West (A Roam Series Novella) (5 page)

“Sweetheart, when our baby is born, and enough weeks have passed, I’ll make sure to make up for lost time,” I promised, giving her a deep, stirring kiss.

“West?”

“
Hmn?”

“Please promise me something.”

“Anything, baby.”

“If I’m not her… if I’m not the one to save this world… promise me you’ll love again.
Promise me you’ll open your heart to the one.
Please.”

“Annie-…,”

“She’ll be me,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please don’t forget that she’ll be me. And if our baby lives, but I don’t… please love her like I would love her,” she went on, her voice thick, her words halted.

“Hey, now,” I cupped her petite face in my hands, brushing at her tears with my thumb. “Stop that. It’s you and me, Anastasia Perry. You and
me, and our baby, and we’re going to end this together. I won’t fail this time, and I can’t let you go. No one will ever be you.”

“
I love you,
” she sobbed, linking her swollen fingers through mine. “And she won’t be just like me, but she’ll love you like I do. Because a love like this doesn’t just end.”

I hated when she talked like this. She saw things before they happened, knew things before they occurred, and the fear in her voice unsettled me. “Did you have a dream?”

“Just
promise me,
” she begged.

Focused on her bright, watery eyes, I nodded once. “I promise you. I promise you that I’ll never stop loving you. I never have, and I never will.”

Roam

I had explained the prophecy, the Alters, the dreams, and told her I was looking for the doors to the past lives.

And she didn’t run.

She may be naïve, but she’s brave,
I thought, sliding my alarm off on my phone. I’d left her alone last night to just process all of the information…

And so I could think straight.

Logan Rush was going to be a problem. The kid had good intentions, but he was on her constantly. He was a liability, and I had to decide whether it was safe for Roam to tell him about who she was, and who I was. He definitely loved her and cared about her, and another set of eyes watching out for her was something I’d never had the advantage of having in the past.

But she loved him.

But isn’t sleeping with him, she made that clear at the park.

Not him, not anyone.

I hadn’t experienced jealousy in decades, and emotion was biting at my already short temper.
Was she thinking of sleeping with him? Were they being safe?

What would I do if she ended up pregnant- with
Logan’s child?

I couldn’t very well work sex
ed into my history class. I hoped that Morgan was helping her be responsible.

At the thought of Logan’s sloppy hands on her body, a fresh surge of jealousy took over, firing rapid, angry signals in my brain.
Chills ran over my arms, and I knew that something was wrong.

The unanswered questions had me reaching for my phone. I dialed her number, and she answered with a
groggy “Hello?”

Tears in her voice.
She was crying.

“You were asleep,” I snapped. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.
You’ve been crying. Are you okay?”

I was being too familiar, too personal, and though I’d already chastised myself for that during our talk at Paine Falls, I fell right back into the same patterns with her every time.

“No I’m not okay. I died last night. In the woods. In France,” she shook, her words trembling so much I could barely understand her. “And when he put the knife in me, there was real pain! And I screamed for you, but,” she broke into breathy sobs.

Fuck.
France. “I’m coming to your house. Tell Logan that you’re sick and you’re not going to school.”

“West…,”

“Fifteen minutes.”

I disconnected, and then dialed the school, explaining that I needed a substitute for the day, family emergency.
Grabbing the canvas bag of books that I’d checked out from the library, along with my messenger bag and laptop, I nearly ran to the car.

On the road within five minutes, I made it to her house
in ten. The front door was left unlocked, something else I’d have to address with her. What part of
you’re being hunted
didn’t she understand? The house was eerily silent. I took two steps at a time, glancing in two bedrooms before finding one that I knew inherently was hers.

A small sound came from the bathroom.

I stepped into the doorway, nearly dropping to my knees.

Pale- her dark hair only turned her face ashen as she curled against the wall. Sheets were piled in the mesh hamper, and were darkened with heavy blood stains. “
Goddamnit
,” I clenched my fists, crossing the small bathroom in one stride.

Gathering
her into my arms, I let her head fall against my chest. Fragile and weak, she gripped my arms, a tiny shudder escaping with her words. “
I’m so afraid
.”

Carrying her to the bed, I pulled the blankets over her, smoothing her damp hair.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, keeling at the bedside. Her eyes lifted to mine, anxiety forcing her words out in short breaths.

“What about school?”

I ran my hands over her floral bedspread, the pillow, anywhere to keep from crawling beneath the covers and drawing her against my body.

France. They
killed her together, both Troy and the Alter, slicing her up and murdering our child.

“I called in for a sub.”

“What are you doing?” She followed my hands as they worked over the bedspread.

I met her eyes.
Real pain…
“Trying not to touch you.”

Tears filled her
gaze, and she pressed her cheek to the pillow. “
Just hold me
,” she whispered.

She was in my arms before she could finish her words. I kept her under the blankets, and me over, trying for some sense of decency. When she curled into my arms, I dropped the back of my head against the headboard, closing my eyes tightly and gripping her to me.

Over and over I combed my fingers through her hair, unknotting tangles, avoiding touching her body as much as possible. I let my eyes wander around her bedroom, reading a Socrates quote out loud and admiring her swimming medals.

Distract her.

The dream fades in time; get through the next hours. “You’re fast- I’ve seen your records,” I commented on one trophy.

“I can hold my breath for a really long time.”

I shifted slightly, kicking my shoes to the edge of the bed. I wished I’d thrown on jeans instead of khakis and the dress shirt, but I’d already been dressed for class when I called her. “Clever use of your talent,” I smiled down at her.

“It’s not nice to tease,
Mr. Perry,” she said, actually managing to sound playful.

And then she pressed her face to my chest.

Through the thin cotton, I felt my skin tighten, and inevitably I knew what would come next. Shifting away from her, I didn’t want to frighten her with my erection jammed into her thigh.

“
West
,” I corrected, quietly. Her hair, so soft, smelled wonderful; without thinking, I moved my mouth to the crown of her head, pressing a familiar kiss to her hair.

She stiffened.

“I’m feeling a little calmer. I need to go take a shower.” She drew away, and I let her go, knowing I’d gone too far. “I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes.”

I watched her disappear into the bathroom, and heard the click of the door locking.

The bags with my laptop and books remained in my Pilot; I retrieved them, carrying them to the living room and settling in.

I needed to focus.

While it was my responsibility to help her through this and calm her after the nightmares, I had to be less familiar with her. I needed to create a partnership environment, not a romantic one.

All
I want to do is kiss her.

I submerged my thoughts in the books, and after a while, I heard her ask if I wanted something to drink.

“No, I want you to come rest on the couch, or back in bed,” I answered, continuing to read a passage on wormholes.

“What are you reading?”

When she dropped to the couch next to me, I turned to her.

Pajamas.
Well, those yoga pants as girls called them now (once upon a time they were called sweatpants) and a thin, gray V-neck. Glasses. Long, wet hair.

“Sorry- I didn’t think you’d care if I wore sweats.”

I dug my fingers into my temple. That fresh, vanilla smell, like warm cookies and sunshine, overwhelmed my senses.

“It’s not that. You look about twelve years old in your glasses and pajamas.” Guilt gnashed at my gut. “Roam, I’m so sorry. I found you too early. I should have waited.”

She crossed her legs beneath her on the couch, gathering her hair to one shoulder. “You couldn’t have waited. He’s here.” She pointed to the coordinates on her arm.

The numbers for Madison, Ohio
. The location of the Soul Alter.

“You are so young to have to deal with all of this. The dreams- they are terrifying. They have the potential to drive you insane. That’s not an expression,” I clarified.

I asked her about the dream, and we discussed the numbers and the mirrors she was seeing. We talked about going to Russia, where the reverse coordinates led, but agreed that we had no idea what we were looking for.

What
I
was looking for. There was no fucking way I was taking her out of the country.

When she said something about marrying Logan, I bit back a thousand questions. Why
marry
him? Because he’s going to boot camp? Because you think that’s the only way to keep each other when you go your separate ways? She was only seventeen, he eighteen.

“In any life, was our child born?”

I knew the questions that were coming. I always thought I’d be more prepared, but it was times like these I just wanted a cigarette so damn badly.

“No.”

When she asked if I had any other children,
that
was new. I spoke of Laurel and Violet honestly, and suddenly, she was on her feet.

“Why are you upset?” I asked, very quietly, knowing she was on the verge of breaking down by just the pitch in her voice.

She opened her mouth to answer me, and then closed it. Finally, she sighed. “I don’t understand why, I just am,” she confessed. “And I’m jealous for some stupid reason that I- I can’t figure out. And I…,”

So that was it.
The magical lust, the jealousy, the unearthly pull. “Our destiny- our fates- are designed to form a bond. It is chemical, pre-determined. Nothing can stop it. Nothing but you and I.”

She stared at me. “And you want to stop it.”

I fucking
had
her. She was staring up at me through her glasses, her lush, green eyes the color the grass after a spring thunderstorm. I
had
her; I could say anything, touch her in any way, and she’d be mine.

And I knew how it’d end.

“Nothing good comes of us, Roam.”

Not this time. Not this girl.

I wouldn’t let her die.

Julie

Her head bobbed before me, and I lay back, groaning and locking my hands into her long hair. I shoved her head down even further, and Julie moaned as though sucking my dick was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

“Move,” I growled, knowing she’d be pissed if I came in her mouth.

She pulled back, her fingers continuing to slide up and down my shaft. “I’m the only one who can do this to you. Not any of those other fucking girls, just me, Wes. Me.”

I groaned, coming hard, and she flopped down on the bed next to me, satisfied.

“You and all the other yous,” I fumbled for the joint next to the bed, lighting it without looking her way. “Amina gave a better blow job.”

“Fuck
you
,” she snapped, completely naked, resting her hand on her growing middle. “I’m sick of getting fatter. Every day.”

“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant,” I corrected, taking a long drag and holding it for a moment. Exhaling, I turned to her. “You still have seven months to go, Jules.”

“I think it’s a girl. Girls make you ugly. They suck all your beauty, and now I look like a hag.”

I gripped her naked breast, squeezing. “You’re
smokin.”

G
rinning, she wore only her wedding ring. “I want to ask you something.”