West (A Roam Series Novella)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  Just Roam. Just the little girl I’d seen on the front of the local newspaper eleven years ago.

  “Fine?” I smirked, repeating her words.

  And when I realized I wanted her full lips on mine, I froze. Fight it. Stick to the plan. I burst to my feet, launching into a tirade at the kids.

  My punishing words silenced the giggling class, and I tore into them for laughing at her. Then, I laid down the law about cell phones. And since I’d memorized the students and matched their names to class photos, I knew it was Michelle Crane who was texting in her lap.

  When I called her out and banned crotch texting, Roam began twisting her fingers together, a furious flush brightening her cheeks. Yeah, crotch probably wasn’t the best word, but I needed to get to these kids- on their level.

  “And last but not least… this is history class. Timelines. Events. Dates. Don’t bore me with your opinions; I won’t bore you with mine. Just facts.”

  What did these kids know about anything, let alone history? I’d gotten into too many heated debates with college level students, and the last thing I wanted to hear was some bored teenager giving me their opinions on the Civil War.

  Especially when I’d been there myself.

  To my surprise, her hand shot into the air. I smiled. I’d lit a fuse, I could tell by the stain in her cheeks. “Yes, Miss Camden?”

  “Just to be clear; are you opposed to us voicing our opinions on history, or forming them all together?”

  I stared at her. Annie’s blush, Julie’s haughty mouth, Isa’s arched eyebrow. Definitely Amina’s confidence.

  I wanted to put my hands on her. I wanted to bury myself inside of her. I wanted to hear her say that she loved me again, to whisper it in my ear, to kiss me the way she had kissed me a thousand times.

  And at that moment, I knew I’d just made the biggest mistake of my existence.

  Clearing my throat, I struggled for control.

  “Miss Camden, I’m sure you’ll have more than a few opinions once we get started. I’d love to hear each and every one of them. But- please make an appointment with me. I will not let one student monopolize another student’s time.” I smiled. “As I said, I am restricted to only 182 days- something tells me you’ll need a little more time.”

  Her smile bowled me over. “I feel like you know me very well.”

  Jesus Christ.

  I’m screwed.

  “Well, I make it a point to know who I’m teaching.”

  I tore my eyes away from her and explained that we would introduce ourselves. I began, and sure enough, some punk named Brandon asked why I was teaching there with a PhD.

  “I have my reasons,” I answered, ignoring him. “Roam, since you’re right up front, you can go next.”

  Bright red, she began. “Sure. My name is Roam Camden. I plan to attend Yale and major in history. I enjoy reading…,” she remembered to breathe, “…swimming… watching movies… and spending time with my boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend. Of course. Why wouldn’t she? Why hadn’t I considered this scenario? She was gorgeous, obviously smart, and had me considering doing things to her that were highly inappropriate- and illegal.

  “Good luck to you, Roam.” I managed. Her name- ask about her name! “Do you mind if I ask you where your name came from?”

  She was caught off guard. “My name?”

  “Roam. Spelled like ‘to travel.’”

  Squirming uncomfortably, she met my eyes. I silently enjoyed her discomfort- the heat in her face made her even prettier. “The B52’s song. Roam. My mom was a fan.”

  I smiled.

  I smiled at her, at the universe, and at the fate that had me searching for her over and over again…

  Following her through each and every lifetime.

  She was different. Familiar. Every cell in my body reacted to her. My blood roared in my ears, my heartbeat thundered in my chest, and my need for her was greater than it had ever been.

  I couldn’t think of Laurel, or Annie, or any other woman I’d ever loved.

  All I could feel was Roam.

  I nodded slowly, a grin tugging at my lips. “Ah yes. Great song.”

  She nodded, and the introductions continued, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  Something told me that I’d never be able to again, not for the rest of our lives.

  Chapter Three

  Raleigh, North Carolina

  October 1954

  Annie

  “Annie, that’s too heavy, darlin’,” he chastised, stepping in front of her. I watched him push out his chest before bending to move the large piece of wood from the pile of debris. “What are you fishing for in here?”

  “My necklace,” she responded, reaching for what appeared to be a damaged, sodden jewelry box.

  “Hurricane fuckin Hazel. Must be damn near millions of dollars worth of damage in Raleigh alone.”

  “Don’t curse, Jimmy, please,” she protested. He snorted, running a hand through his thick, greasy hair before turning toward another pile of rubble. He moved behind what once was a house.

  I waited until he was well out of earshot before approaching her. She barely noticed as I squatted across from her. The heat pooled with the moisture in the air, and I took a moment to wipe the sweat off my brow with the back of my sleeve. “Need some help, angel?”

  She lifted her eyes to mine.

  I smiled, tipping my fedora once. “Devastating storm. I’m in the area to help with the clean-up. What can I do?”

  She blinked, her wide, green eyes sparkling in the sunshine. It was hard to believe that only four days ago, the hurricane had roared through Raleigh at over 120 miles per hour. Downed trees paralleled the streets, and the small bungalows that had once stood on Cavanaugh Street now littered the roads in piles of wreckage.

  “Annie… Annie Donat,” she held her hand out to mine, her lips curving into an awed O.

  All I had to do was touch her, and she was offering me her hand.

  I swallowed, tipping my hat again and gesturing to my hands. “I’ve been working, ma’m, and wouldn’t want to dirty your pretty hands,” I grinned, and she blushed, lowering her eyes. Her honey-blonde, slightly wavy hair picked up hints of strawberry in the sunlight. She blew a strand that was stuck to her cheek, and a smile inched over her pink lips.

  Oh, this one was pretty. Too pretty.

  “West Perry,” I added, sifting through the piles of debris. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  She nodded, slipping the necklace over her head. The cross was small, silver, and rested against her chest. “It was my grandmother’s. She passed away last month. This was her house… I lived here,” she turned and stood over the destruction that the hurricane had caused, her long skirt falling to her ankles. I stood as well, towering over her- she couldn’t have been more than 5’2”.

  “And where will you live now?” I asked her.

  When she turned back to me, her eyes were brimming with tears. It had been so very long since I saw that look in her eyes… not since Lysbette, in France.

  In the first life.

  So lost.

  “West,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. But I’ll be honest with you.” She tightened her fists at her sides, lowering her voice. “I have been dreaming about… you. I’ve known you my entire life.”

  I stilled. What?

  “I know it sounds… crazy… but since I was a little girl, I’ve seen your face in my dreams. Some of the dreams are wonderful, and some are horrible… but every time you promised you’d come for me… and here you are,” she finished, breathless, lifting her left arm. “In my dream there are numbers on my arm. What are they?”

  I could barely keep up with her. This has never happened. They’ve never dreamed before I met them.

  She’s dreamt of me her entire life?

  I extended my arm, and she widened her eyes at the coordinates on my inner, left forearm.

 
“You remember?” I asked, and she shook her head, tears brightening her eyes.

  “I don’t know what any of this means, but I feel like you’ve been missing my whole life.”

  Christ almighty, this was new. I glanced toward the guy who’d been talking to her. “Was this your house?”

  She nodded. “My parents live in Pennsylvania; I came here to help my grandmother. I… need to go home. Jimmy’s parents want me to stay with them, but I just can’t,” she poured, glancing back toward the greaser. “He won’t keep his hands off me.” She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.

  “Won’t keep his hands off of you?” I demanded, and I fought my temper. Carefully, I retrieved the handkerchief from my back pocket, making sure it was clean before handing it to her. “Here, Annie.”

  “Thank you,” she accepted the cloth, dabbing at her eyes. “I don’t want to go home, either… but I don’t suppose you just wandered into my life, this handsome stranger I’ve dreamt about for as long as I can remember, ready to whisk me away,” she chuckled softly.

  I stared at her, admiring her sincerity.

  She was just as lost as I’d guessed, and I couldn’t help but feel like this was all too easy.

  “Well, thank you for that compliment,” I managed, continuing to grin. “And it just so happens I’m traveling onward up the path of the storm to Canada. You’re more than welcome to come along.”

  She gripped the cross between her fingers, and a single tear remained on her button nose. She was absolutely the cutest so far- a dollface. Only twenty-one years old. “You’re offering to give me a ride?”

  Too easy. She was coming right to me. Effortless. Maybe this is it.

  Maybe this is the life we succeed in, the love I would keep forever.

  The one who will live.

  Her fair skin was rosy beneath her blush. Her silken hair framed her face, rounding it, giving a charming curve to her cheeks.

  An angel.

  “Grab what you can,” I urged, glancing again at Jimmy. She said he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Was it possible he was the Alter? “Or don’t. We’ll get you what you need. I figure we walked into each other’s lives at just the right time.”

  She beamed, trusting, needing.

  Irresistible.

  My Ford truck waited just further down the road, green and rusted but functioning. I was careful not to touch her in any way; she was leaving this town with just the clothes on her back, trusting a complete stranger.

  That told me she was telling me the truth. She’d truly dreamt about me her whole life.

  This was going to be easier than I thought.

  I opened the passenger’s side door for her, and she took a deep breath before climbing into the truck.

  Moving around to the driver’s seat, I drove- but in the opposite direction of Pennsylvania. There was no way I was taking her back to her parents. It was time to convince her, and I’d learned the sooner, the better.

  “Mr. Perry, thank you for this,” she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder numerous times until finally settling into the seat.

  Mr. Perry. I liked that.

  “You’re very welcome. Are your parents expecting you?”

  She lowered her eyes before turning to face me. “No, they aren’t. They want me married, but I refuse.”

  “Why?”

  “I won’t just marry any man,” she looped her finger in and out of her necklace. “I won’t marry someone I don’t love. I want someone who… someone who just… just takes my breath away…,” she blushed, turning away. “Too many romantic notions, as my father would say.”

  Gazing at her, I longed to take her hand in mine. This was really happening; no resistance, no questions, no struggle. She was giving herself to me, no strings attached, and I nearly gaped at her offering.

  “Annie,” I swung around another tree, careful not to hit the piece of wood in the road. “I need to show you something. And if you are willing to trust me, I will take care of you. Like you said, we haven’t known each other but for a minute, but the words I have to say have waited for lifetimes.”

  Her eyes lit with stars, and her face filled with hope. “That is so… dreamy,” she whispered, moistening her lips once.

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Son of a bitch, she was so willing. I reached for her.

  Effortless.

  I pulled along the road near the woods. When my fingers found hers and squeezed, she pressed back against the seat.

  Her breath caught in her throat only seconds before a scream tore through her chest.

  I caught her, gripping her against me. She didn’t fight; her arm was on fire, I knew the feeling. It was torturous, like intravenous acid.

  Pressing her face into my chest, she cried out, sobbing in a mixture of pain and confusion.

  “I have them, too,” I held my arm out to reflect the coordinates for Raleigh, North Carolina. They came when you were born. I was marked for you. Coordinates. We were meant to be, and I’ve been searching for you for twenty-one years.”

  The pain was subsiding; her heart rate was slowing, and she turned in my arms. Her teary eyes blinked rapidly. “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Why am I special?”

  God, she was enchanting. Every hardened belief, every horrible memory, and every time I’d failed evaporated from my mind as I locked in her gaze. The sunshine streamed through the window, and I lifted my finger to her chin.

  Tracing lightly, I tipped her face to mine. “How did I get so lucky, Annie?”

  The world centered on our little truck, post hurricane, along the side of the road in Raleigh, North Carolina.

  She lay across my lap. I lowered my face to hers, catching her top lip softly.

  She breathed a tiny cry, sliding her hands up my arms. “Mr. Perry,” she protested, weak, holding onto my shirt as though she would fall from my arms at any moment. “This is indecent- you must think I’m…,”

  “I think you’re my angel,” I pulled her more fully into my arms, my lips returning to hers. With the other girls, our first kisses had felt like first kisses- all sensations, no emotions.

  Now, I was sinking.

  She responded, eagerly, sliding her arms around my neck. I cupped her tiny waist, her hip, her leg, memorizing ever inch of her. “Baby, I need you to sit back so I can drive. I have some things to tell you, and I can’t focus with your sweet mouth on mine.”

  “I’m so embarrassed,” she covered her lips, pressing as far away from me and against the door as possible. “I can’t believe… I behaved like… what is happening? What are these numbers? Just like in my dreams?”

  It began; the confusion, the panic. I spoke calmly, the same speech I’d delivered four times before, and by the time we’d reached Rocky Mount, she was listening to my words.

  “A prophecy?” She exhaled slowly, her fingers lingering over her stomach. “Our child will save the world? I’m… afraid,” she realized, and I reached for her hand. “I see my arm, I see your arm, and I know there is something happening here that I don’t understand. But, my whole life… I’ve known you,” she let me hold her hand. “I’ve dreamed about you.”

  “Some part of you remembered us. That’s never happened before, not in any other life.”

  “I believe you. I’m afraid, but I do believe you,” she nodded, resting her head against my shoulder. “I’ll do what I must, West. If that means making a child with you, then I guess I’m the lucky one.”

  “Annie,” I groaned, threading my fingers through her hair. “None of the other lives have come… this easily. I know what this sounds like. It sounds crazy.”

  “I was crazy to run from my parents. I was crazy to come live with my grandmother, and to stay even after she died. But I was drawn toward… something… someone. You.”

  The rocking motion of the truck lulled her to close her eyes. I wrapped one arm around her, lowering a kiss to her hair.

  I would keep
her if it was the last thing I did.

  Chapter Four

  Madison, Ohio

  August 2012

  Roam

  She skipped my class the very next day.

  I was furious. She planned to major in history at Yale, yet she ditches my class on the second day? She’d also left her history book behind.

  I went to the office. She’d come in late, reporting to statistics second period. The secretary handed me a long, blue lanyard with a key attached. “Oh, Mr. Perry, if you wouldn’t mind, would you stop in Mad Snacks and unload the shipment of chips? The custodian is running late today…,”

  I forced a polite smile. “Sure.” I have to make friends here. I planned to be there for a while.

  I knew Roam had study hall third period, and I had my lunch break, so I rushed to the cafeteria study hall.

  There she was, engrossed in her cell phone. Her statistics book sat unopened. I lowered to the table, one seat away, staring at her. She was absorbed in whatever she was reading, I gave her that. Probably a text from her boyfriend- who I’d learned was Logan Rush after a quick Facebook search.

  “Miss Camden.”

  She jumped out of her skin, her voice shaking as she managed a small “Hi.”

  “I never figured you one for skipping class and surfing your phone in school. I’ll take that. Please come with me.”

  She was mortified.

  She placed the iPhone on the table, and I grabbed the device, sliding it into my pocket. Her hair was fixed into a long, thick braid, and the wet mark on the collar of her sweatshirt (combined with scent of shampoo) told me she’d just showered. Everything about her was fresh, clean, and new, and I would have been content just to sit next to her, watching her read.

  When I stood, she followed me to the football field. The late summer heat must have been so uncomfortable for her in that sweatshirt. “Where are we going?”

  “Mad Snacks. I somehow got roped into unloading the shipment of chips and candy that arrived this morning, and you can help me- since statistics seem to bore you.”

  “I did not skip your class this morning, Mr. Perry. I was ill before school and was late. Excused.”