Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) (3 page)

“Dually noted. Thanks for the lecture- it’s been so long since I had you to set me straight… what was it, Sunday? Monday?”

“Brat.”

“
I’m going to shower, and then I’ll make dinner tonight. How’s that?” I asked, gathering my backpack and gym bag. Morgan collected two empty Starbucks cups from the Malibu, nodding.

“Sounds good. But if you get tired, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” I touched her hand, and she lifted her eyes to mine. “Really, Morgan, for all that you do for me. I love you so much.”

She smiled broadly, gathering me into a hug with her free hand. “You’re welcome. I love you too.”

In my bedroom, I peeled off my gym clothes and headed for the shower in the adjoining bathroom. Before stepping in, I spread my hands over my stomach; I could tell there was a bump, though Morgan insisted I looked thinner than I did before I’d run away. Today, my skin was tight, stretched differently than I’d ever seen before.

My mind jumped to
a white cottage just footsteps from the Atlantic shore, and the memory of West’s hands on my skin made me sink to the bathtub floor. I cried until the hot water turned warm and then cool, draining the tank in the basement. After managing to dry off and wrap myself in the fluffy, white robe hanging on my closet door, I sat on the foot of my bed and stared at the corner of the bedroom.

Absently, I traced my fingertips over the thin marking on my left, inner forearm. The numbers-
coordinates for Madison, Ohio- were a constant reminder of the past two, dream-like months. Logan and I easily convinced our family and friends that we’d gotten matching tattoos for our home town, a symbolic gesture of our life-long friendship. No one knew that the moment one of us left town, a searing pain would force the coordinates on our arms to change, allowing us to always find each other.

You need
to know where your enemy is.

West’s carry
-on sat untouched between my desk and dresser. My iPod, still stuck in the middle of a playlist from the nineties, was shoved in the front, zippered pocket with my passport and birth certificate. I walked to the bag, trance-like, unsure of my intentions as I retrieved my iPod. Holding my breath, I walked away from the bag as quickly as possible.

If I smelled him, I would
fall apart.

“Playlists,” I murmured, powering up the device and skipping to the menu.
My heart thudded; he’d added three new playlists to the menu in North Carolina-
Nineties Hits, My Favorites,
and
For Roam.
I scrolled down to
For Roam,
and then moved my long, wet hair away from my ear to put the ear buds in.

The first song was my parent’s wedding song-
Never My Love
by the Association. I made it through half of the song before I turned the iPod off and shoved it under my pillow. Frustrated tears resurfaced.
How could you leave me, knowing you couldn’t come back?

By the time my cell pho
ne rang, I was on edge. The number was unfamiliar.

“Hello?”

“So, I’m scrolling through Ally’s contacts, and I see that Roam Camden has a new cell phone number. Which
would
explain why the girl never answers my calls. I’m a little less offended now.”

Grinning, I gathered my dark hair to one shoulder. “
Jason-May, are you calling to talk to me or my sister?” I demanded playfully.

“That hurt, baby.”

Hearing him call me ‘baby,’ West’s familiar endearment, was instantly sobering. “Home from school?”

“Turkey day break. Hey, I heard a rumor about you. I’m going to the source.”

“Gossip doesn’t become you, Jason.”

“Well?”

I sighed as his husky voice turned serious. “Logan and I broke up, but we’re keeping the baby.”

“Personal, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Well I’m here for you, little sis. You and Ally should spend more time together again. You sound like you need a friend.”

“Sounds good.”

“So… Morgan home from school?”

“Oh, for crying out loud. Morgan!” I called, walking to my door. Morgan was half-way to my bedroom as I peered into the hallway.

“You fell asleep, didn’t you. I’m not eating peanut
butter and jelly again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jason-May is on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”

Her face turned crimson, an unusual color for her. “Okay, thanks.” She accepted my iPhone, pressing it to her ear. “Hey Jason, how have you been?”

I listened for a few seconds more, but
then went back to my room to give them privacy. Ally-May and her brother Jason lived two doors down from Logan, and we’d all grown up together. Morgan and Jason, both the same age, had dated a few times, but agreed that our families were too close and dating was too weird.

I suspected Jason had changed his mind.

Securing my hair in a messy bun, I slipped into my evening uniform as of late: comfortable tee-shirt and thin yoga pants. I decided to cook Morgan something wonderful to not only thank her, but to distract my mind from thoughts of West. Her favorite pasta recipe was easy enough- and involved marinara sauce, which I could handle.

I was halfway down the stairs of our colonial when I saw Morgan. Her lips were drawn in a straight line, and I could tell she was grinding her teeth.
Something’s wrong.
“Hey, what happened? What did Jason want?”

“Never mind Jason. What in the
hell
does this text from Logan mean? It came through while I was on your phone.”

My heart thudded to a stop. “What?”

“Here, I’ll read it to you.
Roam, thank you for agreeing to come to dinner. Please remember that my parents think you’re carrying their grandchild, so this means a lot to them... and to me.
”

Think. Fast.
“What?” I repeated.

“What does he mean; his parents
think
you’re carrying their grandchild?”

“You know, they care about me because… because it’s their son’s baby… and…,”

“Don’t you lie to me, Roam Eva Camden.”

“Mind your own business, Morgan! I’m not a child anymore. I appreciate your love and concern, but I am more than able to take care of myself.”

“I deserve the goddamn truth.”

Hearing her curse made me cringe.
She’s so mad.
“You know the truth.”

“I am familiar with the giant, smelly pile of
bullshit
you and Logan are running around here, but I want to know the
truth
.”

I finished walking down the stairs and brushed past her,
plucking my phone from her outstretched hand. “You’re being crazy.”

“
Am I?”

“Eat peanut butter and jelly. I’m leaving.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to Logan’s house.” I slipped into a pair of tan,
faux-suede boots. “It’s not snowing. I can walk.” With my coat zipped and a hood over my wet hair, I reached for the front door.

“Roam…,”

“I’ll be home by nine.”

Slamming the door behind me was juvenile, but empowering. I had no idea if Logan was even home. I could see through the bare trees that lights were on in the Rush’s upstairs windows, but I couldn’t tell if Logan’s car was parked in the driveway.

The five minute walk was colder with each step as the sun went down. I could see my breath at first, but by the time I got to Logan’s house, the sky was too dark to see much of anything. As I reached the end of his driveway, I stopped just behind his Camry.
What in the world am I doing? Logan and I aren’t close anymore, nor are we even friends. Not only did I betray him with another man, I’m pregnant.

I started to turn back to my house, but the familiar sound of their front door opening drew my attention. Just barely six o’clock, the street was dark except for the lamplight near their sidewalk. “Cam, is that you?”

“I- yeah. Just wanted to take a walk.”

I watched him reach for his jacket. He closed the door softly behind him, walking out to the end of the driveway to meet me. With every step he took, I grew more apprehensive.
He just told you his dreams of killing you are getting intense. So you walk right to him
?

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rush.”

“Can I walk with you?”

“Sure.”

We turned back toward the road. “Did you eat dinner?”

“No… I’ll grab something when I go home.”

“Why don’t you come in and eat something with me?
My parents are still in Pennsylvania visiting Gram,” he added.

I considered his invitation. “
Want to just get some take-out? I haven’t had Chinese in forever.”

“I’m not feeding my child Chinese take-out.”

It took a few seconds to comprehend his words. As I did, I held back a surge of hormone-induced tears. Looking down, I blinked rapidly, fighting the burning moisture in my eyes. He reached for me, tentatively at first, but when met with no resistance he folded me into his arms.

“What if he escaped,” my wavering voice was muffled by his shoulder. “What if West is trapped, but Troy escaped… and he’s just waiting for the right time to kill me…,”

“When? A time when you’re completely unguarded, vulnerable, and your asshole ex-boyfriend has left you to fend for yourself- all alone? Well, then, he’s had plenty of opportunity. But he hasn’t attacked.” He smoothed his hand over my back, his touch comforting through my heavy coat. “He’s trapped there, Cam. Maybe he can move between worlds, but the only place he can go
back
to is 1977. If…
West
… hasn’t returned, then Troy can’t. West would… find a way, if there was one.”

I knew it was difficult for him to speak his name.
I steadied my voice, brushing away the willful tears that slid down my wind-chapped cheeks. “Thank you, Logan. And you’re not an… a-hole.”

He chuckled, gripping me even tighter. “Sorry, I know you hate it when I swear.”

“I’m not your boss.”

We
stood under the lamplight for a few silent minutes. I lifted my head away from his shoulder, meeting his stare. His dark eyes searched mine, intent on reading something that I wasn’t sure was even there.

“I want to kiss you.”

My words, right before our first kiss, were whispered from him with the same pleading trepidation.

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a steadying breath.
Am I that girl? The girl who constantly needs to be rescued, coddled, and protected? Would kissing Logan betray my love for West, a love that would surely never die?

Reaching for him on my tip-toes, I cupped his f
lushed face in both of my hands and sighed. I focused on a snow flake that landed on the dark shoulder of his coat.

His hands slid under my jacket and around to my back as he lifted me against his mouth. I permitted his kiss for a few seconds, but
the taste of his breath soon had me responding. His lips, so familiar, moved over mine, urging. I slid my fingers over his neck, protesting softly against his open mouth.

The moment his hands skimmed my sides, I stiffened. His fingers moved to touch
my stomach, exploring and tender, pressing against my tightened skin. Gasping, I broke from his kiss and stepped back.

His heavy-lidded gaze was apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No, I’m just…,” I struggled to steady my breaths. “I don’t want this… I’m not ready for this…,”

“I have to… touch you, to know you’re real, and I’m real, and that I’d never hurt you,” he swallowed hard, looking toward the house. “The nightmares never end. Each time, each place… each time I… hurt you, I feel like I lose a piece of myself… of my sanity. Last night was the worst… I…,” he stopped short, shaking his head.

The pain in his voice was evident. I crumbled, reaching for him. “Oh, my God, Logan,” I gathered him into my arms. “Talk to me, please. I’m not afraid of you. Let’s go in the house.”

“You’re not afraid of… of me? Of the things I’ve done?”

“It wasn’t you.
It wasn’t you,
” I repeated, hushed, kissing his cheeks. An errant tear met my lips, and I pressed it away. “I still… I’ll always…,” I tried to even out my shaking voice.

He met my lips again softly. “Come in. Let’s talk. I’ll make you dinner.”

I nodded, walking hand in hand with him to the front door.

The inside of the Logan’s house smelled like Mrs. Rush’s favorite cranberry-scented candles for as long as I could remember. I took my coat off and hung it on the banister leading upstairs, a routine action stemming from years of visits to the Rush House. The colonial was built in the early nineties, as my family’s was, but the interior reflected Carol’s feminine touch where as my father preferred décor in only two categories- plain or plaid.