Somewhere Bound
Page 1
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
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Foundlings:
Somewhere Bound
Book Three of Three
By Fiona Keane
Foundlings: Somewhere Bound
Copyright © 2018 by Fiona Keane.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: February 2018
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-312-2
ISBN-10: 1-64034-312-1
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To those of you feeling lost in your storm, hold your anchor. We are all bound to someone, something, or somewhere, and someday the purpose of your journey will be clear to you.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
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CHAPTER ONE
Jameson
I returned from using the rest stop bathrooms, hoping I hadn’t contracted a disease from the stagnant filth left in that seldom-cleaned space, and noticed the hatch door was closed. I didn’t realize quite how flexible I was until I practically used my elbows and feet for every task within that restroom. I opened my door, ready to talk with Soph, hoping I could find words to ease her mind.
“Soph, I was thi—” She’s sound asleep. Out cold. Practically snoring.
Her snoring was adorable—the soft purr of a kitten meeting the sniffle of a stubborn piglet. That was just one more Soph-ism I wished I could capture in a jar and bring out on cold, lonely nights. Who was I kidding? With Soph at my side, there would be no lonely nights.
I stood, half inside the car, mesmerized by her form. Soph was curled onto the seat, buckled in, with her knees folded beneath her thighs. She was facing my seat, but looking down with her calmly sealed eyes tricking anyone into believing the trauma behind them didn’t exist.
I pulled my phone from the pocket of my sweatpants, reminded of how I would have done just about anything for a clean pair, and flipped through my screen. There were tons of missed calls and texts from Thomas and Elizabeth, even three calls from Olivia. We couldn’t look back, especially not yet. Taking precautions, I scanned through my settings and turned off all tracking—location, data, and Wi-Fi. Where we were running, we couldn’t be found.
I nestled into my seat, leaning over to kiss Soph’s hair. She let out a small sound, but barely moved. I hope that helps with whatever dreams she’s having.
I started the ignition and, with a sigh lifting my lungs back to reality, I pulled out of the rest stop and back onto the freeway, bound for Memphis. Quickly calculating the math based on the mile markers, I had about seven hours left. Seven hours to distance ourselves from Florida even more. Seven hours until we could begin again. Seven more hours with this angel at my side, sleeping soundly. How Soph could seem so peaceful with the new weight burdening our hearts was a mystery, but that was who Sophia Reid was. She was mysterious, elusive, and endearing. Jesus. She is so strong.
Two hours after leaving the rest stop, we buzzed by Montgomery. Soph was still asleep, but when we were another half hour northwest of Montgomery, she leaned even further over the median and was snuggled against my right arm. I was terrified to use the gearshift and mastered driving with only my left hand because I didn’t want to wake her.
Ninety minutes later and my bladder was about to erupt. I desperately needed coffee, but Soph was kitten-piglet snoring against my arm, clenching her tiny hands around my bicep as though she feared leaving me.
“Jameson,” she grumbled, slowly pulling away from my arm.
I glanced over, unable to resist the smile beaming across my face. Her entire left cheek was red from pressing against my arm. Her eyes were swollen from sleep…or sadness. My poor Soph.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“I’m sorry I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to. Why didn’t you wake me? We didn’t get to finish…talking about everything.”
“Don’t apologize. You needed it. You need more too. Go back to sleep. My arm misses your cheek.” I winked at her, and was rewarded with a blushing smile. “Everything I told you back there, Soph, that isn’t over. It will be with us for a while. We have to figure out what we’re going to do once we get to Memphis.” I adjusted my posture, hoping to find a comfortable position that wouldn’t be too aggressive against my swelling bladder.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t want you to yell at me again.”
“You have to pee again, don’t you? Gosh, Jameson, you’re ridiculous. If we have to stop in an emergency room on our way to Memphis because your bladder exploded, I’m not using my one hundred thousand dollars to pay for it.”
Soph scolding me was so precious. She was a fiery, angry little thing. I watched from my periphery as she let down her hair and pulled it back into a tighter pile against her head.
“Your one hundred thousand dollars?”
“Whatever,” she groaned, returning her expression toward me. “Pull over. I need a coffee.”
“Your wish…” I grinned at her, warmed by the softness in her smile, “…is my command, Soph.”
I watched the off-ramp signs, waiting for one that had a sign for anything with a bathroom cleaner than the rest stop where we could also get coffee.
“The Java Joint.” She giggled as we pulled into a drive-thru lane. “What a silly name. Java Joint.”
“Why is that so funny?” I rolled down the window and turned to see her mouth covered while she laughed, shaking her head.
“I don’t know.” She continued to giggle. “It just
makes me laugh, and laughing feels so good right now.”
“It sounds good too. You have a beautiful laugh, Soph. I’ve told you that. I love when you laugh. It java chips away at whatever negativity is going on around me.”
“Smooth.”
I would’ve replied, but a voice broke over the speaker, requesting our order. When I pulled around to the parking lot after collecting our drinks, I had to run in to use the bathroom. Fortunately, it was the Taj compared to my previous experience. I expected to see Soph bouncing in her seat from the triple-shot French vanilla latte she ordered.
“What are you doing?” I laughed, opening the driver side door. She was sitting in my seat, buckled and ready to drive.
“I’ve never driven a BMW before.” She shrugged. “Get in.”
I stood there, arms crossed, watching her.
“Jameson Burke, just get in the damn car. You have driven since Sarasota. Let me help. This is our journey, you know. You can protect me, or whatever, from the passenger seat. Hey, you might even take a nap. I’ll just follow signs for Memphis and wake you up when we’re close. Get in the car.”
***
My first dream was peaceful. My subconscious delightfully repeated the laughter and warm exchange we had once Soph got us back on the freeway. Half-asleep, I could hear her humming a song while she sped along the freeway, and I could see wisps of hair blowing around her face from the open window. Knowing we were safe, I again closed my eyes and drifted off.
“Jameson,” I heard her call my name. “Wake up. I’m going to pinch you.”
My eyes remained closed, a smile clearly pulling apart my lips. Soph was changing before my eyes. She didn’t have a panic attack after our lunch, as I thought she might. She simply fell asleep. She stole, she ran with me, she called me out. I didn’t want her to change. I wanted her to remain who she was and I felt terribly guilty for that. If it weren’t for my mess, for my past, she would still be the sweet, fragile flower I longed for back in Florida.
The longer I pretended to sleep, the more time I bought to think about how I would love Sophia Reid in any form—timid, loud, crass, thief, delicate, angelic. All of them. Now, I just need to tell her that.
CHAPTER TWO
Sophia
Downtown traffic in Memphis was intense. I surprised myself by navigating the foreign downtown streets with relative ease. Well, perhaps it wasn’t as easy as I had told myself, considering Jameson’s knuckles were the color of snow while his fists balled up in stifled irritation at my inability to traverse Memphis.
“Where do I go now?” I inquired, trying not to laugh too hard at the worried expression on Jameson’s face. He turned to me, shaking his head.
“Just stop. There. Park there.” One of his hands was pointing to a stretch of curb with open spots, plenty of space for me to slip right in and not terrorize him with an attempt at parallel parking.
“Don’t have a heart attack,” I scolded, unbuckling my seatbelt. “I did just fine. You’re alive. You napped. We’re in Memphis. All is well.”
Jameson glanced along the seated length of my body before landing on my eyes with a glimmer of hope in his own. “It’s a great day to be a runaway.”
“Indeed.” I couldn’t help but smile in response.
He was slow to leave the car, his eyes flickering to mine for a moment before a heavy sigh left his parted lips and he climbed from the car. I watched Jameson on the sidewalk once he closed his door, stretching his arms above his head, which he rolled along his shoulders.
I couldn’t snap out of my daze until I noticed his hand waving at me. I felt my face flush with heat. Embarrassed and hopeless, I exited the car and walked around to join him.
The air downtown was muggy, heavy with exhaust and people. Jameson grinned at me, his mouth pulling apart delectably into a stealthy smile while I slowly joined him on the sidewalk.
“Don’t be shy,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me tightly against him.
I couldn’t breathe. It felt invigorating, entirely renewing. We were in Memphis. We made it out of Florida, Georgia, and Alabama, all as Reid and Burke. I wondered, pressed against Jameson’s firm body, if I could still be me with a new identity. The more I let that thought linger, burning into my mind, I realized that I wasn’t me anymore. I hadn’t been the same Sophia Reid since my mom died, since leaving Oregon…since meeting Jameson.
“Are you in there, Soph?” His lips pressed against my forehead once more, pulling me from the stupor.
I missed my mom. I wanted her to meet Jameson. She’d probably fall in love with him and ask him to move into the garage just so she could have one more person to spoil with her crepes.
“Yeah.” My reply was late, subdued.
“What are you thinking about?”
“My mom.” I pulled my face away from his chest. “And you. And crepes.”
Jameson nodded, smiling at me with such affection radiating behind his eyes that I could barely contain the emotion brewing inside my chest. His hold released, and I felt a chill despite the warm, muggy air of Memphis. He took the keys from my hand. My arms crossed securely around my body, steadying myself as I stood on the sidewalk watching Jameson pull his school bag from the car. One hundred thousand dollars. My eyes followed his length, enamored by how fluid and confident Jameson’s every movement was. A quick wink was all it took to do me in. I was a puddle against the sidewalk, panting like a puppy and embarrassing the old Sophia. Jameson’s left arm wrapped around my shoulders and we began walking.
“We’re missing graduation.” His words met my hair while his lips kissed softly against my head. I could only sigh, thinking of one more thing I left behind in Florida—that future, that path.
“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “I wouldn’t have gone anyway. I don’t want all that attention.”
My arms were wrapped around Jameson’s waist while he guided us along the crosswalk between Monroe Avenue and Second Street. It was nearing eight in the evening and my heart was drained. It was up to my brain at this point; mindlessly following my guide along the foreign streets of Memphis.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Yes, Soph.” Jameson’s left arm tightened around my waist. “This…this is it. Okay. Do you want to come with me or should we go to the hotel first and you stay there?”
This time, the last thing I wanted was to be alone, but I also wasn’t prepared to watch my identity be erased from existence. What do I do? I can’t let Jameson handle this alone. I can’t be so selfish.
“I…I’ll go. We should do this together. It isn’t just you anymore.”
“Sophia,” his voice lowered, radiating his charm throughout my body, “you are so beautiful. Do you have any idea how courageous you are? I would give my life to have a fraction of your bravery.”
“Hardly,” I scoffed, attempting to reduce the attention on me.
Even though the words, the precious compliments, were coming from Jameson, the attention was tickling the nervous panic inside my heart. This needed to be done as quickly as a Band-Aid could be pulled. The longer we stood, waiting and knowing what was to happen, the more likely I was to finally crack, stumbling into a ball of panic at Jameson’s feet. But then, when I felt Jameson’s fingers tighten around the back of my neck, and I looked up to see his dark, golden eyes burning into mine, I couldn’t think of anything. I couldn’t fathom anger, sadness, rage, exhaustion, happiness…I could barely comprehend the longing and enormity of his subsequent words.
“I’m in love with you, Soph.”
This feeling, the tingle in your heart, the tightening of your chest. Sophia, that is a good panic. That is a safe panic. That is the type of feeling that reminds you you’re alive, you are loved. You are loved by Jameson. You are protected by Jameson. Feel this panic and savor it because this means your world is complete. He loves you.
My heart threatened to pound beyond the confines of my ribcage, its blood burning along the skin of m
y neck, searing beneath every surface touched by Jameson while he held me. This man loves me.
“I…” For the love of God, Sophia, just relax. This is a good, healthy panic. Take a breath, think of him. Look at those eyes and all they behold in their reflection of good. He sees you in a light you never saw yourself, as you see him.
My head shook, attempting to subdue the song of my subconscious while it prevented me from providing Jameson with a response. This was a good panic. I could feel it. My heart was throbbing painfully, but the pain was sweet and kind. It was the hurt that felt good, coursing through my body as his words repeated in the cloud between our faces.
“I love you, Soph.” He wasn’t asking for a reply, Jameson was validating his own heart. I lifted to my toes, throwing my arms around his neck and almost strangling him before my legs flew around his waist, holding on by my ankles.
“This means you feel the same?” Jameson chuckled, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin along my neck, making his mark.
CHAPTER THREE
Jameson
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t breathe in air because my soul was inhaling Soph, absorbing every molecule of her existence that I loved. My fingers roamed along her legs while she clung to me, worried she might fall.
“Yes,” she whispered at my neck. “I do. I feel the same. I have always felt the same, Jameson. I love you. I love you.”
“I love you.” My hands went beneath her knees, guiding her from me so I could look at her beautiful face. “I plan on doing so for a very long time. Maybe even forever.”
My heart warmed from her blush; the shy, sweet girl I had fallen for was still in there. Thank you, Lord.
I took Soph’s left hand in mine and walked across the sidewalk to the front door of where our lives would change forever. They already had. Even without official new names, new paperwork, or new identities, our lives had changed the moment I looked up at Sophia on her first day at Fremont High. Her smile, her skirt, her long sleeves…she was my mystery. She is my story.