Roam (Roam Series, Book One)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  “I ran and ended up in West Virginia. It took time to sober up and realize what had happened. When I did, I found a job- fixing cars. After a while I met Laurel, and married her. We had Violet, but I knew time was running out. I just… knew. So I left- and you were born.”

  “What made you decide to get married and have a child?”

  “Honestly, Laurel did. I loved her very much.”

  “Oh.”

  He turned to me, cupping my chin in his hand. “In all of the lifetimes we’ve spent together, Roam, I’ve never felt this way about you. Or anyone,” he clarified, meaning Laurel. “I have loved you, but never thought it was possible to love you this much.”

  Smiling unabashedly, elation swept through me. “That’s a really beautiful- and dramatic- ‘I love you,’” I said seriously. He grinned. “West, I love you, too.” I admitted softly.

  He pushed me back over the sand, lacing his fingers through mine and kissing me soundly. In the little white cottage on the shore of Emerald Isle, West and I talked for hours. I told him about my mom, how close we were, and how devastating her death was to me. Morgan became a mother to me, a burden she wasn’t prepared for but accepted without hesitation. I admitted that, though history was my passion, I loved children very much and had wanted to teach when I was younger.

  “What made you change your mind?” he asked, tracing a finger along my naked hip and down my leg.

  “I really love working with young children- preschool and under. But there’s not much history you can teach them when they only know their parents.”

  He laughed whole-heartedly, his dazzling smile warming my mood.

  He told me more about his time without me, places he’d been, and some of the things he’d seen and done. “The centuries without you were difficult… especially the sixteen hundreds. I forgot my purpose more than once, doing some things that I regret. But I learned- a long time ago- to forgive myself, or else immortality would become unbearable.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I ordered, grinning.

  He rolled over to the nightstand and reached for his laptop. “Okay, I will. I’ll play you my favorite song. No peeking.”

  “Oh,” I sighed, covering my face with the pillow. I heard an advertisement on YouTube, and then the clicking of the mouse as he tried to skip it.

  Finally, the first tinkling notes of Elvis Presley’s I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You filled the room.

  I smiled at him as he pulled me from the bed and to my feet. The moonlight poured in the windows, with only the sound of the ocean behind the song. He wrapped his arms around me and held me before he began to sway.

  Dancing on the planked floor, both of us completely naked, I looked up at him. “No matter what happens, West… I just want to remember this. This moment. I want to dream about this,” I whispered, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes.

  He nodded, bending to kiss my lips. “You will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I slept through that night without dreaming. Sun poured through open window as West’s cell phone vibrated against the dresser. He reached for it, and I noticed he was already showered and dressed.

  “Yes. We’re leaving in an hour. Calm down. I know the things you’re dreaming are horrific- I get that. Yes she has the dreams. She doesn’t blame you, Logan, she knows it’s not you,” he turned to look at me and I pinched my eyes closed before he could tell that I was awake. “When we get off the plane, you’ll see she’s the same person you’ve always known. Any sign of Troy?” He paused, and I waited silently. “Good. Okay, see you soon.”

  Waiting an obligatory few minutes before blinking my eyes, I turned over and wrapped the sheet around myself. He bent to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Morning,” he hushed against my lips. “Breakfast and then back to the airport. We have a layover in Atlanta and then a layover in Italy. Nothing overnight, but the one in Rome is about four hours.”

  “Oh- okay,” I processed his words. “And Logan is safe?”

  West continued to pack his bag. “The dreams are getting to him. He’s disturbed by them.”

  I stared at my hands, my heart pounding with worry. What will I say to Logan? Hi, sorry you left me alone for three days; I couldn’t control myself and slept with West. Shame burned my cheeks. I can’t tell him. He’ll be devastated.

  “He’s going to know. You’re a terrible liar,” he brushed his hand through his hair, reading my mind. “We can’t let him know anything has changed. Let him believe that you’re his girlfriend for as long as possible. We can’t risk making him angry- he will hurt you, Roam.”

  I stiffened. “That’s not fair. He never did anything to hurt me…,”

  “Not yet.”

  “Stop,” I stood up, gathering the sheet around my body. With the edge in his tone, despite all that we had done with each other, I suddenly felt modest. “He’s just as much a part of this as I am. He’s risking his life. He could have walked away.”

  “Exactly. He didn’t, because of what he is. He can’t. He is as drawn to you as I am, but for the opposite reason.”

  “So it can’t be my enchanting self, it has to be the voodoo prophecy love magic or whatever,” I marched to the bathroom and slammed the door.

  “Roam!”

  “Shut up,” I ordered through the wood, knowing that I sounded about half my age- but not caring.

  “We don’t have time for a tantrum this morning. Get showered and dressed. We’re leaving in less than an hour.” Irritated.

  I did as he ordered. We left the island without speaking. An hour and a half later, as we were seated on another plane, he reached for my hand. “I’m sorry. I will stop being egotistical and think of you and how you feel. Do you forgive me?”

  Lifting my eyes, I couldn’t help but be surprised at his calm maturity. Logan would have pouted for days, stubbornly waiting for my apology. I nodded. “Of course I do. I just don’t want to hurt someone I love.”

  West, still holding my hand, kissed my forehead. “I’ll go easier on him. I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  Take-off was turbulent, different from the first flight. We were in the air no longer than fifteen minutes before the anxiety crept in. West managed to stay seated during the changing of the numbers; I held his hands, talking to him, then brushed the damp hair at his neck as it ended. The coordinates were for Russia.

  I took a deep breath, staring out the window to calm my nerves.

  “Last night, after you fell asleep, I filled your iPod with your first music lesson.” He held my iPod in his hand, raising an eyebrow. “It’s time you met the nineties music. Roam, this is the nineties. Nineties, Roam.”

  I giggled; I couldn’t help it. West was rarely silly, but over the past two days, I met a side of him that I hoped would stick around. “Nice to meet you, strange and unusual decade.”

  “Oh- that hurt,” he feigned an ache in his heart, holding his chest. “You’re going to avoid the shuffle option- it will overwhelm you. Each playlist starts with 1990 and takes you to 1999. We’re going to start with a number one hits overview. Ready?”

  I grinned. “Sure…?”

  “Good. Occasionally I will borrow an ear bud and ask what you think. I expect honest and thoughtful answers.”

  I smirked. I knew he was trying desperately to distract me. Appreciating his efforts, I accepted the iPod.

  “Yes, Mr. Perry.”

  “Notepad, pen. Notes,” he offered a notepad with the airline’s logo printed on it with a matching pen.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “The flight attendant liked me.” A lascivious smile and wink had me rolling my eyes.

  “Oh, please.” I stuffed my ear buds into my ears. Resting my head on his shoulder, I settled into the music, thankful for the distraction.

  Occasionally he’d try to steal at glance at my notes (which I took in abundance) but I hid them from his cheating eyes. He never tried to listen, but was amused
with my face as I did. The flight to Atlanta lasted a little over an hour. Once seated in the airport for our layover, he held his hand out eagerly. “Well?”

  “Okay. I made it through about twenty songs- had to skip a couple. Madonna’s Vogue was fun but… eh. MC Hammer, Naughty by Nature, LL Cool J, Digital Underground, and House of Pain- I’ve heard all of those ones, they’re classics. Alice in Chains and Metallica- not a chance. Red Hot Chili Peppers… I may get used to that. Mariah Carey- way different than what I’m used to from her. I am undecided with Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit.” I drew a giant question mark next to Nirvana. “Pearl Jam- um, no. I felt U2’s One was haunting- and hit a little too close to home.”

  “I agree with U2. However, we will discuss your Pearl Jam and Metallica rejection at another time. I’ll let Alice in Chains slide. Continue.”

  Exasperated, I crossed off my notes as I went. “Dr. Dre will remain on my iPod. Radiohead- loved, would like to hear more of their work. En Vogue- they just seem really mad, I don’t know why..,”

  He laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee and sitting back to drape his arm over me.

  “Soundgarden, Oasis, and Counting Crows- mildly enjoyable, but I think I fell asleep.” I clicked the pen closed.

  “So you’re almost to 1995. It gets better. Now, general impression of the decade?”

  “It was strange hearing a bunch of songs without random rap interludes.” He grinned. “But… I like it. I don’t know about it being the best decade for music ever, but I’m only halfway through.”

  “Undecided. I’ll take it. Now, let’s grab something to eat.”

  We ate at Subway in the airport. Once we were boarded for Italy, he suggested that I sleep. I didn’t need his encouragement; my eyes were heavy by the time we took off in Atlanta. I slept most of the ten hour flight to Rome, looking unbelievably at the time when I finally jolted awake. “I slept- I didn’t dream at all! I can’t believe I slept for so long…,”

  “Calm down, you didn’t miss anything. I slept a little, too. We both needed it.”

  “I have to use the bathroom- are we almost ready to land?”

  “An hour. Hold it or experience an airplane stall for the first time?” I contemplated; there was no question. The airplane bathroom wasn’t as difficult as I expected. When I returned, he met me with a deep kiss, knotting his fingers into my hair to tilt my head back. “I need you,” he whispered, sending shivers through every nerve in my body. I nodded, breathless in silent agreement.

  Once we landed in Rome, West checked us in to a room at the airport Hilton for the four hour layover. We barely made it to the door of our room before he pulled me close, his mouth claiming mine.

  Somehow he fought with the key card to open the door, and in moments we found the bed. The force of his lovemaking chased away my dark thoughts of Troy, and what I would say to Logan when I finally reached Russia. We clung to each other, silently acknowledging that this may be the last time we would be together in this way.

  The two hour and thirty minute flight to St. Petersburg filled me with fear. As we began circling the airport, knowing Logan was waiting below, my knuckles cracked as I wrung my fingers together. Thoughts of Logan, our life, him asking me to marry him in the parking lot at the school… The ringing in my ears began just as West grabbed me by my shoulders.

  “Roam, stop! You’re white as a ghost… baby, please, I’m not saying a word to him, and he doesn’t have to know.”

  “I am immoral,” I sobbed, my breath coming too fast as tears burned my eyes. “I’ve already hurt him, and I can’t change it… and I don’t want to change it if it means taking back the time I’ve spent with you. It just doesn’t make sense anymore,” I cried, trying to keep my voice down. Several passengers turned around to stare, and I could hear their judgmental thoughts from my seat in the back of the plane. Another affair, another drama… some things never change.

  “Get it together,” he brushed my tears with his thumbs, holding my face in his palms to look me firmly in the eyes. “You can’t walk up to Logan and confess all of this. You feel guilty, and you think confessing will make your guilt go away. It won’t, it will only anger and hurt him, and then we lose him as our ally. Cry all you want- you are happy to see him. But do not tell him.”

  “I won’t,” I promised. His sobering words helped me get a handle on myself, and by the time we walked down the corridor to our gate, I was more in control. We kept a distance, not touching in any way. This is how it has to be, I realized. Longing replaced the guilt in my heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Logan was waiting by our gate. I locked eyes with him, not believing it was actually him. He appeared older and had dark circles under his eyes. Just as handsome as he’d always been, he still drew the gaze of a group of Italian girls exiting the gate. Without a glance their way or a spoken word, he hurried to me, his arms encircling me before I had time to think.

  “Camden… God I missed you,” he spoke into my hair.

  West watched him coolly, his jaw tightening. I knew he wanted to pull Logan away, but he restrained himself- for me. “I missed you so much, Logan,” I whispered.

  He pulled away and bent to kiss me. My betraying lips, still swollen from West’s kisses in the hotel hours before, sent me into near hysterics. I tried to reciprocate but ended up backing away, looking around the crowed airport anxiously.

  “We have to get out of here- I can’t stand this crowd, he could be anywhere,” I pleaded with them both. Logan reached for my bag, but West already had it in his hands.

  “We need to talk to Logan about his experience, and then we’re going to the fountain. Logan, where are you staying?” West’s authoritative tone put me at ease, but when I looked at Logan, my stomach clenched.

  “You’re going to stay away from her,” Logan hissed, leading me out of the airport. I struggled to keep up with him, West never leaving my side.

  “We’re working together,” West shot him a pointed glare, ushering us toward the doors that lead outside. “We’ve been traveling for almost thirty hours. Jet lag is going to set in pretty soon, and we need to make our plans, eat, and get ready.”

  Logan ignored him, leading me to a vehicle along the curb with the word “taksi” printed on the roof. “Laima,” Logan spoke to the driver.

  I glanced at West, confused. “It’s a restaurant,” he assured me, assisting the driver with our bags. “Logan, be calm.”

  “We’ll talk after she eats. She looks like she hasn’t eaten in days. I knew I should have stayed with her,” he barked, seating me between him and the window. It took seconds to realize that was a bad idea.

  “I’ll sit in the middle, because the last thing we need is for you two to start throwing fists. And stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

  “My hotel is right around the corner from the restaurant.” Logan mentioned, to no one in particular.

  Logan gripped my hand while West did his best not to touch me. I turned to Logan. “What did my dad say when you told him?”

  “He barely had time to say anything. I told him, and he said it didn’t make sense for us to run, that he loved us both and supported us. I hung up.” I could tell how difficult it must have been for him to hang up on my dad; they were so close, and my dad was a military hero to him. I squeezed his hand.

  “I’m sorry. I know that wasn’t easy. You said you were gone a day, but here it was only a few minutes? Maybe we can do what we can in 1977 to change things, and be back in Ohio before dad has time to…,”

  “There’s nothing you can do to change things,” Logan turned to West, his eyes fierce with hostility. “I guess he hasn’t told you all about 1977.”

  “She knows about it. I told her.” West shifted slightly to look at Logan in the small taxi. The taxi took a corner, and I slid into Logan’s lap. He gripped me securely.

  “You didn’t tell her, or I guarantee she wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”

  As we rode, I cr
aned my head around both of them, looking out the window. A series of buildings, all stone apartments in various heights, were built next to each other with no space between. The colors were earth shades with an occasional mint green or yellow mixed in. A massive, rock arch loomed ahead. “The Narva Arch… it was erected as a memorial in 1814, designed to greet the soldiers who were returning from their victory over Napoleon…,” I caught West smirking at me, and I sat back in my seat. “Never mind.”

  The bistro appeared around the next corner. West paid the fare, and Logan indicated to the waiter that we wanted a private booth. I slid in next to Logan, and West sat across from us. The waitress who took our order spoke English with a thick Russian accent.

  “Okay, Logan, please tell me,” I said, my fingers shaking as I reached for the glass of water.

  He turned to me. “When we go to the fountains, there is a paved walkway for tourists. There are over sixty-four fountains, hundreds of bronze statues, and tons of other decorative stuff. I went there just to get an idea of the layout of the place,” he tensed suddenly, as if in pain.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Anyway, I thought I’d get myself thrown in prison if I tried to jump the hedges to get to some of the fountains, so I didn’t try. You could walk right up to some of the fountains. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I just dipped my arm in the water- the arm with the numbers- and that was it. I was gone.”

  “Where did you find yourself?” West asked him, as if he was studying a science experiment.

  “April 14, 1977. Atlanta, Georgia.”

  “And were you in your own body, or did you feel that you had entered into someone else’s life?”

  “I definitely was not myself. I had blonde hair, and was a couple inches shorter.”

  “Where did you arrive, and how did you return?”

  Logan glared at him, obviously reluctant to help him in any way. “I came out in some fountain in Atlanta, in a park. I went back the same way- by dipping the numbers in the fountain.”