“Don’t scream,” he warned.
Ten minutes into the air, the tingling began. He locked his hand in mine, and his bone-crushing grip on my fingers helped to distract me through the burning change.
West had been right. Controlling pain took time.
He was right about everything.
We spent the layovers in the airports, watching the news of the bombings. Several stations were calling the event an act of terrorism, but often an expert would chime in to say that the bombings appeared to be the work of one privately funded activist group.
I watched on splintered nerves, waiting for some mention of us, or West. All the televisions in the airport repeated the same information over and over again.
I spoke very little to Logan and Violet through the entire flight, longing for sleep. Tears came again and again, and I forced myself not to cry.
At some point, I woke from a dreamless sleep, realizing that West was truly gone.
Silent, wracking sobs consumed me, and I gripped my hands, trying to control my heartache. The time that we spent at the shore, his touch, the taste of his mouth, all the memories of him were more upsetting than any of the terrifying nightmares that I had experienced.
I began to realize that he was not coming back.
Logan left me alone, sitting behind me with Violet. I stared out the window, as far away from the passenger next to me as possible.
I heard them talking softly to each other, Logan answering as many of her questions as he could. After he told her of the prophecy, Violet boldly asked him if I was pregnant now.
I froze, holding my breath while waiting for his answer.
“Maybe,” he murmured.
I could feel his dark eyes on me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At the Cleveland-Hopkins Airport, we found West’s SUV. Logan’s Camry was only a row away. I pulled the keys out of West’s backpack, and Logan loaded our bags into the trunk of his car.
Sometime during the flight, Logan had offered West’s Pilot to Violet to drive back to Virginia. He gave her a handful of cash and the keys, making arrangements for her to call him as soon as she made it safely home.
They stood next to his SUV, and I watched as he hugged her.
“Thank you, Logan,” she whispered, and I could hear the emotion in her voice.
When he kissed her cheek, unreasonable jealousy surfaced, and I turned away, my stomach churning.
Logan isn’t mine anymore.
“I’ll drive,” I said as she pulled away, and Logan looked ready to argue with me. “I’m okay, just let me drive,” I insisted, meeting his superior glare.
“After surviving all of this, I’m not going to let you get us into a car accident. You can’t stop crying. Move over.”
At the fresh tears that his words forced to my eyes, I realized that he was right.
In forty-five minutes, we were parked in front of my house. It was Saturday afternoon, and my dad’s car was in the open garage.
Neither of us had spoken during the entire drive. I realized then that we should have been discussing what we were going to say to my father.
Finally, I turned to him. “I’ll tell my dad that we… broke up.”
He was silent for a moment, staring straight ahead.
After a defeated sigh, he spoke without turning my way. “Tell him that I’ll support the baby. If there is one.”
It killed him to say the words, and I knew it.
There was no expression of gratitude that would suffice, and I forced myself to stay calm, remaining silent.
Finally, Logan shot a heated glance my way. “I can’t even imagine looking your father in the eye right now, but it disgusts me to just drop you off and drive away.”
“You don’t have to,” I assured him, reaching for the door.
Finally, Logan sighed, jerking his door open.
As he walked up the sidewalk to the front door, I realized just how loyal he truly was, and my heart broke for him.
Shaking, I followed, feeling very much like a wayward, runaway child. After the disrespect I’d shown my father, I decided to knock.
When he opened the door, his face flashed from pain to relief as he focused on us.
I was lifted from the step and into his arms in seconds, his familiar, loving touch threatening more tears.
“I’m never letting you leave this house again,” he said gruffly, tears thick in his own voice.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried, clinging to him.
“Sit. Both of you.” I knew he was glaring at Logan as he held me.
An hour later, Logan had left, and I was in my own room, West’s backpack next to mine.
You will take care of this baby, young man, my dad’s voice echoed throughout my exhausted mind. Don’t think for one second your responsibility ends because the two of you broke up.
I cringed, pressing my face against the pillow. I understand that, sir. I’ll take care of Roam. I already promised her that I would.
My reunion with Morgan that evening was not as kind as the one with my father. Morgan had left campus the moment that my father called her and stopped only once to receive a speeding ticket an hour from the house.
“If you ever disrespect me or Dad like that again, Roam Eva Camden, you’ll regret it,” she cried before breaking into tears and smothering me in a desperate hug.
“I already regret it,” I whispered, pressing my face to her shoulder.
“Good. Now go to your room. I’m making you an appointment for the doctor, and we’re getting you back to school on Tuesday morning. Thank God you only missed a week.”
“Have you heard from…Reed?” I asked, barely able to say Troy’s last name.
Morgan narrowed her eyes. “Screw that bastard.”
I took that as a no.
My transition back to school was easier than I’d expected. My father had worked something out with the principal to avoid any kind of consequence for my truancy, given my excellent academic record.
First period history was taken over by a substitute that I’d recognized from previous years.
“What happened to Mr. Perry?” I asked Michelle as the bell rang.
She shrugged, engrossed in her phone. “He quit about the same time you took off with Logan.”
I sat back in my seat, staring at the board.
My dad arranged for a meeting the following Saturday with Logan and his parents, and they arrived Saturday afternoon. I hadn’t spoken to Logan since the day that we returned, avoiding him in the hallways and taking the bus home each day.
I felt myself slipping into an unavoidable depression but made no effort to claw my way out of the sadness that took over the moment that I woke up each morning. I resolved to disappear into that void in my mind, longing for the comfortable emptiness that made each night more manageable when I fell into my bed, missing West.
My nights, thankfully, were dreamless.
Mr. Rush did little to mask the hostility in his eyes as we sat down in the formal living room. I’d never been as close to Logan’s father as I had been with his mother, but even his mother sat as far away from me as possible and avoided making eye contact with me.
I wished Morgan could have been there, but she had finally found a job and was working all weekend.
Mrs. Rush began the conversation by jumping straight to the point. “How do you know that you’re pregnant, Roam? Have you seen a doctor?” she asked, her voice comforting.
I tried not to squirm in my seat like a chastised child. “I some symptoms… I have an appointment in two weeks,” I stumbled, my voice trembling. I twisted my hands in my lap, trying to focus on my fingers.
At that moment, my betraying mind decided to remember West taking my hand in the cottage, asking me to dance with him in the silvery moonlight.
I covered my mouth, anxiety taking over. Logan watched me carefully, finally standing and walking across the room to me. He lowered next to me on the loveseat, taking my hands in his. On
ly then did I realize that I’d twisted them in my lap so violently that deep, half-moon cuts appeared on palms from my fingernails.
I looked up at him.
Logan caught me off guard, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We didn’t plan this, but we can plan everything else going forward. The baby should be born before her eighteenth birthday, and she will still be covered under Mr. Camden’s insurance.”
I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t even thought about the expense involved in hospital fees and a delivery.
Logan wrapped his arm around me. “I’ll pay any co-pays or medical costs that aren’t covered. I still plan to leave for boot camp in August of next year. And Roam,” he said, commanding my attention, “that means that you might not be able to go away to college,” he reminded me as gently as he could.
“Assuming that you keep the baby,” Mr. Rush broke in. “There are other options-”
“There is only one option,” Logan interrupted firmly, his dark eyes blazing. “No matter what, this baby comes first.”
I knew that my dad’s pride in Logan quadrupled at that moment as I watched his eyes shine on both of us.
Mr. Rush lowered his gaze. “And there’s no chance the two of you will make up? Being together… and married, eventually… will make raising this child so much easier.”
My father and Mrs. Rush nodded in agreement, and I kept my eyes focused on the floor.
Marry me… Logan’s words in the parking lot of the school came rushing back. I took that moment to realize how much I had taken his love for granted. Deep inside, I knew that he’d always be there for me.
But he isn’t the one.
The man that I loved was lost in time, and I had no idea if I’d ever see him again.
Logan cleared his throat. “We’re committed to caring for the baby. It’s not practical to expect us to get married. We’re not in love with each other, but we are responsible for our actions.”
Logan’s words hung in the room, cold and final.
The meeting was over, and I knew that everyone left more unsettled than before.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The following week, I kept up with the news of the bombings in Russia. CNN aired permanently on the television in the living room, and I was online constantly, searching for the slightest indication that West had returned.
There were still no strong suspects, but fingers were pointed in every direction. I moaned to see footage of the condition of the fountains now. Once regal, the beautiful piece of Russian history was reminiscent of the post-September eleventh photos of New York.
The fountains were drained…
Indefinitely.
It didn’t occur to me until much later in the week to search for Julie Henry again. After multiple searches, I found absolutely nothing about her, not even on the cold-case site I’d found before. Her murder records no longer existed.
It was as though she never existed.
If we traveled back through the fountain, did that life cease to exist?
The past is obdurate.
I gathered enough courage to borrow my dad’s car and drive to West’s house.
It looked the same as when we had left. Sitting in the driveway, I wondered how Violet was handling everything, and if she was keeping in touch with Logan.
I held West’s keys in my hand but couldn’t bring myself to go into his house.
Not yet.
I only saw Logan once that following week. He appeared at my locker with an appointment card. “You have a personal trainer to teach you kickboxing and self-defense. All sessions are paid for. Show up,” he ordered.
I took the card from him, lifting my eyes to his.
“Thank you.”
He had already turned to walk away.
A week later, he found me at my locker again after school, handing me a new phone. “It’s on my plan and paid for. I need to be able to keep in touch with you outside of school.”
I stiffened, finally drudging up an ounce of pride. “I can get a new phone myself.”
“Take it, Cam.”
At his familiar nickname for me, I softened, sighing and accepting the phone.
He left again without saying goodbye.
Two days later, sitting in the school library, I received my first text from him.
Logan Rush: Do you want me to come to the doctor with you?
He’d entered his full name as my contact. My emotions that I’d so carefully kept in check over the past two weeks nearly crumbled at the cool distance he’d put between us. My doctor’s appointment was after school, and as much as I wanted him there with me, I didn’t.
Not this him.
Me: No thank you. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Morgan waited for me at the curb after school. I listened to her talk as she drove to the doctor’s office, running my fingers over the coordinates on my arm. “Any nausea? Vomiting? Aversions to food?”
“No. Maybe. I’m just not hungry.”
“You’ve lost so much weight,” she chided with a sigh, pulling onto the highway. “Dad says you never leave your room. Roam, I’m sorry, I know that this is hard. You and Logan have been together forever.”
“Morgan, I really don’t want to talk about it. Please,” I begged. She glanced my way, and then back to the road.
“Okay.”
Once inside the office, I waited in an empty seat by the door. Two very pregnant women read through magazines, one stopping every several seconds to encourage her toddler to keep playing some game on her phone.
A brunette nurse in scrubs appeared in the doorway with a folder, calling into the waiting room. “Roam Camden.”
I stood nervously, Morgan close at my heels.
I took a deep breath and turned to her, shaking my head.
“Please wait for me here,” I told her, and she narrowed her eyes.
“I’ll come back with you-”
“I need to do this alone,” I whispered.
She pursed her lips and sat down, finally nodding.
I followed the nurse, complying with her request to step on the scale. She moved the bar back and forth several times before recording my weight on the chart.
“One hundred and five pounds. You’re underweight for five-six.” She shook her head, sending a pitiful glance my way that forced me to stiffen.
I followed her to an examination room. “The doctor will be in soon. There’s a paper gown on the table, and it opens in the front,” she added, smiling curtly before closing the door.
I neatly folded my jeans, shirt, and underwear on the chair next to the table. After figuring out the paper gown, I lowered to the table and waited.
The fluorescent light in the ceiling hummed, and I closed my eyes, trying to imagine West next to me.
He would have been holding my hand, touching me, always touching me. He never let a moment pass without making me feel his presence, letting me know how much I was adored.
How much he loves me.
After what seemed like an eternity, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” I called, my voice breaking. A woman breezed in, very petite with dark, curly hair and glasses.
“I’m Dr. Fairfield, nice to meet you, Roam,” she said, and I accepted her outstretched hand. “This is your first time to the gynecologist?” she asked.
I sat up awkwardly, wrapping the paper robe around me. “I… I’ve never been… yes,” I stumbled finally.
“And you suspect that you are pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Last period... August thirteenth,” she read from her chart. “How long have you been sexually active?”
I lowered my eyes. “A month.”
She nodded, and I thought I heard her sigh. “Okay. I’ll examine you, we’ll do a few tests, and eventually some blood work,” she added. “Is there anyone here with you?” she asked softly, and as I lifted my eyes to hers, trying to still my trembling hands.
“My sister,” I managed.
I felt
my chin quiver, and I gripped the paper table cover desperately.
The doctor kept her eyes on me. “Okay, hon. And the father?” she asked, smoothing my hand with hers.
“No,” I answered, sniffling. I tried to say more, but it was too hard to speak and control my breakdown at the same time.
“Okay,” she said, her calming voice helping a little. She handed me a tissue, patting my hand again. “Do you need a few minutes?”
“No, I need to know,” I answered tearfully.
She nodded, moving toward the sink in the room. “Alright, Roam. Let’s take a look.”
A few minutes later, after a thorough and slightly uncomfortable exam, she stood, pulling the gown over my knees.
“Roam, we’ll talk in a few minutes, okay? I need to see one other patient, and I’ll be right back in.”
“Okay,” I said, fighting a wave of dizziness as I sat up again. I shifted uncomfortably on the table, glancing around the room.
When the door opened again, I watched as the doctor pushed a machine into the room. “Lie back down, not done yet,” she called, almost cheerfully. As she pushed the machine to the wall and plugged in the cord, I leaned back on the table, confused.
“An ultrasound?” I clarified.
“Let’s take a peek,” she confirmed, pressing some buttons before turning to me. “This is an internal ultrasound. Everything okay?” she asked, shifting the gown away from my legs again.
“I… yes,” I stuttered, wincing as she inserted the internal device. With her other hand, she pressed a few buttons, and a strange sound filled the room.
The noise made me think of the sound of the world from underwater. I turned, watching the screen next to me. I’d seen an ultrasound done in movies, but having one done to me was unreal.
“This is your uterus. This tiny black spot here… see this? This is your baby,” she explained, drawing an onscreen arrow that pointed to the dark bubble.
My heart thudded to a stop.
“My baby?”
“I see early signs of a heartbeat, which is unusual for only about four weeks. You’ve got a strong one in there,” she said, moving the wand slightly. “I’m only seeing one, no multiples.”
With that, she pulled the wand away and printed something from the machine.
Roam (Roam Series, Book One) Page 24