My earlier frustrations and horror at how her father had treated her returned in an instant. “I don’t blame you.” Folding my arms, I took in everything once more, suddenly feeling like it was suffocating. All I had to do was look at her to know she felt the same.
“We can go somewhere else, if you want,” I offered. “I don’t know what there is to do in Rome, but I would imagine there’s a lot.”
She chuckled, some of the strain in her eyes lessening. “You would be right about that,” she agreed. “Unfortunately, though, we’re going to have to stay here for a while. The entire Order has been grounded in the aftermath of the explosion. Everything’s at a standstill until my father gives the okay for us to move forward. If Master Cavanagh is dead, the Templars will have to meet and vote on a new leader. I must remain here until we know for sure what’s happening.” She smiled lightly, shrugging. “I apologize, but since I brought you here, that means you have to stay until then, too.”
Grinning, I tried to make light of the whole situation. “I don’t mind,” I responded. “As long as I’m with you.”
Caught off guard by my own words, I clamped my mouth shut, embarrassed. With everything that was going on, how could I only think about what it would be like to be with her?
Her smile remained, a slight blush washing her cheeks.
“I’m going to shower,” I announced, trying to direct attention away from one awkward subject and stumbling into another. “Are there clothes here for me?”
“I’ll have them bring some up,” she responded instantly, moving to the phone on the bedside table.
“Thank you.” Hurrying to the bathroom, I shut myself inside, closing my eyes. I felt like I was some schoolboy with a crush, constantly flubbing over what I wanted to say and accidentally acting cheesy instead.
I gaped at the sight of the lavatory. A mirror stretched across the length of the countertop, a double vanity, matched to the marble floors, sparkling like new directly across from me. To the right was a giant, jetted bathtub, sitting next to a walk-in shower. It was marble as well, the floor flowing into it seamlessly, only a small step keeping the water from running into the middle of the room. On the left side, a tiny closet housed the toilet, a built-in shelf taking up the majority of the wall. It held things like towels and lotions, the scent of the soaps tickling my nose pleasantly.
The thought of warm water running over my flight sore muscles did sound relaxing and I smiled, pushing my tormented thoughts from my mind. A shower would do me good, in more ways than one.
There was no laundry basket, so I placed my clothes in a pile on the floor, grimacing at their dirty and torn state. I’d showered at the motel, too, but hadn’t had anything to change into. As it was, I was still in the outfit I’d been wearing when the explosion happened, and it was far beyond saving at this point.
Turning the water on, I took the opportunity to really clean myself, wanting to be away from Rebecca for a moment and gather my thoughts on our meeting with her father.
The guy was a dick. How could he not see how wonderful she was, how hard she was trying? Sure, some things had gone wrong, but that didn’t justify telling her he wished she was dead.
She’d never told me she had a brother, either. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact—there had never been cause for her to share anything about him—but hearing he was dead had saddened me for her all the same. I didn’t know what I would do if Kevin died.
My mind slammed to a halt, refusing to move any further. It was too much to think about right now, trying to decide if Kevin was not the man I’d thought he was all my life. The brother I’d known never would have blown up an entire building with people inside. He and I didn’t have secrets. We were best friends, sworn to always be together.
Except, we weren’t together and everything had gone to shit as soon as we split up.
My good, relaxed feelings vanished, and I shut the shower off, toweling myself dry and wrapping the cloth around my waist.
Hesitating, I suddenly realized I had no clothes to wear. I’d gotten in the bath without waiting for them to arrive. I’d taken long enough that they should have been here by now, but that meant I was going to have to walk out in front of Rebecca in just a towel.
Blushing, I cracked the door open, peering into the room. Thankfully, a bag of clothes was sitting on the floor in front of me. Reaching for it, I felt a rush of relief, my anxiety lessening some.
A sniffling sound drew my attention and I glanced toward the bed. Rebecca was seated there, her back to me, apparently not having noticed my appearance. She cried softly, holding a tissue to her nose, her shoulders shaking slightly.
The clothes forgotten, I crossed the room to her. “Hey,” I said, trying to sound supportive.
Startled, she jumped, quickly wiping her face and sniffing one last time. “I didn’t hear you get out,” she said apologetically, as she dabbed under her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting beside her. “Is it what your dad said?”
She laughed, glancing at the ceiling, and shook her head. “I’m fine, really, Eric. You don’t need to worry.”
I remained unconvinced, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. “You can tell me,” I offered quietly. “I don’t mind listening.”
“You’re right, it’s just my dad being a jerk, that’s all.” She moved toward me, revealing her red nose and bloodshot eyes. She had been crying hard, I realized, clearly more than a little upset.
“He’s an asshole,” I agreed. “And he had no right to say those things to you.”
She snuffled. “He does, though.” A fresh tear rolled over her cheek, only to be impatiently swiped away by the paper in her hand. “Everything he said was true. I’m no good at being a Templar. Not like my brother was, anyway.”
“That doesn’t make it okay for your dad to tell you he wished you were dead,” I argued. “So, you aren’t as good as he wants you to be. He should be encouraging you, not burying you deeper because of it.”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “My brother, Logan, was a protégée when it came to The Order. He was my father’s pride and joy. Everything he touched practically turned to gold.” Her lip trembled, as she paused, her hands fisting in her lap, crumpling the already soaked tissue. “I worked twice as hard as he did, but I was never even close to as skilled as he was. He could learn different languages in his sleep, if he wanted. Logan was the top of every class and the first to pass his entrance exams for membership. I failed mine twice.
“When I finally did manage to secure a spot, my father lobbied to have me and Logan put on a team together. He believed if I was with my brother, I would catch up eventually and bring the same kind of honor to our name.” She laughed, gazing toward the window. “We are O’Rourkes, after all. The best and most loyal family.
“It didn’t work out like he wanted, though. I kept screwing up and Logan always took the blame for it. Eventually, the thing I’d been most afraid of happened.”
She looked at me, her eyes so filled with remorse that it made my heart break. “I screwed up and Logan was killed. Dad’s never forgiven me.” She shook her head. “I’ve never forgiven myself.”
Frowning, I took one of her hands in mine, feeling like she needed some type of consoling. “What happened?”
She sighed. “We were sent on a mission to meet with one of our transporters. It was routine stuff, especially for newbies like us. All we had to do was exchange whatever artifact they’d brought us for money.” Her face turned dark, her words bitter as they left her. “The guy we met was dirty. He wanted more money and when we refused to give it to him, he pulled a gun on me. Instead of following my training and diffusing the situation by whatever means, I froze. Logan tried to make up for my inaction and was shot. He died before I was able to get him help.”
She laughed, fresh tears leaking from her eyes. “He was only twenty years old. I was nineteen and thought we had a lifetime of trying to impres
s Dad together.”
Squeezing her fingers, I bit my lip. I knew there was nothing I could say to her that would help, not when she was so upset already, but I had to at least try. “It’s not your fault,” I asserted. “What kind of organization sends kids in to do their bidding?”
She shook her head, staring at me seriously. “It was my fault, Eric. If I’d done what I’d been trained to do, Logan would still be alive. I was sent to D.C. right after that, as punishment. They didn’t want me paired with anyone else. The secretary job at Headquarters was only given to me later because of my last name. No one wants me here, especially not my own father.”
She paused, thinking over her next words and then slumped against the headboard, defeated. “I don’t even want to be here.”
To see her so dejected was physically painful to me. Unable to help myself, I pulled her into my arms, letting her rest against my bare chest, and stroked her hair. I didn’t know what to say, or even what she needed to hear, but I could provide her the comfort she had so obviously been missing for the past five years since her brother’s death.
Her palms spread against my chest, tears dripping down my skin as she let me hold her. Her form curled against me, my arms protecting her from the outside world for a time. We sat that way until I was tired from squeezing her, my body sore and ready to relax. She cried her tears and hiccupped until she was unmoving, cradled against me like I was exactly what she’d wanted and needed in that moment.
I had no intention of letting her go. Instead, I had been forming a plan, letting my rage at her treatment and my feelings for her drive me forward as I cuddled her.
“Let’s leave,” I whispered. “Right now. We can run away from here and never return.”
Surprised, she pulled away, regarding me skeptically. “What?”
“You said you didn’t want to be here. You don’t even like being a Templar,” I argued. “So, let’s go.” Hesitating, I wondered if what I was about to say was the smartest thing. Anyone could be listening in, spying on me as they had done in D.C. In the end, though, I didn’t really care what the Templar Knights did.
I didn’t intend to stay with them much longer, if Rebecca would help me.
“You can come with me. We’ll find Scott and set out on our own mission—to find Pandora’s Box and keep it from all Knights, Templar or Black.”
She scooted from my side, staring at me like I had suddenly sprouted a second head.
“It won’t be easy,” I hurried to say. “We’ll have to do a lot of searching. Dangerous is probably not a strong enough word to describe it, either. I mean, you know The Order. Keeping an artifact they want from them will likely be a death sentence.”
“It’s stupid, that’s what it is,” she replied, staring at me like I was a madman.
Nodding, I agreed. “It’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever decided to do. Well, besides falling for you, anyway.”
Silence spread between us, my heart hammering in my chest as I gazed at her. I hadn’t intended to mention how I felt, but it seemed right in the moment.
“Listen,” I said, trying to ignore the panic that came from her not replying to my declaration. “I read those letters from Sam and Mark. I know that vase is dangerous, so much so that they literally reached through time to tell us not to mess with it. No offense, but I don’t think it should be held by anyone willing to kill or kidnap people to get what they want.” Giving her a pointed stare, I paused, letting my words sink in.
“Do you know where it is?” she asked, curiosity in her voice.
“No.”
Her expression fell some, but she remained intrigued. “How will you set about finding it, if I agree to come with you?”
Sucking in a breath, I shrugged. “I don’t know. I need to find out if Scott’s alive or not. He will have a better idea of what to do.”
“And if he’s not?”
“I don’t know.”
She frowned. “You don’t know a whole lot, do you?”
Laughing, I shook my head. “That’s why I need you, Rebecca. You know a lot. You may think that record job was a hand off to keep you busy, but it wasn’t. You’ve learned the history of these things, of your Order and their movements. I know, without a doubt, you are capable of great things. And I want to see you do them.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Because you like me? Is that it?”
I cleared my throat. “No. Well, yes. But, what I mean to say is—I trust you. I trust that you know right from wrong.” Leaning in, I stared into her eyes, my voice sure. “Look around, Rebecca. The Order is wrong. They refuse to believe things that don’t work to their advantage. They commit crimes on a whim, because they think it will help them.” Softening, I took her hand again. “They’re blaming you for the accidental death of your brother. Your own father. You’ve been ostracized and your better judgment ignored. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably already be dead or taken captive by the Black Knights. You got in trouble for saving me, more than once, which I’ll never be able to thank you enough for. Now you’re being scorned for living through an attack on your home.”
Grabbing her other hand in earnest, I scooted closer. “You’re worth more than how they’re treating you. You are—you’re worth everything, Rebecca. More than what they’re giving you. More than what I can even give you.”
A ripple of shock passed over her, my words unexpected, and she sucked in a breath, leaning toward me.
Her lips pressed against mine with such force I found myself caught off guard, my body freezing as she came closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. I melted quickly, though, pressing my fingers into the small of her back and holding her to me, reveling in the taste of her. She wasn’t as sweet as I’d thought she would be, instead carrying a fierier taste, like she had just eaten salsa. The heat of it blazed, my body begging as I pressed myself against her.
“I’ll do it,” she said breathlessly, between kisses. “I’ll leave with you.”
I knew in that instant that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. She could ask me to follow her to Hell and I would gladly do it, so long as I got to stay with her.
Groaning, I slid my hands into her hair, caressing the back of her neck and anchoring her mouth against my own. It was like I’d never even touched a girl before, the way my body reacted to hers. I wanted everything all at once, no matter the cost. At the same time, though, I wanted to take it slow. She was hurting and needed someone to help her. There would be nothing more than making out tonight if I had a say in it.
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open, and I broke away from her, grabbing her protectively as I glanced toward the entrance. My face paled as I saw who stood there, gun in hand and annoyance on his face.
“Get dressed, Er, you look ridiculous,” Kevin said. “We need to go before anyone realizes I’m here.”
“Kevin?” Surprised, I didn’t move, completely bewildered as to how he had even known where I was. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” he demanded, waving the gun in the air. Then, pointing at Rebecca, he glared. “You leave my brother alone, Dog.”
“Whoa!” Thrown off by his callous remarks, I held Rebecca even tighter, refusing to let her go. “Dude!”
“Eric, this is not the time to play at romance,” Kevin hissed. “We’ve come to rescue you!”
“Who is we?” Rebecca asked, speaking for the first time.
Kevin grinned, pointing the gun at her.
“The Black Knights,” I whispered.
Samantha O’Rourke
1698
It seemed strange that, in all the times I’d almost died, my life had never really flashed before my eyes. Maybe I hadn’t relived anything because it wasn’t my time to go yet. But that couldn’t be it—my memories were replaying themselves now and I knew without a doubt that I wasn’t about to leave this life for another.
My mother’s face was the first thing that filled my mind. For the longest time, it
was only the two of us. She had a laugh like music and a soul that God himself couldn’t have loved more. It was my greatest ambition to be a woman and mother like she’d been. Slowly, the picture zoomed out, like a slow motion shot in a movie. A breeze gently stirred her brown hair, the Arizona sun shining down like a shower of heavenly light around her. Her favorite red dress, the one she’d worn to both my high school and university graduations, stood out clearly in my mind. It had fit her perfectly, hugging her in all the right places. Whenever someone told me I looked like her, it was the greatest of compliments.
As she stood there, laughing, her hand in her tresses, she began to change. Her shoulders slumped, her skin whitened, circles grew under her eyes, and her outfit was suddenly too big. A frown appeared, and when she pulled her fingers away, a huge clump of hair came with it. She coughed, a horrible, painful, wet sound, and I instantly knew that I was staring at the woman cancer had created. While she had tried so hard to stay happy and hopeful, the sickness had stolen her from me in the end, making her a pale, pitiful, creature. Memories continued to assault me, and I swore I could smell the last batch of cookies we had made together, and even the scent of her perfume, as I held her urn on my lap.
As Lucy Dawn Green faded from my mind’s eye, her form was replaced with that of my father, Michael. Light shone around him like a halo as well, his back tall and straight. He stood with his arms crossed, and a confident smile, his wispy hair practically standing on end, as always. For a moment, I imagined him surrounded by his books and maps, his thirst for knowledge driving him forward. He wanted so badly to reach the bottom of the Treasure Pit. We’d almost done it, too.
Suddenly, the image went dark. There was nothing to see or study, only the sound of my screaming as he’d been crushed to death in a landslide.
What I saw next was not a person, but a place. The image was blurry and dark, as it had been on the night I first visited, but I felt the emotions I’d struggled with at the time. Pain, mourning, anger, fear, and determination filled me as I stared at the muddy walls of the Treasure Pit. Gently, I seemed to fall through the floor, landing in the vault and discovering its secrets. In front of me, a box with a puzzle lock rested, calling to me. Without any prompting, it opened, revealing the jar inside. It was old and covered in what appeared to be Greek markings. The lid twisted off by itself, and my mind was washed with light, the recollection of almost drowning in The Pit, thankfully, left out of my musings.
Stolen Away : A Time Travel Romance (The Swept Away Saga Book 4) Page 7