. I am the only one who can prevent him from following you, and that means destroying the door to save you.
Roam,
If you are pregnant, please protect our child. Whatever her destiny is, she is the only hope for this world. Logan has promised to care for you and keep you safe until you both get home.
Everything that I have is yours now.
I sobbed, taking a moment to wipe my face with my wet sleeve before trying to read through my blurry vision.
I love you, Roam. I have loved you since the beginning of our time. If there is a way for me to come back to you, I will.
I swear to you that I will.
-West
“Roam?”
I lifted my face to Logan’s. He knelt beside me, glancing at the paper in my hand. The bathroom door closed as Violet left us alone.
“Logan… he’s gone, he’s trapped,” I whispered, swallowing hard and trying to speak clearly. “I know I’ve hurt you… and I’m so sorry… my heart is breaking, and there’s no one…”
I made no sense, but he seemed to know exactly what I was saying.
In seconds his arms were around me. “Damn it,” he cursed, pressing my forehead to his shoulder, his hands flattening over my back. “Cam, I’ll always be your friend, even if things can’t be what they were. I can’t forget our friendship, or what you mean to me.”
I nodded, unable to speak.
“I promised West that I’d make sure that you took care of yourself. I owe him for saving my family, and for working with me ev
en though he knew… what I am.” He lowered his eyes. “I also promised to make sure that you learn how to fight. I have a year before boot camp, and I plan to do that.”
Sniffing, I brushed at my tears, trying to control myself. “Troy said… there are two worlds. A world where he is a king, and we are nothing.” I pressed my face into his shoulder. “Do you think that’s true?”
He brushed his hand over my hair. “I don’t doubt anything anymore. Anything is possible.”
Violet opened the door, her face freshly washed. Now that I could focus on her, I realized that she reminded me a lot of West. Aside from her blue eyes, her composed countenance mirrored the self-control that I’d known so well in West.
“I live in Virginia. If you get me to Ohio, I can drive back to Virginia myself.”
I nodded, meeting her eyes. “Did Logan explain things to you?”
She tilted her head slightly, shrugging. “Yes. And if what… Troy… said is true, then my mother, my real mother, is alive. And I will to find her.” She held my gaze, crossing her arms around herself.
“I don’t understand where she is,” I said, more to myself than to her.
She took a step toward me. “Logan said that you lost your mother. What would you do to get her back?”
I listened to her tiredly, nodding. “I understand. I would do anything.”
“Exactly.”
“What about your… father?” I asked, trying to keep the hurt out of my tone. “What about West? We need to find him-”
Her expression turned to stone.
“I don’t have a father.”
I was too exhausted to argue with her. Instead, I rested against Logan, and he sighed.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.”
With West’s resources, Logan bought tickets and arranged for our trip back to Ohio. After the bombings, many flights were canceled, but we secured one that evening that took us back to Rome. I moved into survival mode, closing in on myself and disappearing to a place in my mind that was filled with only West.
As we boarded for the first flight, I turned to Logan, lowering my voice. “The numbers will change. Can you handle it?”
“Can you?” he asked, glancing at the attendant.
“I think so,” I whispered. He nodded.
Roam (Roam Series, Book One) Page 23
