Fall (Roam Series, Book Two)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  “I understand,” I breathed, inhaling the thick scent of aftershave.

  “So do I,” he lowered his lips to mine, barely brushing them with his, and then backed away again. I moaned quietly, following for 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. “It’s not enough, and it has to be right now.” I groaned. He lowered his lips to my upper arms, kissing first my left, and then my right, hovering for endless minutes over my chest. “I will never grab you like that again.”

  “You didn’t hurt me.”

  “Be angry,” he ordered, turning my arm for better access to the underside of my wrist. I writhed beneath his mouth, undone beneath his simplest touch.

  “I can’t,” I repeated his words, closing my eyes. I remembered the way his body felt on mine as he made love to me, and my mind became my torturer. “I miss you,” I cried, turning my head on the pillow to find his lips.

  When his mouth covered mine, I opened to him, melting as his tongue nipped my lips and dove.

  Eva’s soft whimpers broke the spell, and he laughed breathily, pressing his lips to my forehead.

  “We’d better get used to this,” he said, retrieving her from the cradle.

  I watched his loving way with her, turning to my side. “I want to go home.”

  He nodded, still gazing at Eva. “I will take us home. We can’t stay like this. I will keep Troy at my house… I’ll build a cell of some sort in the basement for him, and give him his basic needs.” I knew it was difficult for him to concede to my wishes, but he’d obviously thought hard about this while he was gone. “Until Eva is older, and we figure out how to fulfill the prophecy.”

  “Thank you,” I closed my eyes, listening to her breathe.

  “I love you,” he said softly.

  I opened my eyes to find 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; 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 don’t know how we’ll get him back without doing exactly what we did before.” West said.

  “You’re not certain these inclined planes lead to my mother, and you don’t know if the prophecy is done. We can’t kill him.” Violet stared at the ocean from the window.

  He sighed deeply. “There’s no other way, Violet.”

  I gathered a bucket of warm, soapy water and a washcloth while Eva slept. West watched me, and I could feel his restraint from across the room. “I’m going with you.”

  “Fine.” I gestured to the kitchen. “Bring fresh water, and some bread.”

  West checked Troy’s restraints before removing the gag and waiting in the corner of the shed. I walked hesitantly toward him, my eyes following the ropes again and again. He turned to face me, looking at the bucket of water and washcloth in my hand.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Just be quiet.” I dipped the washcloth into the water and removed it, wringing it thoroughly. “I won’t hurt you.”

  He cringed as I reached for his face, my hand shaking in fear. He could still bite, I thought, shuddering. When he didn’t, I pulled the rag down his face, watching the dirt streak beneath my touch.

  “I’m guessing this was her idea,” Troy called to West, over my shoulder.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “It’s been a while since she touched me,” he turned his face to my hand suddenly, his mouth almost making it to my wrist before I wrenched my hand away.

  “That’s enough.” West crossed to me and grabbed the bucket, tipping it over his head. “Roam, I’ll make sure he has the food and water. Go back in the house with the baby,” he ordered gently.

  I could only nod, panic seizing my reflexes.

  West took us across to the hospital that afternoon. After a comprehensive examination, we were both deemed in good health. When I asked West about vaccinations, he promised 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 housewife. 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 it was cold outside. Eva’s diapers and blankets required constant attention, and I thanked God that we were only in 1955, and not an earlier time.

  There was no one mainland supermarket; West bought only what we absolutely needed from the butcher, and spent 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 Troy, and how to 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 didn’t look my way, but I felt Logan’s eyes on me.

  “I’m going for a walk.” Violet disappeared into the bedroom for a moment before leaving through the backdoor.

  Eva sighed softly, and I tucked the yellow blanket more securely around her sleeping face. “There are no car seats… I just hold her,” I realized, 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’ll need a hospital, and you’ll need to take her,” I felt the anxiety grow in the pit of my stomach, and he tucked his arm around me.

  “And we’ll work it out. Logan will explain that you were attacked downtown. You’ll be in your original clothes. I’ll go straight to my house, and Violet will help with Eva while I secure Troy. We’ll prepare bottles for feeding her.”

  “I just don’t want to be away from her,” I swayed in my chair gently. “I will worry constantly.”

  “It’s the best we can do, Cam.” Logan slid his chair out and stood up, glancing out the back door. “I’ll go check on Violet.”

  West and I moved to the couch. “And after I get out of the hospital?”

  He stilled my wringing hands before they could wake the baby. “Then we make things work for the rest of the school year. You graduate high school, Roam.”

  The back door burst open. Logan carried Violet, her lifeless arms hanging at her sides as blood poured from two open wounds at her wrists. “She cut herself,” he cried, breaking. West ran to her, dropping to his knees as Logan lowered her to the hardwood floor.

  “Oh God!” I stood, rushing to the bedroom with Eva. It took everything I had to gently lay her down in the cradle 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 tilted her bloodless head back, looking at Logan. “Pressure! Stop the bleeding!”

  “I’m trying,” he fumbled with the towels, blood covering both of his hands and making them slippery.

  West began breathing into her mouth. “Hold her wrists up,” he said between breaths. “She…,”

  “It’s stopping,” Logan dropped her wrists to her sides, and I pressed my hands over my mouth, watching the deep, serrated slashes on her wrists slowly heal themselves. West rolled back on his
heels, watching her 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. “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  She lifted her wrists, her blue eyes unblinking. “I… you can kill him,” she said, her voice wavering as she looked at West. “You can snap his neck. We’re still immortal.”

  West stared at her as though she were a disobedient child. “You can clean this up,” he snapped, releasing her and moving to the bedroom. Violet shifted her eyes to me, and I knelt next to her.

  “I’ll do this. Logan, help her,” I began sopping up the blood with the tourniquet towels. Logan lifted her to her feet, walking her toward the bathroom. West met them in the doorway with wet towels, looking at her squarely.

  “I understand why you did this. But we’re working together. No surprises.”

  “Okay,” she nodded, her chin quivering.

  “Logan, please help her clean up.”

  “I am.” Logan brushed his fingers over her blonde curls, pressing his lips to her head. I watched her lean into his arms, breaking into tears.

  West knelt next to me, pressing the towels to the bloodied floor. “Roam?”

  “He told me not to take her.” I lifted my shaking hands, staring at the blood. “Troy said, ‘don’t take her to 2012.’ Did he mean Violet? Or Eva?”

  “Don’t speak to him. Why would he help us anyway?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Eva began to cry. I climbed to my feet, still shaking. West sat back, staring at the pool of blood. He draped his hands over his knees.

  “We go tonight.”

  I nodded.

  The next hours were spent readying ourselves for the drive back to Ohio. West took Violet and Logan across first with Troy, well after midnight, after snapping his neck once more. I slipped into a constant sickened state, barely able to form words except to comfort Eva as we moved through the night.

  Once we were on the road, I stared at the moonlit sound, unsure if I ever wanted to see the cottage again.

  The return trip was stoic, and we moved in automated patterns, barely speaking. I fed and changed Eva; West and Logan drove; Violet argued with the radio dial of the 1955 Chevrolet conversion van.

  West regularly killed Troy.

  Near southern Ohio, Violet turned Ain’t That a Shame down and looked at West, who sat next to her in the driver’s seat. “When do we try these inclined planes?”

  I knew the question had been burning in her mind since we left. He kept his eyes focused on the windshield. “When we have Troy secured, and Roam healthy enough to take care of Eva.”

  “What if you stay, and I take her through.” Logan’s voice surprised me; I watched him lean forward. “Roam will never be able to explain Eva.”

  “And if Troy is in 2012 and secure, there isn’t much danger if we try to cross over,” Violet agreed. West turned to her.

  “It sounds like the two of you have discussed this.”

  “Yep.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest, staring out the window.

  “And I will find a way to explain Eva,” I added defensively. “My dad and Morgan will know her.”

  “When I marry you, we can explain that she is my child.” West said, quiet. “It will work out.”

  The ice that crept over the van radiated from Logan’s general direction. “Married, huh?” He turned to me, and I was thankful for his stranger’s face at that moment. “Probably won’t be the big deal my parents were planning for us, right?”

  “Logan,” I protested softly, staring at Eva.

  He turned and looked back out the window.

  It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon when we got to Cleveland, and snow blanketed the grass. In the daylight, holiday shoppers crowded the streets downtown, and Violet found a station that played only Christmas music.

  Warmed by Bing Crosby and Gene Autry’s timeless carols, I fed Eva as West parked in the secluded back lot of a department store. Logan sat in the driver’s seat, talking quietly with Violet, while West and I took turns cradling Eva between us.

  “She has perfect features. Annie’s features are so cute… my eyes are too big, and my chin is too long…,”

  “I miss your eyes and your chin like you wouldn’t believe,” West teased, meeting my lips in a loving kiss. “I told you… no one compares to you, Roam. Not in any life.”

  “She smiled! West, look at her lips,” I laughed softly, watching her mouth curl into a dreamy smile as she slept in West’s arms.

  “She’s happy,” he traced her face with his finger. “I’ll make sure that she always is.”

  We shared sandwiches and fruit that we’d packed for the trip, and as the sun disappeared, we took turns using the department store bathrooms. Logan and Violet changed back into their clothes, now cleaned, and I stared at my stained sweater dress, loathing the idea of having to put it back on. As midnight approached, the streets cleared, and the emptiness of downtown shadowed over the streets and sidewalks. As I slipped the dress over my head, I watched Eva wistfully.

  “I’ll miss feeding her,” I realized out loud. West gathered me into his arms.

  “I know, baby. But I’ll get to feed her, and I’m looking forward to that,” he admitted.

  “We should go,” Logan pulled along the curb next to the Hanna Fountains. The snow lay in the emptied fountain.

  We’d go back the same way that we came.

  “I hate to put her in the snow,” I gazed at Eva, pressing my warm lips to her forehead. She smelled like powder and her, a smell I would know for the rest of my life.

  “It’ll only be for a few seconds,” he promised, shouldering Troy’s weight with Logan. I nodded.

  “Hold hands. Logan, hold Violet, or she won’t go through. Roam, don’t let go of my hand.”

  I lowered my arm, entwined with West’s, and gently placed Eva’s arm in the snow.

  I should have been prepared for the pain; the moment we traveled, my throat constricted, and the cramping returned to my abdomen. Gasping, I held my hands over my stomach, doubling over.

  “We’re through… There’s the Pilot. Logan, put him in… Roam?” West turned to me, lowering Troy’s body to the snow. “Roam, where’s Eva? Roam!”

  I lifted my empty arms, catching my breath. The fiery pain in my arm brought me to my knees as the numbers began to reappear, coordinates embroidered by burning needles. As I gritted through the new pain, I comprehended West’s words.

  Time stopped.

  I felt the blood trickling down my leg, but turned back to the fountain, registering that Eva was gone. Thrusting my arm back into the snow, I waited, my chest rising and falling in painful, broken breaths.

  Nothing happened.

  “Take her through! Her numbers aren’t working,” Logan shouted as he and Violet watched in horror. West grabbed my arm, holding it under the snow.

  I watched him fade away before me, but I remained, leaning against the edge of the War Memorial Fountain, bleeding.

  He returned in seconds, staring at me, not understanding.

  Seconds turned to minutes; the misery in my hollow chest took over logical thought or any hope for understanding. The empty space in my mind was cloaked with shadows and monsters, dark haired, ice-blue eyed demons who trailed with knives and searing branding irons. West’s calming voice, his hands, his lips were there, and then gone, and then back to dank leaves in bloody forests, with insects on dripping dungeon walls while rats scurried at my feet.

  “He told me not to take her through… he knew… magic brought her to me, magic took her away,” I held my hands over my ears, screaming, floating. West carried me to the Pilot, shouting instructions to Logan and Violet.

  In our last life, we’d have a chance to go back.

  But not to come home.

  I closed my eyes.

 
Chapter Sixteen

  Gone… as if she never existed.

  I woke with a start, focused on the silver rails of a hospital bed. “… mild laryngeal damage. Her voice will be hoarse for a while.”

  “Dad?” I turned slightly, and my father moved to my side.

  “Don’t try to talk sweetheart. Everything is okay,” he reached for my hand, gently squeezing it. “You have an IV in your arm.”

  “Logan,” I tried to sit up, but he leaned over to hug me.

  “He’s here. He’s in the waiting room with Morgan. I’ll bring him in soon.”

  Modern technology surrounded me; I watched my blood pressure reading blink as an automatic cuff began to close around my upper arm.

  “Do you remember what happened?” My dad looked tired; I could read the wrinkles below his eyes and the lines at his lids.

  “Yes,” I blinked at the bright lights above the bed in confusion. “No,” I realized, sitting up in alarm.

  “Mr. Camden?” Logan’s face appeared at the doorway of my triage room, and I moaned. I felt as though someone held my head down to the bed, pouring the horrific memories into my ear.

  We traveled to 1955; I gave birth to Eva.

  And we came back without her.

  “Logan,” I cried, my throat constricted. “What’s wrong with me?”

  “The doctor will be in soon…,” my dad looked at Logan expectantly; Logan put his hand on my father’s shoulder, meeting his eyes.

  “I’ll talk to her. Why don’t you go out with Morgan.”

  My dad turned to me. “Is that what you want, Roam?”

  I nodded, tears brimming.

  Logan waited until my father walked out before squatting next to my bed, taking my hand. “Everything is okay, Cam. West and Violet secured Troy in his basement. He won’t hurt you.”

  “Eva?” I twisted the knitted blanket in my fingers, feeling the blood pressure cuff tighten at my grip.

  Logan kept his steady, watery brown gaze. “She’s gone. Annie is gone. West went back; you never existed… Eva… never existed…,”