Somewhere Bound

by Fiona Keane

  “Oh, my God,” she moaned, her head hanging with laughter, the sweet sound filling our car. “Do you know where we’re going once we get to the city?”

  “No.” I shrugged. “We have enough cash to last us a while in a hotel though. We can find one and figure out the rest.”

  “The rest, huh?” Soph’s right eyebrow rose, eyeing me suspiciously beneath the perfectly groomed line.

  “Yes.”

  “Whatever you say, Mr. Black.”

  It was impossible to avoid looking at her, mesmerized by the sparkle in her soft blue eyes. Her face was warming, glowing beneath my stare, which trailed along her shoulder to her wrists, darkening with their painful reminder of Oregon. Soph noticed my reaction. Her arms twisted over in her lap while her glare burned out the window instead of back at me.

  “Don’t hide from me, Soph.” I reached across the console, folding my fingers around her forearm. “We went through that together. Please don’t hide from me.”

  “Stop, Jameson.” Her whisper was a warning. “If you make me talk about it, it’s going to ruin this feeling I have right now and I fought a lot for this feeling. Please just let me have it for one more minute.”

  My glance returned to the road, focusing on the pavement before us.

  “We need to talk about it,” I grumbled, trying to give her the silence she wanted but also afraid that if too much time passed, if we allowed too much avoidance, the beginning of our lives together would be false, a fabricated shell built on denial.

  Shaking my head at the thought, knowing no matter what came between us, the love we shared would overrule anything, I looked toward Soph. She was staring at me, her eyes wide with an impassive expression, a stare void of pressure for me to continue. This conversation is over. I heard the defeated sigh ringing from her parted lips while Soph turned away and rested her head against the door. Her fingers twirled among the twists of her braided hair, distracting my periphery.

  “Soph,” I started, hoping she would listen. “You’re beautiful. Bruises. Scars. Memories. Nightmares. I fell in love with all of it, I fell in love with you as a whole. I am still falling in love with you. Pain, happiness, those are all pieces of you and I wish to savor every last one.”

  “Please stop talking.”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not going to start in Vancouver with this hanging between us.”

  “Jameson! It will always be hanging between us. We can talk until we’re dead, and knowing your persistence, you’d probably keep talking to me from the other freaking side.” I stifled a laugh, barely able to contain my humor in her accuracy and rage.

  “I would do that. You’re totally right. It’s all because I care about you and want you to be happy. I know that you might not ever be fine because I might not ever be fine, but I do know that together we can be at peace. We just need to talk about this shit, Soph. I mean, for God’s sake…I…”

  “Don’t.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  Sophia

  The tip of my index finger gently tapped against my thumb while they looped around my left wrist. The memory of Simon binding my wrists to the stove beckoned my mind as the marks deepened their painful hues. I wanted to run from all of it, escape that memory entirely, but Jameson just wouldn’t give up. His determination to fight through everything, in spite of what happened, was enchanting. For a moment, I actually believed we could talk about it and I might have been okay, I might be able to stand up and function, maybe even breathe. Not the case. The hold against my wrist tightened, a warning to my memory not to slip from the present.

  Traffic bombarded our car as we approached Vancouver. My mom was there; I could feel it. My heart was at peace, the weight of Oregon not suffocating me with its dangerous resistance against my soul. Closing my eyes, I imagined her. I could smell honey, lavender; I heard her whisper, the tickling sound of her giggle. I let my mind slip into the fiction, holding onto memories while trying to create images of what could have been. We were meant to make this same trip. We were supposed to come here together, to meet her friend and start over.

  My heart grew heavy, turning to look at Jameson. I hadn’t imagined anyone would ever do more to keep her memory alive within me, but it seemed Jameson hadn’t realized that was exactly what he was doing. He was protecting me, he was protecting her.

  “Hey.” Jameson’s fingers slipped between my wrist and my hold against it. “I hate not talking, Soph. Please.”

  Turning to face him, my heart beginning to tighten while memories of my mom continued to play on repeat throughout my mind, I was aware of the concern brewing in his hazel eyes.

  “We can talk. I just don’t want to talk about that yet. Not now. Okay?”

  “Okay.” His hand lifted from my wrist, rising in defense before it met the steering wheel. “As long as you promise we will talk. Our life before Canada is going to eat us alive, swallow us whole, if we aren’t in it together.”

  I noticed his glare pressing against me, but I focused on the windshield, watching the city lights call to us from Vancouver.

  “We almost…” I felt the air around me suck into his lungs with the intense gasp that stopped his speech. “Never mind.”

  “For now. Never mind for now.” My trembling hand, free of its restraint, held his thigh. He nodded, eyes focused ahead, determined to carry us to the promise of hope.

  Somehow, I had to find a way to let go of the past. I wasn’t able to before Jameson. I longed for the nightmares, but they were haunting until he was with me, protecting me while I slept.

  With Jameson, having added a heavy, consuming weight of our past, I needed to find the strength from somewhere to stop allowing the past to tear us apart. For the first time in my life, I had someone to protect. I had something to keep sacred. Jameson. He had been so courageous, in this world alone and learning to manage the suffocating grief of losing his family, his identity. We needed to grieve all of this together or we wouldn’t be able to move on together.

  “Look,” I whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

  My eyes scanned the horizon, mesmerized by the abundant skyscrapers and buildings that reflected the snow-capped mountains to the north, buildings lit by wealth, and welcomed the drizzling fog that greeted our windshield.

  “Are you hungry, Soph?”

  “Yes.”

  “Should we find a hotel first?”

  Jameson cleared his throat and adjusted his posture, pulling along the thighs of his pants. I watched as his left elbow bent along the ledge of his door, his hand combing through his hair.

  “Sure. Hotel, dinner, and then we can…” I swallowed, fighting the nerves that resisted the urge to move forward. “Talk.”

  His head turned briefly, surprise flashing in the deep pools of his eyes. Jameson’s mouth opened and closed, unprepared to speak. I squeezed his knee, my eyes returning to the windshield, hoping to give him some quiet reassurance. I need to be strong. I need to start this life off as someone I would be proud of, someone my mom would want me to be, not frightened, not weary.

  The late afternoon sun was sparkling its pink and red glow off the glass structures towering over us as Jameson approached downtown Vancouver. We were silent, the energy swirling around us filling with excitement that ate away at the fear, the caution dissipating. Jameson parked our car along the curb near a busy intersection, the space filled with traffic and pedestrians. His hands reached for the ignition, refusing to move. Jameson’s face turned toward mine, catching my eyes.

  “This is it.” He nodded, biting his top lip. “This is it, Sophia.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Sophia?” He laughed, the sweet sound melting any remaining angst that hovered around us, breaking even further through the haze of fear and denial.

  I nodded. “Yes. You call me Soph. I’m your Soph.”

  “My Soph.” He pulled the keys from the ignition, repeating my words while he climbed from the car. I followed suit, grabbing his school
bag from the car while he pulled out our bags of clothes. I adjusted the strap along my chest, waiting for him to join me on the sidewalk.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s walk and see what we find?” He shrugged, smiling at me.

  I followed along, joining him in the pursuit of a place to sleep, a place to wake up renewed.

  The sidewalk was full of tourists flashing pictures of the structures around us, wildly animated in conversation. Walking at his side, carrying our physical baggage while stepping further from the emotional baggage from which we ran, lost in the crowd of pedestrians, was more pleasant than I had anticipated. Jameson was confident, holding his head high while we approached an enormous hotel. Looking up at him, I watched his bottom lip nervously meet between his teeth while he fought a smile and peered at me through the corner of his eye.

  “I don’t care anymore.” I laughed, shaking my head.

  He knew I would have said no to staying in such an elaborately monstrous hotel. The more I thought of it, the more my stomach knotted, watching the way Jameson’s tongue licked along his lips while trying not to look at me. I didn’t care anymore. I had Jameson. That’s all that mattered.

  “You know, Soph,” he whispered, his head bending to my ear. “This is just the beginning. If you miss it, if you miss anything, you’ll always know how to go back.”

  “I’d only miss you. If I…if I lost you…” My head turned, meeting his stubbly cheek, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was Jameson.

  “You’d always know your way back to me,” he cooed, almost a purr floating into my ears, “Just trace your steps. Now, let’s start over.”

  Jameson’s lips chastely met my forehead before pulling away. He inhaled a shaky breath, similar to me, both of us conscious of the magnitude of that kiss, of his words, both of us aware that it was only the beginning.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  Jameson

  I tried not to laugh at Soph once we were inside of our hotel room. I knew it was taking a lot of strength for her to not scold me for forcing us to sleep in such an expensive room. My heart was in the right place, I wanted Soph to feel secure when we finally talked about everything. I wanted her to feel privilege, the entitlement and luxury that she deserved.

  I placed our bags in the doorway, making sure to lock the door, while I watched Soph step further into the room. She stopped at the curtains, separating the panels to reveal a breathtaking view of the mountains north of West Vancouver, the glass skyscrapers interrupting the sight. Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled, pulling her arms across her chest as she continued to stare out the window. I observed her. It was impossible not to.

  “Are you tired, babe?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.” I stepped to the bed and pulled back the covers. “Come over here.”

  Soph slowly spun around, her arms tightly crossed, and looked at me.

  “Liar,” I mouthed, smiling at her.

  Tired, wounded, and drained, Sophia was absolutely stunning. Her beauty could stop a war; I knew it because she stopped the battle in my heart.

  “Just for a minute,” she moaned, shaking her head at my persistence.

  She stubbornly accepted my hand and let me help her adjust into bed. I pulled off her shoes, dropping them on the floor next to mine, before climbing in at her side. Silently, I let my head fall against the pillow and felt Soph lift my right arm to nuzzle against me. I gladly pulled her even closer, my heart softening at the way her body molded into mine.

  My eyes were raw with exhaustion, but my mind refused to stop. I was staring at the ceiling, the wheels of my brain violently spinning. I could feel Soph’s breathing slow at my side and I hoped she had started to drift. She needs to sleep.

  I traced a pattern along her hip, my fingers mindlessly lost against her form. We did it. We. Sophia and me. I knew in that moment, as I had already admitted, that was it. My entire world existed in that room, in that bed, so close to Soph’s heart. It was alarming, knowing the weight of my existence, of our existence, rested within that single space. Everything I was ever going to be would be determined by that, by her.

  I woke to a soft snore at my side, unaware I had even fallen asleep. She was sound asleep, lost in a dream that I could only hope was peaceful. There were two things I had yet to accomplish without Soph. First, I needed to stop staring at her. Second, I needed to stop staring at her.

  Reluctantly and painfully slowly, I pulled my weight away from Soph, rolling from the mattress. I had two things to take care of. Two. I hoped to do both and be back before she even knew. I hope. I spun around, looking for a notepad and pen, just in case she woke in worry. I hated to worry her, to cause her anything but happiness, but she would understand once it was all finished. I hastily wrote her a note, placing the paper on the nightstand at her side, and grabbed one of the room keys before sliding on my shoes. I checked through my wallet, ensuring I had a small piece of one of my two tasks. I can do this.

  I headed out of the room, stopping with my head against the door, reminding myself Soph was safely inside, lost in a silent world of peace. The lobby was calm, only a few scattered patrons there. As I approached the front desk, the attendant stood from her chair and smiled at me.

  “Mr. Black,” she greeted me, remembering me from check-in and probably delighting in the fact Soph wasn’t at my side.

  I fought a smile remembering the pain Soph’s nails caused while digging into my arm during check-in. I’m not even going to remind her of that. That is not a path down which I wish to venture. Although, jealous Soph is sort of hot too. She was full of surprises.

  “I need to use a phone.”

  “The one in your room isn’t working?”

  “It is…” I shook my head. “I just can’t make a call from there right now. May I use yours? Or is there another phone I can access?”

  “Well,” she placed her hair behind her pointy ears, “there are several in the business center down the hall over there, near the elevators. You’re welcome to use one of those.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded, smiling politely before stepping away and walking toward the business center. I have to do this.

  His phone number was burned into my mind, knowing I would need to make that call eventually, and reveling in the fact I could. A shiver rippled through me, my heart feeling guilty as though I was betraying Soph, but it was a promise, an expectation for her that I had to fulfill.

  The business center was empty, thankfully, so I headed toward a small booth in the corner that housed a phone. I dialed, impatiently waiting for a response. My heart collided with my throat once the ringing ceased.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Jameson,” I whispered, leaning my head into the booth. “I need one more thing from you.” My teeth began to chatter, nervous energy rippling through my body.

  “What?”

  “Soph’s mom had a friend here. I need to find him.”

  The static received as a response was terrifying, my stomach again filled with violent butterflies that mocked my hope of finding an answer.

  “Well…”

  “Please, Toby. You’ll never hear from us again.”

  “Call me back in five minutes.” Click.

  My jaw was throbbing, each tooth tearing into the other while I waited. I was filling with an indescribable feeling of guilt covered with pride. It was going to happen, but doing it without Soph knowing, unsure if it was the right thing for her, it all burned my soul. She needed closure. I could give it to her. I waited seven minutes, just to be safe, before calling Toby again. The next time, his tone was lighter.

  “Black?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lucas D’Augustino. Big attorney. Good luck.” Click. I scribbled down the address Toby whispered before hanging up, the number and street name ringing into my memory. Roberson.

  A ten-second phone call had given me the final piece to Soph’s puzzle. I sat for a moment with my hea
d in my hands, processing the weight of this information.

  “Mr. Black?” The front desk attendant was standing in the doorway, adjusting the length of her blazer at her hips. My face lifted, peering at her through my fingers, before standing.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay, sir?”

  “Better than. Thank you.” I nodded, flying past her with the scribbled address and one mission on my mind.

  I had no idea where to start figuring out how Toby knew of Lucas, but I didn’t think I should even attempt to comprehend such information. It didn’t matter. My pace quickened, my feet stomping through puddles along the sidewalk as I ran through the rain in hopes of crossing through the unknown city to find Roberson. It was incredibly crowded, considering the pouring rain, the intersection filled with people and their brightly colored umbrellas.

  Drenched and dripping like a flower wilted in the rain, I found myself standing outside of the massive structure. The glass was almost a reflective copper, blinding me with its mirror of the setting sun. I couldn’t even remember what day of the week it was, but my hands quickly pushed through the door in hopes Lucas was somewhere in that building.

  The lobby was dark, a dismal interior of gray and coral reminiscent of a sterile doctor’s office. Will we be okay without talking to a doctor? We. I–will I be okay without talking to a doctor? Well…yeah. I’m even once more removed from Gabriel. He is more of a stranger to me than Jameson Burke. I’m never going to stop missing Sam or having nightmares, but my life with Soph is entirely different. It is a new me, a new us, a new hope. We’ll be okay. Better than okay.

  Clearing my head of the absurd pep talk, I scanned the sign between elevator doors, searching for Lucas’s name. L.D. Augustino. Floor Three. Suite Six. Here we go.