West (A Roam Series Novella)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  No better than Logan…

  No better than Troy.

  “I’m okay. But Roam, you need to get here with me, now.”

  I snapped the phone closed, and she let the tears fall over her cheeks. “He wasn’t finished! He…,”

  “He doesn’t need to tell us what we’re doing. I’ll call him back later. Right now, I want you to get showered and not worry. I’m getting the tickets- we’re leaving tomorrow. I’ll make sure Logan knows he made you go through the numbers unnecessarily.”

  She brushed at her tears, scowling. “Don’t make him feel guilty.”

  “We know it’s true then… and it’s 1977.” I stared out at the ocean as the phone began ringing again. I took the call out on the deck, waiting to speak until she was in the bathroom.

  “Don’t you dare hurt her-…,”

  “Logan, shut the fuck up and listen to me.” I cut him off before he could begin his adolescent tirade. “I will tell her. I was not myself, and I regret what I did, but I’d never hurt her. Not Roam.”

  “Oh, not Roam? What the fu-…,” he was furious. “She’s not yours. She’s my girlfriend. She’s my best friend. If you’ve touched her in any way, I’ll end your entire career-…,”

  What, teaching? This is what he was threatening me with? “Roam makes her own decisions. Did you see Troy?”

  “No I didn’t see Troy. I didn’t fucking see anything but you choking some blonde girl to death.”

  Fuck. “Stay there. Don’t travel again- you make the numbers come when you pass through the fountain, and it hurts her. Badly. I’ll get details from you tomorrow. Text only between now and then.”

  I disconnected.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Roam

  She stood before the wet mirror in a thin, yellow sundress. I watched her working through her long hair with a comb.

  Her eyes met mine as I moved behind her. When my arms encircled her, she dropped the comb and leaned back against me.

  Into me.

  I sighed. “I’m sorry that I was so angry. If Logan had been killed, you’d be devastated, and I don’t want your love by default.”

  I’d said it. I wanted her to love me, and I needed her to know that.

  She turned in my arms, and I kissed her, the kind of kiss that was meant to comfort and promise. Pressing her forehead to my chest, she took a deep breath before lifting her sparkling eyes to mine. “As much as I will always love Logan, I just don’t… I don’t trust him,” she cringed at her own words. “He has it within him- deep in his soul- to hurt me. It may surface someday. Not knowing if it will… is frightening.”

  “And you trust me,” I added to her words, lulling. She nodded, her cheek pressed to my chest.

  “Yes.”

  My god, I wanted her again. Right there and then, on the bathroom sink. I fought back the overwhelming urge to lift her to the counter, knowing she had to be tender from our marathon lovemaking. “Then listen to me, Roam. Whatever Logan tells you, whatever he does to try to make you trust him- don’t. He may tell you terrible things, things that will hurt you and scare you, just to manipulate you. He has already been exposed to the dreams; he already has formed ideas about you and me and what we are.”

  Don’t listen to him. Don’t let him convince you that I’m a monster.

  “I need you to tell me now… about 1977. I need to know what I’m walking in to.”

  I focused on her eyes. She deserves to know. Separate my love for her from the prophecy.

  Protect her.

  “Okay,” I nodded. “First, we eat. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

  We went to a restaurant at the Plantation, settling into a quiet booth. I told her about Julie as we ordered, enjoying her comments and opinions.

  Even as I recalled my life with Julie, she watched me from across the table, her eyes heavy-lidded and wanting. I could feel her need, watching her shift uncomfortably as we talked. I considered asking them to box our food up and taking her back to the cottage.

  Back to my bed.

  I stopped short, knowing if I continued with how Julie died, she wouldn’t eat. Changing the mood, I asked her what her favorite movie was. She was amused, but indulged me anyway. We bantered over silly first date questions, and I listened to her talk shyly about herself. By the time we returned to the car, I wanted to devour her.

  “Will you tell me the rest now?” She asked, referring to Julie’s story.

  “At the cottage. After I do what I’ve been thinking about for the past two hours.”

  She smiled, melting into my kiss.

  We made it as far as the kitchen. I lifted her to the table, tugging her thin panties aside and sliding into her slowly. She clung to me, really letting go, and I reveled in every pleasured expression on her face.

  Memorizing.

  We tried to get through the cottage to the back door, but ended up on the couch next, her straddling me.

  Somehow, sometime later, we sat on the shore together, sated.

  And I told her about Julie.

  At the end, I told her that I blacked out- which was true- and that I assumed it had been either Troy or the Alter who killed her.

  Which was a lie.

  The silence that follows a lie that you tell the one you love is terrifying. It’s a sale, and as I waited for purchase, I gripped her fingers in mine.

  “That is so awful. And then you ran,” she finally said.

  She believed me. Why wouldn’t she? Relief poured over me with each wave that crashed to the shore.

  I needed her to know.

  Now.

  “In all of the lifetimes we’ve spent together, Roam, I’ve never felt this way about you. Or anyone,” I urged. “I have loved you, but never thought it was possible to love you this much.”

  The smile that swept across her face filled my heart, lighting all the darkened corners and clearing the shadows of the past.

  “That’s a really beautiful… and dramatic… I love you,” she responded, so serious, and I grinned back at her, tightening my hold on her waist. “West, I love you, too,” she admitted.

  Soft. Resolved.

  She spoke, and I listened, and for hours we lay in the cottage together. I talked, she talked, and I made love to her with my entire soul.

  She asked me what my favorite song was. One cold night in January, 1962, I’d listened to Elvis’s voice on the radio…

  And I thought of her.

  I thought of the life Annie had spoken of, the one, the girl who would save the world with me…

  Who would save me.

  I was destined to play the fool, rushing into her every single time. I played the song and pulled her into my arms. We danced in the moonlight, naked, the sand beneath our feet allowing us to slide without too much effort.

  I wanted to dance with her, like this, forever. She lifted her eyes to mine. “No matter what happens, West… I just want to remember this. This moment. I want to dream about this,” she pleaded, and I caught a tear that slid from her eyes with my kiss.

  “You will,” I promised her.

  Praying.

  She was on edge throughout the plane ride the next day. I tried every way to distract her, even having stayed up after she slept the night before and filling her iPod with playlists. By the time we reached Rome, we both were filled with anxiety…

  And need.

  I must have tried the card key five times in the hotel room door. We had four hours for the layover, and as I kissed her hungrily, I knew how I was going to spend every second of our time.

  The door slammed, and time disappeared.

  I teased her with my touch, my mouth, until she was struggling, twisting beneath me and begging me. She held my face in her hands, staring into my eyes as I thrust, inviting me to search her soul as we made love.

  She wanted me to live inside of her, and there was nowhere else I’d rather be. Her pleading drove me insane; please, please, West, please, over and over, until I was coming just from h
er words.

  Her voice.

  We both knew. We knew this might be the last time we’d ever hold each other this way, and it was devastating.

  “I love you,” she cried, breaking apart in my arms and simultaneously succumbing to tears. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want Logan, I want you,” she sobbed.

  I was still inside of her as she said his name. Cursing, I rolled over, taking her with me so that she lay in my arms, against my chest. “Baby, don’t. Don’t think about him. Not right now.”

  “How can you just let me go back to him?”

  “I won’t,” I answered, incredulous. “You think that this is the end? That I’m going to just walk away?”

  “I… didn’t…,”

  “We need him as our ally right now, Roam. We’re not telling him. Not yet. It will kill me if you kiss him, I know that. But your safety means more to me than a couple of kisses.”

  “I love him, but not like I love you, West. I could never love him the way this feels,” she covered her heart with her hands, and I softened, turning into her hair.

  “I love you, Roam Camden. And I have for my entire life.”

  When we arrived in Russia, and Logan had his arms around her, I fought the fire burning in my gut. His dark eyes bored into mine with worlds of suspicion and accusation, and I tried to ignore him as we hurried to a taxi.

  We settled into a café, and Logan explained that we simply had to lower our arms- our numbers- into the fountain and we’d travel. We’d be in our past lives, but keep our minds when we moved through the door.

  Roam would be Julie.

  “You need to eat, Cam,” Logan was touching her hair, and I fought the urge to break his fingers. “We don’t know what we’re walking into. Troy may have traveled there already.”

  “Logan, I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat, Roam,” I ordered.

  She picked up her fork, and Logan’s dark brown gaze turned almost black. “What did the two of you do while you were gone?” He fired, looking between Roam and me.

  Condemning. This kid, this fucking soulless kid who’d killed my Annie- and my unborn child- stared at me like I was a fucking criminal.

  I snapped.

  “I filled her in on the past, and helped her through nightmares about you raping and killing her.”

  His self-indulgent temper flared, and he shot to his feet, nearly knocking the table over.

  “Stop! Please don’t make a scene. Logan, please,” Roam begged. “Please,” she repeated, whispering as she looked around the restaurant at the disturbed patrons.

  The kid’s fists clenched like he was going to go for me. I stared at him coolly. “I’m not going to fight you, Logan. I’m just stating the facts. You’ve had the nightmares, and you know what she’s dealing with.”

  “Let’s just get out of here and make a plan,” she looked to me, and I nodded. “Are we going to where Logan is staying, or…,”

  “Look at the way you trust him,” Logan growled, and Roam’s face whipped to him, shocked. “I’ve known you all of your life, and now you don’t trust me because of some dreams?” He turned and stormed out, and Roam chased after him.

  “Shit.” I dropped the cash to the table, gathering our bags. By the time I found them, near the entrance of a hotel, I could see his words on her face before I could hear him speaking them.

  “…watched it happen. I didn’t know it was you until you were… gone. You were blonde, and looked older… he was so angry, and punched you…,”

  “Enough!” I raged, turning to Logan.

  When I looked back at Roam, I could see the color draining from her face. Before Logan could reach for her, I swept her into my arms.

  When she still hadn’t come to by the time we reached Logan’s hotel room, I felt for her pulse.

  “She’s still not breathing- she never stops this long!” Logan shouted.

  “No… she is… she’s coming around,” I urged, smoothing her hair away from her face with my hands.

  Her eyes blinked, and then she was screaming.

  “No! No…,”

  “Shh,” I tried to comfort her, my heart breaking at her condemning, fearful gaze. “Roam…,”

  “No! I remember,” she cried.

  I winced as she balled her hand into a fist, punching me in the eye. Suddenly, she was holding her hand, crying.

  “Stop it!” I gripped her hands, pinning them. “Logan, get some ice…,”

  “I can’t believe you lied to me! I trusted you!” She looked around, confused, taking in the hotel room as Logan ran to the mini fridge.

  “I blamed myself, I suspected I’d done it, but I was never sure,” I managed, forcing her into my arms. “I’m so sorry Roam,” I whispered, against her ear, every part of me needing her forgiveness.

  “No,” she sobbed, trying to pull away. I let her go, aching to speak to her alone, to say exactly what I wanted to say out of Logan’s earshot.

  “Give me your hand,” he took her palm, wrapping a towel with ice around her fingers carefully. “You may have broken it. I can’t say it wasn’t completely worth it, though,” he added, shooting me a fuck-you glare.

  Ignoring him, I grabbed her hand, unfurling her fingers and then curling them into a fist again. She winced but didn’t cry out. By now, I could tell when she was in pain. “It’s not broken. Just don’t punch anything anymore- especially me. I’m immortal, remember? Punching is not effective.”

  “You feel pain,” she hissed, backing away from me as far as possible while I still held her hand in mine. “And if I can’t trap you, I may as well punch you until my hand breaks.”

  Julie. Julie’s fiery gaze, right there, at the worst possible moment. I turned toward the window. “I deserve that.”

  “They can be trapped?” Logan interrupted. “Immortals can be trapped? What does that mean?”

  “I mean they can be trapped,” I snapped, you fucking idiot. “Just not killed.”

  I dropped her hand to the bedspread.

  “Then why couldn’t we lure Troy through the fountain, and trap him in 1977?”

  She looked at Logan. “How would we do that?”

  “We destroy the door- we destroy the fountain.”

  My mind raced. I thought of the connections I had, the means, and the possibilities as I ran through a dozen scenarios. Maybe he’s not such a fucking idiot. “You’re suggesting we- what, blow up the fountain?” I began pacing, thinking. “How?”

  He talked about bringing materials through from the past, and I watched Roam cross the room and go into the bathroom.

  The soft click of the lock echoed through Logan’s words.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He knew I’d slept with her.

  I put Logan up in a different room for the night. We’d worked out a plan, only after he’d punched me himself- much harder than Roam had.

  It’d heal by tomorrow, but I had to hand it to the kid- he had some strength.

  I slipped into Roam’s hotel room, watching her even breathing as she lay on the bed. Every so often, she’d give a tiny sob in her sleep.

  Careful not to wake her, I lowered to the bed. I wanted to gather her fingers in mine, but I was sure I’d pull her out of her peaceful dreams.

  And I knew how rare those were.

  Sometime later, she was pushing me, and I roused at her voice. “West- West, wake up,” she urged, and I sat up quickly. “What are we doing first?”

  Her face was still tear-streaked, but her eyes were muted with controlled order. I cupped her face in my palms, turning her to lie beneath me. “First, I need you to forgive me. Please,” I whispered against her lips.

  When she nodded, no hesitation, no fear, I groaned, pressing my mouth to hers. I kissed her with gratitude, apologizing with every touch, every gentle caress. When I pulled away to look at her, I could barely see her through the darkness. “I never want to talk about it again,” she murmured. “The past is the past. Every life we’ve shared has had a t
errible ending. What you did was awful, but you weren’t yourself, I believe that.”

  I reached for the lamp. I had to see her; I had to see to believe she was truly forgiving me for what I’d done all those years ago… and for lying to her. She gasped, reaching for my face. “What happened to you?” she cried, tenderly brushing her fingertips over my eyes.

  “Logan said good-bye,” I answered, wincing. “It’ll heal.”

  “Did you hurt him?”

  I sighed. “No. I couldn’t. His anger had nothing to do with this prophecy- or our lives. It was just a guy pissed at another guy for sleeping with his girlfriend. I deserved it.”

  She lowered her eyes before I could watch them fill with tears. “I deserve the terrible things he said to me, too.”

  We sat in silence for a while.

  And suddenly, we were moving.

  I explained the plan. Go to the fountains, go through the door…

  And that was as much as I could tell her without scaring the hell out of her.

  The moment we passed through the fountain, I gripped her hand tighter, staring down at her.

  My god. Julie.

  I never thought I’d see her again. Her blonde hair, her smoky eyes… she looked the same as the day I’d last seen her.

  The day I’d killed her.

  “Do I look different? Am I her?” Roam asked, Roam, Roam is inside there. My little Roam.

  “Yes,” I managed, hurrying to a cab. “The Byway Motel,” I ordered, and the driver snorted.

  “That’ll costya, friend.”

  “No problem,” I patted my jeans, thankful my wallet had traveled. Everything on our person travels. Remember that.

  “I don’t even recognize my own hands- they are different,” she breathed, and then I watched her lower her eyes to her chest, gasping.

  “She high?” The driver accused.

  “No,” I answered, taking her hands in mine and squeezing them, reassuring. “Please put on the radio?”

  Dancing Queen filled the cab at my request. I turned and took her in, amazed at what was happening.

  We traveled. Into the past, through a fountain.