The sun was setting over the ocean, the rain finally subsiding. “The van is gone?”
He nodded. “There is still law enforcement in 1955. We don’t need them knocking on the door. How is she?” he asked, looking eager to hold Eva.
She’d fallen asleep at my breast, and I pulled her away, smiling down at her. “She’s just so healthy. And beautiful,” I added, handing her to his waiting arms. “She’s innocent, West. All she understands is our love, and her basic needs.”
“We’ll protect her,” he whispered confidently, meeting my eyes. “We will, Roam.”
I nodded, blinking away the burning tears. “Violet is sleeping,” I added, my compassion for Eva’s needs forcing me to think of our prisoner. I moved to the cabinet to retrieve a glass, filling it with water before taking a long drink.
“She needed to be alone for a little while,” he agreed, stretching out on the couch and cradling Eva into the crook of his arm.
“You’re exhausted,” I pointed out, carrying the glass to the coffee table. “I’ll take her and let you sleep-”
“She’s just fine here, baby,” he murmured, kissing her red curls. “I want to hold her.”
I smiled at the two of them, nodding. Logan continued to put the groceries away, and I retrieved my glass. “I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back,” I told him.
The backdoor lead directly to the ocean, the dunes nothing but tiny foothills in 1955. The glass of water in my hand cut at my conscience, and I stared into the liquid as if looking for answers.
Finally, I shut my thoughts off and walked toward the shed. The door was secured with a crude lock, and I easily removed the hook from the eyehole.
Troy sat on the dirt with his eyes closed. I watched two ants crawl on his arm, my stomach turning. The foul smell of urine was amplified by the damp sand. Droplets of water fell into the shed through the unfinished roof.
What am I doing?
I backed against the wall, gripping the glass of water. Do not cry. I recalled something I’d seen about a prisoner of World War II on The History Channel who’d been captured and tortured by the Germans.
Troy is mad with revenge. He would kill me the moment he was given the chance.
He has killed me, time and time again.
“Hey,” I called sternly, clearing my throat.
His head rolled on his shoulders weakly. I balanced my shaking hands around the glass, glancing nervously at the door.
“Hm.” The sound came from his throat, and I cringed.
“Open your mouth,” I whispered.
I could barely form the words.
He did, keeping his eyes closed, and I poured a little of the water slowly into his mouth. He began to choke, and I stopped, waiting for the water to move down his throat before pouring more. Finally, after a moment, he drank eagerly, coughing and gagging no matter how slowly I poured the water.
When the glass was empty, he opened his eyes.
Those piercing blue eyes met mine, and I stepped back, ready to run from the shed. His voice stopped me.
“Roam.”
I stopped without turning to face him, listening to him cough.
“What?” I breathed, not turning back.
His words became whispers. “Don’t take her through the fountain.”
I turned slowly, facing him. “What?”
“Magic will take her away.”
He closed his eyes again, resting his head against the wall.
I threw the door open, colliding with West.
The glass dropped to the sand, and he looked at the glass, and then at me.
I’d seen him mad before, but this time, I could feel his fury as he reached for the door. “Go in the cottage, Roam.”
“West-”
“Go!” he snapped, slamming and locking the door. I clenched my fists, narrowing my eyes at him.
“We can’t just keep him like this!” I shouted, my emotions overflowing. “It’s wrong! Kill him or don’t kill him, but this is torture!”
West shook his head angrily. “You can’t begin to know what he’s done to us, not with a couple of dreams-”
“What makes us better than him, when we’re driven by revenge too? It’s disgusting,” I accused tearfully, turning to run for the cottage. He caught me by the arm, tugging me back to face him.
“Disgusting?” he repeated. His eyes blazed, and his hands gripped my upper arms so that I couldn’t turn away. “Disgusting is finding you half eaten by animals in France, lying next to our child, still attached-”
“Stop!” I screamed, my stomach turning in revulsion.
“Or smelling your flesh burn while he branded you in that dungeon-”
“West!” I tried to fall to my knees, but he held me by the arms.
“Let her go.”
Logan was suddenly between us, just as tall as West in this body, but there was no mistaking his vehemence as he glared at West.
“Kid, get out of here-”
“She hasn’t been through any of that,” he shouted, pointing at me as West released me. “She’s known love and compassion all of her life. Don’t you ever grab her like that again, or I will fucking end you.”
West turned and walked away. I dropped to my knees in the sand, sobbing as Logan knelt next to me. “I’m sorry…” I began, but he shook his head firmly.
“Don’t be sorry for being you,” he ordered, his arms wrapping tightly around me. “Don’t lose yourself, Roam.”
I sat in the sand with Logan until I heard Eva crying inside the cottage. He helped me to my feet, and I went back inside to her.
West was gone.
I changed and fed Eva, and then stood in the shower while Logan and Violet ate dinner and Eva slept.
My thoughts were in disarray. Every time I resolved to apologize to West, I stubbornly justified my actions. I ate a piece of buttered bread, unable to force more into my stomach. By midnight, Eva was sleeping soundly from her last feeding, and Logan and Violet slept on the couch together. I pulled a blanket over them, staring at the full moon over the ocean as it lit most of the cottage through the windows.
I was wrong.
I realized that then, thinking about Troy as he slumped in the shed. I hadn’t been through the many years of sorrow that West had, and it wasn’t my place to decide Troy’s fate. I had earned the right to my own feelings, just as West had earned the right to his. I had no business feeling self-righteous for deciding to show Troy compassion, nor did I have any right condemning West for his vengeance.
I crawled into bed alone, homesickness settling into my thoughts. I thought of Morgan, longing for her easy, comforting way. My mind drifted to the encyclopedias in the corner, and I sighed, crawling out of bed.
Selecting one from the top at random, I settled into the lamplight. Reading had comforted me throughout many long, lonely nights, and I dove into a passage on amnesty.
From the same root as amnesia. A pardon forgiving persons who are subject to trial but have not yet been convicted.
I read for a few more minutes before the sound of his voice startled me. “You’re awake.”
I lifted my eyes to the doorway. West leaned against the frame, his hands deep in his pockets. His face was cleanly shaven, and my heart racketed inside my chest.
“You look like… you again,” I breathed, dropping the encyclopedia to the bed. “My you. Mr. Perry.”
He crossed the room and moved over me, and I lay back on the pillow, holding his face in my hands. My fingertips delighted in his smooth, shaven skin.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. His mouth hovered over mine, circling, as if deciding how to best kiss me.
The stirring deep within began without notice, and I exhaled, moistening my lips with my tongue.
“No, I’m sorry. And I understand you,” I whispered, inhaling the thick scent of aftershave.
“I understand you too,” he replied, lowering his lips to mine, barely brushing them with his before backing awa
y again. I moaned quietly, lifting my face to follow his kiss. He teased, bending his neck to breathe against my jaw, his mouth still not touching my skin.
My body came alive, lighting beneath the mere suggestion of his touch. “Kiss me,” I pleaded, gripping the back of his neck and running my fingers over his broad shoulders.
“I can’t,” he said, his mouth over my ear. “I can’t even explain how much I need you right now, Roam. Kissing isn’t enough for me, and it has to be right now. You just had a baby.”
I groaned, arching my back against him. “I need you too,” I murmured, pressing my hips to his stomach.
He lowered his lips to my upper arms, kissing first my left, and then my right, hovering for endless seconds over my chest. “I swear to you, I will never grab you like that again.”
I shook my head, tightening my hold on him. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“Be angry,” he ordered, turning my hand to kiss the underside of my wrist. I writhed beneath his mouth, undone beneath his simplest touch.
“I can’t,” I protested, repeating his words as I closed my eyes. I remembered the way that his body felt on mine as he made love to me, and my mind became my torturer. “I miss you so much,” I cried, turning my head on the pillow to find his lips again.
When his mouth covered mine, I opened to him, melting as his tongue dove and tangled with mine. His struggle to hold back was evident, and I wasn’t helping him by pressing against him.
Eva’s soft whimpers broke the spell, and he laughed breathily, kissing my forehead with a small groan.
“We’d better get used to this,” he told me, moving to reach for her from the cradle.
I watched his loving way with her, turning onto my side. “I just want to go home.”
He nodded, still gazing at Eva. “I’ll take us home, baby. We can’t stay like this. I’ll keep Troy at my house. I’ll build a cell of some kind in the basement for him and give him his basic needs.” I knew that it was difficult for him to concede to my wishes, but he’d obviously thought hard about what had happened while he was gone. “At least until Eva is older, and we figure out how to fulfill the prophecy.”
“Thank you, West,” I whispered tearfully, closing my eyes and listening to her breathe.
“I love you,” he replied softly.
When I opened my eyes, I found him gazing at me.
“You have no idea how much I love you,” I managed, letting sleep in once more.
Chapter Fifteen
With a plan in place, everyone moved with purpose. The uncertainty and confusion of the past few days were gone, and we began working on a way to get back to the fountain in Cleveland.
When Logan and West attempted to spray Troy clean with a hose, he thrashed and growled like an animal. I stayed in the cottage with Eva and could hear his demonic snarls through the walls.
West moved through the back door, and I stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.
“I don’t know how we’ll get him back to Ohio without doing exactly what we did before,” he said.
Violet stared at the ocean from the chair near the window. “We can’t break his neck. I’ll never know how to get back to my mom if he’s no longer immortal.”
He sighed deeply, moving to the kitchen to wash his hands. “I can’t think of any other way, Violet.”
Sighing, I settled Eva into her cradle and gathered a bucket of warm, soapy water and a washcloth. West watched me, and I could feel his restraint from across the room.
“I’m going with you,” I told him, keeping my tone matter of fact. “He talked to me before, he might do it again.”
“Fine,” he agreed, gesturing to the kitchen. “Bring fresh water, and some bread.”
We walked to the shed together. Logan opened the door, and I tried to hold my breath at the stench.
West checked Troy’s restraints before removing the gag. He waited in the corner of the shed for me, and I admitted to myself that it was comforting to have him within arm’s reach.
I took a step toward Troy, hesitating as my eyes fell on his restraints. He lifted his face to mine, glancing at the bucket of water and the washcloth in my hand.
“Don’t touch me.”
I stiffened, shaking my head. “Please stop,” I whispered, dipping the washcloth into the water. “You know that I won’t hurt you.”
He cringed as I reached for his face. My hand trembled as I pulled the warm cloth over his temple. He could still bite, I thought, shuddering. When he didn’t resist, I pulled the rag over his face, watching the dirt streak beneath my touch.
“I’m guessing this was her idea,” he called to West.
“Shut the fuck up,” West bit angrily.
“It’s been a while since she touched me.”
He turned his mouth to my hand suddenly, his teeth almost making it to my wrist before I wrenched my hand away.
“That’s enough.” West crossed to me in one movement and grabbed the bucket, tipping it over Troy’s head. “I’ll give him food and water. Go back into the house with the baby, Roam,” he ordered me gently.
I could only nod, panic seizing my reflexes as I tried to run.
I don’t know what I was thinking. Troy was a monster, and no amount of compassion could change that.
West took us across the water to the hospital that afternoon. After a brief but comprehensive examination, both Eva and I were deemed in good health. When I asked West about vaccinations, he promised that we’d take care of her in 2012. “Medicine is safer in the future,” he explained.
The next two days were a crash course in the daily life of the fifties homemaker. With Logan guarding Troy and Violet doing her best with the cooking, I alternated between caring for Eva and fighting with the wringer.
I pressed the water from the clothes until my arm ached, and then spent forever looking for creative places to hang the clothes to dry while the weather refused to warm up. Eva’s diapers and blankets required constant attention, and I was thankful that we were only in 1955 and not an earlier time.
There was no one mainland supermarket. West had to go from store to store and bought only what we absolutely needed from the butcher, spending very little on produce or dairy. He was able to secure a loan from the bank after several property owners vouched for him and purchase a van, explaining that he’d like to begin a carpentry business and needed the space.
No one asked why he insisted on curtains for the windows.
We were still left with the issue of Troy and how we would travel with him fully conscious. We brainstormed at the kitchen table late into the night, West shooting down most suggestions with practical ways things could go wrong.
“He’s stronger, now that we’re feeding him,” he explained when Logan suggested just tying him up and gagging him. He didn’t look my way, but I felt Logan’s eyes on me.
“I’m going for a walk,” Violet said, disappearing into the bedroom for a moment before leaving through the backdoor.
Eva sighed softly, and I tucked the yellow blanket more securely around my sleeping baby. “There are no car seats, so I just hold her?” I asked, smiling as she blinked and focused on me for a few seconds.
“Most of us survived without car seats,” West promised, moving closer to press a kiss to my cheek.
“And when we get home,” I began, trying not to think about the condition that I was in when we traveled through the fountain. “I’ll need a hospital, and you’ll need to take her.” I felt anxiety worsen into a pit in my stomach, and he tucked his arm around me.
“We’ll work it out,” he promised. “Logan will lie and say that you were attacked downtown. We’ll dress you in your own clothes and Logan will go with you to the hospital. I’ll go straight to my house, and Violet will help with Eva while I secure Troy. I’ll get bottles for feeding her. As soon as I get them secure, I’ll come to you.”
“I just don’t want to be away from her,” I admitted, swaying with her as I sat. “I’ll worry constantly.”
>
“It’s the best we can do, Cam,” Logan said, sliding his chair out and standing up with a glance at the backdoor. “I’ll go check on Violet.”
West and I moved to the couch with Eva, and I settled in close to him. “What happens after I get out of the hospital? Will I still be pregnant? Will I live with you?”
He stilled my wringing hands before they could wake our daughter. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Roam. You were bleeding.” He drew a soft finger over Eva’s face. “But you have her. No matter what happens when we cross through that fountain, focus on Eva. She is our daughter. We’ll make things work for the rest of the school year, and I’ll be there for you no matter what. You have to graduate.”
The back door burst open suddenly, and Logan carried Violet, her lifeless arms hanging at her sides as blood poured from the two open wounds at her wrists.
“She cut herself,” he shouted, falling to his knees. West ran to them, kneeling as Logan lowered her to the hardwood floor.
Eva woke and began to sob, and I gasped, unable to believe what I was seeing. “What? Why did she do that?” I cried, jumping to my feet and rushing to the bedroom with Eva. It took all my resolve to gently lay her down in the cradle as she cried before running from the bedroom.
West’s fingers were at Violet’s neck, and Logan was wrapping towels around her wrists.
“She doesn’t have a pulse.” West’s frantic voice forced blood to rush into my ears as he tilted Violet’s pale face back and glared at Logan. “Pressure- we have to stop the bleeding!”
“I’m trying,” he snapped, fumbling with the towels as blood covered both of his slippery hands.
West began breathing into her mouth. “Hold her wrists up,” he said between breaths. “She-”
“It’s stopping. The blood… she’s healing,” Logan said, dropping her wrists to her sides. I pressed my hands over my mouth, watching the deep, serrated slashes on Violet’s wrists slowly heal themselves.
West rolled back on his heels, staring in disbelief.
The silence made me want to scream.
Violet gasped, the color returning to her cheeks in a warm flood of life. West gathered her into his arms, his bloodied hand leaving prints on her face as he crushed her to his chest. “Violet. Jesus Christ.” He murmured some whispered prayer against her face, shaking his head angrily. “What in the hell were you thinking?”
Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) Page 14
