Fall (Roam Series, Book Two)

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Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) Page 21

by Kimberly Adams


  “Christmas roses,” he explained. “I planted them for you after your mother died.” His quiet words warmed me deep beneath the layers of his coat and my sweatshirt. “I watched you, at her funeral. It was worse than watching you have the nightmares. I couldn’t comfort you, and you were so young. Your dad was just broken.”

  He drew me against him, and I pressed my face against his shirt. “It was cold that day like today. I saw Morgan turn to you and tug your coat around your face, buttoning the first button near your neck before she hugged you. I knew then that you’d be okay, and I respected Morgan from that moment.”

  He took a step back, reaching into his pocket. I watched him kneel on one knee in the snow, taking my hands in his.

  “Roam Eva Camden.” His eyes moistened at my middle name, and my breath caught in my chest. “Of all of the times that I’ve asked to be your husband, I’ve never wanted you more than this.” He pressed his lips to the back of my hand in a courtly manner, his incredible blue eyes silently drawing me in. “Will you marry me?”

  The ring that he held in his hand was platinum, with a square-cut diamond that caught the sunset like the roses did. I nodded, unable to speak, as he slid the ring onto my finger.

  “I’m going to require an official ‘yes.’” He repeated his words from the gas station in 1955. I nodded again, tears sliding down my cheeks on their own accord.

  “Yes,” I agreed, my breathy laughter making him grin from ear to ear. He stood up, and I rushed forward to brush the leaves and snow off his pant leg. He laughed, gathering me into his arms.

  His mouth was warm on mine as the sun left us and turned the snowy night into bitter cold. He talked about the future the entire way back to his house. He’d marry me as soon as I graduated high school, and we’d try again for children after college. I listened, gazing at the ring on my finger through the darkness. His unspoken words were deafening in my mind.

  If we made it home.

  I spent the night with him, sharing West’s proposal with Morgan on the phone. She promised to cover for me for the night only after she finished screaming with excitement over the phone. “I’m researching wedding dresses tonight,” she promised.

  Thursday night I spent at home. I wanted to keep my ring with me, but not on my finger, so I threaded it through a silver chain from my jewelry box and wore it under my sweater.

  On Friday, I watched West move through the classroom as he passed out the chapter tests that we were scheduled to take. The normalcy was almost laughable. By that time the next day, we’d be in another world, armed with weapons, not knowing if we’d come out alive.

  Logan drove that morning to pick up Violet, and they were due to arrive around eleven that night. I asked Morgan to drop me off at West’s house, despite his request that I stay at home while he took care of Troy. When I asked him what he planned to do, his answer was both gratifying and horrifying.

  He wanted to speak to Troy, one last time, before he sealed him in a concrete grave.

  Sitting at the kitchen counter, I watched him shoulder bags of dry concrete to take into the basement. “I still have no guilt,” I said, under my breath.

  He paused, turning slightly my way. “Then maybe you’re more like me than I realized.”

  In the basement, West had constructed a long, wooden box, deep enough for Troy to be completely submersed in the concrete tomb. I started to follow him down. “Can I help?”

  “You can help by staying out of the basement.” He planned to inject him with a tranquilizer before encasing him in the concrete.

  I moved the top stair, out of sight, listening to Troy’s voice as he rambled on. After almost a half an hour, West appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He held a syringe in his hand, focused on me. “He’s tied to the bars. He asked that you inject him. I told him to go fuck himself, but after further consideration, I thought maybe you’d like this opportunity to end this.”

  I kept his even gaze for a few seconds, considering his words.

  Closure.

  I stood up, brushing my palms against my jeans.

  “I do.”

  I followed him down into the basement. Troy was tied to the bars in the exact same manner as he was when I stabbed him with the screwdriver. I took a deep breath, meeting his icy blue eyes.

  West handed me syringe. “In the neck,” he said.

  Nodding, I moved toward him. Troy watched me, unblinking.

  I jerked when he opened his mouth to speak to me. “Roam,” he said, as though just seeing me for the first time. I ignored him, my hand shaking so badly I almost dropped the syringe.

  “Last words?” I tried to sound taunting, but my voice wavered and cracked.

  He nodded, his eyes sunken. His skin was thin and hung from his face. “You can’t pass through the door without me.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I don’t care for your company, so….” My voice trembled as tension tightened my chest.

  “Do it.” West stared at the needle in my hand.

  “I rule there. You will be slaughtered the moment you pass through. Without me, you will die. All of you.” He looked at West. “We are not immortal there.”

  In the week of nightmares about the horrors that might wait for us on the other side, I’d never imagined that West could die. I turned to him, watching his expression go from irritated to furious.

  West grabbed my wrist and thrust the needle forward into Troy’s neck. Cringing, Troy stared at me, his eyes never leaving my face.

  “Not your problem when you’re breathing concrete,” West growled, holding his thumb over mine and forcing the tranquilizer into his bloodstream.

  “I didn’t warn you clearly… about your baby… for the water.” His pupils began to dilate. “You will be massacred by my army. They guard… the door. Roam…” He blinked slowly, unfocused. “You will fall.”

  His chin tipped to his chest.

  I stumbled backward, the syringe sliding out of my fingers and striking the ground. My nightmare, in the room of mirrors…

  You will fall.

  My sister... Jason, Violet…

  Logan.

  “It’s logical, what he says,” I said, staring wide-eyed at West. “If we were so hated in the kingdom for treason, then we’re walking into a massacre.”

  “Even if we took him with us, he’d betray us the moment that we crossed over.”

  “Not if we have something that he wants.” I backed to the cold, concrete wall, covering my stomach, almost expecting it to still be rounded and hard. Concave once again, it had already returned to the way it was before. “We’ll trade him. Laurel… for me.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” He continued pouring the powdered concrete into the box.

  “Can you protect me?” I focused on Troy’s slack body as it hung from the bars. “Once we get Laurel back, can you save me?”

  He stopped, dropping the bag into the box and standing up straight. His forearms tensed, the numbers darkened over his muscles. I saw his mind working as his jaw stiffened. “Goddamnit!” he cursed, glancing back at Troy, and then to me.

  “West…?”

  “Roam, if he’s telling the truth…” He walked to me, and I lifted my face to his. “He warned us once. I don’t know why. I can’t lose you… and I owe it to Violet to save her mother.”

  “I will convince him to cooperate. I will tell him that my life is… over… without my daughter, anyway,” I said. “And when we cross and get Laurel, I’ll tell him that I’ll stay with him.”

  He brushed his hands against his sides. “I just gave him enough drugs to kill an elephant. We’ll sleep tonight and leave in the morning.”

  When Logan and Violet arrived, West began laying out weapons, clothing, and bags for all of us. Morgan and Jason pulled in around midnight.

  West spoke to all of us, his eyes focused on me.

  “Once Troy has Roam, I will not stop until
I get her back. None of us are guaranteed to leave there alive. If we are taken over by his army, and we are stripped of our weapons, I will fight with my hands. I will not stop. Anyone who wants to leave, this is it. This is your last chance.”

  I waited, my throat constricting. When no one moved, West nodded.

  “We’ll leave by eight.” He continued loading bullets into a large duffel bag.

  The evening grew somber. By three AM, I could barely keep my eyes open. My throat was sore, and I wondered if I was coming down with something.

  Logan finished packing the heavy magazines into his own bag, moving to me on the couch. “Cam, you need to sleep. Morgan and Violet are already in bed.” West had offered them the two other bedrooms upstairs.

  Jason tried on a pair of thick, combat boots. “If I remember right, when you slept over with Ally and went to bed too late, you got a little crazy in the morning.”

  “Crazy meaning evil,” Logan agreed, and I laughed softly, closing my eyes and resting my head on Logan’s shoulder.

  “Remember when you two were convinced you could stay up for two straight nights over Christmas break? When was that…?” Jason looked upward to the ceiling, as if remembering. “Sixth, seventh grade?”

  “We did it,” I defended tiredly, and Logan smoothed my hair, smiling.

  His fingers threaded through mine. West watched us, zipping his bag and placing it next to the door. “Logan, I’m going to take her upstairs. Would you finish up here with Jason?”

  “Yep.” He squeezed my hand. I managed to climb to my feet, walking to the stairs.

  My head barely touched the pillow before I was out.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The ice castle again.

  Logan kneels next to me in an imposing throne room, wearing the thick, velvet clothing I’ve come to recognize from this place. My hands are bound, and so are his.

  Troy sits before us, maliciously drawing his fingertips up and down a sword handle.

  “Brother.” Logan’s voice is very much like his own now, just slightly deeper. “I beg you, forgive me. She is a witch. She enchants.”

  I glare at him. Coward!

  “That, she is.” He slowly rises to his feet, walking to us with the sword. The strange lighting in the castle reflects off the sword, throwing bright beams around the floor where I kneel. “Roam, do you deny conspiring for my death?”

  “Cut me loose,” I order, my dark, blue gown pooling around me. “Cut me loose and give me a sword. Make this even.”

  “Bitch.”

  He slaps me, again the left side of my face. He is right-handed, I realize, making a mental note. The pain is like before, but this time, Logan does not try to stop him.

  “That is your downfall. You will never be my equal. You will never rule,” he hisses, spittle touching my swollen lips with his proximity to my face. I turn my face to the side, cringing.

  “West!” he shouts, pinching my chin and forcing my face back to his. From the shadows near the throne, West emerges.

  His heavy boots strike the cold, slate floor, and I lift my eyes to see him. A crest adorns his surcoat, and I focus on his thick gloves. “Majesty?” he responds to Troy.

  “Release my brother. As for my queen…” He spews the word queen like vomit from his mouth. “Sixteen lashes… one for every year of her wretched existence.”

  I watch West unsheathe his sword, slicing through Logan’s ropes. Logan is on his feet and at his brother’s side in moments. West turns to me, and I hold out my hands, waiting.

  “I’ll see that she is punished,” he responded obediently, slicing through my ropes.

  I pinch my eyes closed, concentrating.

  “She prays to the devil,” Logan accuses me. I scowl at him, reaching beneath my dress to find what I am looking for.

  On my feet, I extend my arms, aiming the Glock at Troy’s head. He staggers and steps back.

  “What is this?”

  He’s never seen a gun. I press my thumbs together, lean forward, and squeeze.

  And I do not flinch.

  . . .

  “Roam… oh, baby, your cheek.” West smoothed my hair from my eyes, turning my face as I struggled to pull away from the nightmare. “Your nose is bleeding.”

  “He’s right-handed… and they he didn’t know what guns were… and I think I can use a sword,” I murmured, reaching for my eye. My head throbbed near my temple.

  “Hold still.” He returned from the bathroom in seconds, pressing a cool washcloth to my eye. “He hit you.”

  “Into tomorrow,” I remarked drily, my morning voice low and raspy. West was not amused by my quip as he pressed his lips to mine tenderly, careful not to hurt me.

  “A sword?”

  “I felt confident that I could use one. In 1955, I could sing… Annie could sing. But here, I can’t carry a note. So maybe I can use a sword.” I knew I was rambling, but the sunlight streaming in the window and catching West’s eyes was quickly chasing away the details of the nightmare.

  He continued to blot beneath my nose, adjusting the pillow and tipping my head back. “Would you like me to go down to the basement again and kill him in your honor?”

  I twisted beneath his warm torso, my bare legs brushing his sides. “No. I would like you to do something else.”

  His lips curled into a smirk, and he reached beneath the sheet to lightly trace my side, from my hip to my neck. “And that is?”

  Meeting his eyes, determination filled my gaze. “Anything?” Arching my back, I slid my fingers into his hair. “I did get in the pool. You did make a promise.”

  “Anything, Miss Camden.”

  The tears welled in the corners of my eyes before I could stop them as I pressed my body against his. “I want my baby,” I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips before I reached for his kiss.

  His biceps corded beneath my fingertips as I held onto him. I expected him to move away, but instead his mouth hardened, needing, and he held me as if I’d vanish at any moment.

  “Roam,” he exhaled, and at that moment, I knew that he was completely and utterly conquered by my plea.

  “Your baby. Our baby. Please, West, give her back to me.”

  I opened to him, wrapping my legs around his waist and crying out softly as his kiss deepened.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” he hushed, sounding so vulnerable. “I can’t let him hurt you.”

  He pushed into me at that moment, and I gasped, tears clouding my vision. “Don’t let me go,” I pleaded, moving with his steady rhythm as he held my face in his.

  “I love you, Roam,” he cried, driving me crazy, waiting for me to fall apart beneath him before giving me everything within his heart.

  He gave me the promise of seven lifetimes, whispered between worlds.

  I lay curled in his arms, the fear of the vast unknown before us weighing heavily on my shoulders. He kissed a trail from my bare neck, over my arm and ended at my wrist.

  “I love you, West,” I breathed, turning into him.

  We slept on and off for a while, the unknown, waking nightmares worse than the dreams.

  I stirred sometime later as he sat up. “Baby,” his breath was warm against my lips. “We’ve got to get going. It’s almost eight.”

  The house was louder than I’d ever heard it with all of us there. I wore jeans and a warm, gray sweater. West had purchased weather-protected outerwear for us all, including various sized, steel-toed combat boots.

  Logan met me at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at West and then back to me. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

  “Sure.” I took his hand and moved to the empty dining room. “What’s wrong?”

  He touched my cheek tenderly, narrowing his eyes. “What happened?”

  “Nightmare. Troy.”

  He nodded, looking down. Finally, he took my hands in his. “Before we leave, I want to tell you this alone.” His brown eyes focused on mine. “I’m sorry. I am sorry for everything that I
’ve ever done… in any life… to hurt you. I am so sorry.”

  “Logan.” God, my heart broke for him. I shook my head adamantly. “You don’t need to be sorry-”

  “But I am. I just want you to hear that. All of you, in every life.”

  I realized, finally, what he needed to hear. Taking his face in my hands, I held him firmly in my fingers. “I forgive you, Logan Robert Rush. And you are a good person, the best kind of man, worthy of everything wonderful that your life is going to bring you. I love you.”

  He crushed me to him, exhaling slowly. “Thanks, Cam.”

  “Roam,” West called me to the kitchen, and I squeezed Logan tightly once more before walking to the counter. “It’s time to talk to Troy. Are you sure you can do this? Even after the nightmare?”

  Morgan tucked her arm around me.

  I leaned into her, nodding bravely. “Yes.”

  We walked to the basement door, and West reached for the handle. I covered his hand with mine, shaking my head.

  “I have to speak to him alone. He won’t believe me if you’re standing right next to me.”

  His expression hardened to stone. “You’re not going down there alone.”

  “Agreed,” Logan called from near the refrigerator.

  Violet met my eyes before turning to her father. “She’s right. It makes no sense that you’d agree to this, unless you’re planning to double-cross him. Let her go. She can handle it.”

  West looked down at me, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Three minutes, and I’m coming down.”

  Nodding, I turned the door handle. I refused to look in Troy’s direction until my feet were flat on the concrete floor. As I turned to him, lightheadedness invaded my body.

  “Roam.”

  Troy spoke my name in a way that melted my courage and stole my breath.

  I looked at my hands, fighting for my nerve before turning to Troy. He watched me, his hands gripping the bars.

  “What you said… about your army,” I began, taking a deep, calming breath. “West is planning to take you with us.” I let the tears flow freely from my eyes, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to stop them if I tried. “I lost my daughter, and I just don’t want to lose again… I want Laurel to have her daughter back. I want everyone that I love to be safe.”

 

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