Rush (Roam Series, Book Four) (28 page)

I stared at her for a long moment before turning back to the fireplace. “I never heard you
say that word before. Ever.”

“
Oh, I save it for
very
special occasions. Congratulations.”

“Is Violet here?”

“Oh, your wife?” She exhaled quickly as I lit a piece of newspaper with the lighter. “No, she’s not.”

“You came here alone?” I sized her up; her fuzzy, off-white snowcap contrasted with her dark hair, and the melting snowflakes dampened each strand on her face. I recognized her coat;
her gift from Morgan from last Christmas was the same shade of cream as her hat and gloves.

“I took my final exam, booked a flight, and left. I didn’t call West until I landed in Ireland.”

“How’d you know I was here? I mean,
right
here? The coordinates aren’t exact.”

She gave me a sarcastic eye roll. “
Seriously? Trim Castle? From
Braveheart
. I knew as soon as my numbers changed to Ireland. You always wanted to come here.” She shrugged, all but sticking her hands directly into the fire. “I asked around.”

The poignancy of her remembering my favorite movie almost made me forget all that we’d been through.

“And you’re here because…?”

“I’m here to
bring you home.”

I
raised one eyebrow, standing from my crouched position and moving to the cabinet in the small, unfinished kitchen. The half-empty bottle of whiskey fit neatly in my hand as I flipped a glass for a sniff-test.
Clean enough.
“You wasted your time. But it’s nice to see you.”

“It’s Christmas, Logan.”

“Really?” I couldn’t hide my bitter sarcasm.

She brushed her hands against her jeans, standing and taking a hesitant step toward me. I tipped the glass, swallowing the burning liquid in one gulp. “You couldn’t even say goodbye to her? I think she deserved that.”

The liquor did little to dull the piercing ache in my chest as I thought about Violet. Her frantic texts had become angry, and then desperate, and she finally stopped calling and texting in November.

“She’s better off without me.”

“Wow.” She tucked her hands into her pockets, staring me down. “So you’re really doing this to her. First West, and then you.”

I slammed the glass down on the counter, closing in on her. She jumped, widening her eyes as I towered over her. “The only reason I’m letting you stand there and
bitch
at me is out of respect for our friendship. But you’re crossing the line, Roam. Go home to your fucking perfect family, and leave me the hell
alone
.”

Her lip quivered, but she raised her
chin, refusing to cower. “At least offer me a drink.”

Keeping my eyes locked in the depths of her green gaze, I reached for the glass. “I have whiskey or water. And you’re only twenty.”

“I can drink at eighteen- in Ireland.”

A slow smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, but I managed- just barely- to keep my severe glare. “Of course you know that. You know
everything
.”

She ignored my
snide remark, reaching for the bottle. “I don’t need a glass.”

Finally, after she held her breath for endless seconds, I gave in to my smirk. “Alright, Cam. After you,” I held my hand out to the fire, and she slid the bottle of Jameson across the counter, carrying it to the fire.

I waited for her to take a swig, fully expecting her to choke, but instead she followed the first with a second. “I have no reception. Do you have a phone?”

Reaching for the dusty shelf next to the fireplace, I retrieved my iPhone and tossed it to the rug. “Dead.”

“Well, West knows I’m here. His numbers would have changed.”

I reached for the bottle, and she handed it over. Taking a long drink, I settled down to poke at the fire. “How is she?”

“Violet? She’s… alone. She moved to North Carolina.”

“
What?
” I narrowed my eyes, rolling back on my heels. “Why?”

“Why? Why did
you
leave
her?”

“I didn’t leave her, I just
left
.”

“You left your new wife. You left everyone who loves and cares about you.”
I watched her pull off her coat, gloves, and hat, before working on her boots.

“Don’t get too comfortable. You’re leaving.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“You’ll leave
- when I kick your ass out into the snow.”

“You can’t kick my ass, Logan.” She groaned, finally pulling her foot out of the boot.

“Without your sword,” I leaned closer, lowering my voice, “you’re just a
scared little girl.
”

She reached for my unshaven face, her cool hand cupping my cheek. “I’m not scared…
when I’m with you.
”

“Oh, go to hell, Roam.”

“Hey.” She shivered, casting me an injured glance. “That’s mean.”

“
Mean?” I leaned back against the broken couch, trying not to slide the pile of telephone books from their propping position beneath the missing leg. “I swear to God, you flew three thousand miles to get on my last fucking nerve.”

She straightened and rolled her shoulders back.
“You need your wife, and Violet needs you-…,”

“Don’t tell me what she needs, or what
I
need! We’re done, Camden- you and me- there is
nothing
here between us anymore. You’re not even
you
anymore- you’re this fake, robotic
version
of you. I don’t even know you, and you sure as hell don’t know me. You don’t have some special claim on me, and you had no right
hunting
me down here. I’m an adult, I make my own choices, so leave me the
fuck
alone.”

She stared at me for long, quiet seconds. I felt a twinge of guilt, quickly beating it down with my pride.

Finally, she set the bottle to the floor, tucking her knees to her chin. “You’re right.”

“I know.”

She flashed her middle finger in my direction, cocking her head to the side and raising her eyebrows.

I laughed- I couldn’t help it. She attempted to curl her lips and resist a smile, but her teeth flashed before she buried her face into her knees.

“Okay. Now that I got all of that off my chest… are you hungry?”

“That depends. There is a
dirty-looking cat standing on your counter. Are you suggesting eating here?”

“That’s Isabella.”

“As in
Queen
Isabella? As in the most blatantly inaccurate historical figure in
Braveheart
?”

I glanced around, puffing air quickly from my lips. “Come on, get your shit back on.”

She grinned and reached for her boots.

We ended up at the Trim Castle Hotel, taking Roam’s rental car. When I realized she’d checked into a room there, I breathed easier; there was no way she was staying in the old, two room bungalow with me.

“Listen, this has to be your treat. Sorry.”

The waiter gave me an obvious
whatta-douchebag
glance as he led us toward a table, but I decided to ignore him. “Bar,” I corrected, taking Roam’s elbow.

“That’s fine,” she said softly, climbing into the bar seat next to mine. “Are you working, Logan?”

“Odd jobs, here and there.”

“Well, we have more than enough.”

“Riiight. West and his immortal 401K.”

“Everything is… honest now. He’s very smart, and knows his way around the stock market.”

“I really don’t care.” Smiling sweetly, I gestured to the bartender. “Bottle of Bulmers. Roam?”

She bit her lip
and clamped her hands together, staring anxiously on the back wall of the mirrored bar. I sighed.
So much for whiskey-drinking-trucker-mouthed Roam.

“
I’ll have… a Sex on the Beach?”

“Ah, no beach h
ere,” the bartender winked. I rolled my eyes as he flipped at his floppy bangs about three times while blatantly flirting with her. Playing his accent up a notch, he obviously pinned her as fair game after my ‘you’re paying’ comment. “Sex by the
Castle
, we say.”

Don’t fucking blush,
I ordered her silently. She leaned back in her chair, shrugging.

“Of course,” she muttered, waving her hand. “Whatever.”

An Irish band began warming up. Our drinks arrived, and I took a long swig as she sipped through her tiny, orange straw, cringing.

“You didn’t really drink my whiskey at the house, did you.”

“No. I’m good at pretending. I do it all the time.”

“Your acting skills have come a long way.” I leaned closer to her. “You know that acting in real life is just called lying, right?”

She met my eyes. “Define ‘real life.’”

“Huh.” I nodded once, tipping the bottle. “Noted. Okay, you have to eat something with that.” I ordered vegetable spring rolls, knowing she’d ignore them when they came but making the effort anyway.
“So, how are the kids?”

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled.
“Christopher is saying ‘Da-da.’ And he says ‘Vaa’ for Eva. I took his pacifier away last week and it was horrible… but he was over it within two days.” She took another brave sip before stirring the ice around in the glass. “Eva is dancing. Violet got her involved with ballet, and when she’s not listening to music or dancing, she’s doing something artistic. She loves Kindergarten.”

“Violet is dancing again?”

She kept her eyes down. “She was. Before she moved to the ocean. She was an assistant teacher for the ballet school Eva was going to. She talked about finishing her degree and opening her own dance school.”

I thought of her in my arms as she danced with me, and my chest burned.
Stop thinking about her.
“And you’re finishing school?”

“Of course I am. Online. West arranged for them to let me take classes from home. I only have to go to New Jersey for a few exams, but it’s fine.”

“And Mathison?”

She stiffened
, rolling the glass between her hands. “We didn’t press charges. West speaks to him regularly. He really has good intentions… and he understands this life now, and how you won’t hurt us.”

The fact that our world would burn if Eva died here- the other half of the prophecy- I’d shared with West only.
I wonder if he told her.

I
sat back as the bartender placed the spring rolls in front of us. He leaned on the counter toward Roam. “You’re a guest here, aren’t you? I saw you earlier?”

And… there was the blush. I slapped my right hand over her left, pulling it up and into his face. Her wedding ring filled his line of vision. “Fuck off,” I growled.

She wrenched her hand away from mine, and the bartender held his palms up, flat in the air. “Okay, okay. Just being friendly.”

“Logan,” Roam scowled in my direction. “What is
wrong
with you?”

“
Eat.” I pointed at the spring rolls, and she frowned.

“Violet told me what happened. At the lake, before West and I got there. You didn’t hurt her, and you were just caught… in the moment, and-…,”

“When West killed you in 1977, you had
thirty-five years
to forgive him. Not to mention a whole new
life
. I killed Violet in that basement, and I almost killed her by the lake. You can make excuses for me, or find reason, or pretend everything’s okay, but I can’t.”

She
stared at me with wide, sad eyes. “You still have nightmares?”

“I am a killer, Roam.”

She jumped as her phone began ringing in her pocket, and reached for it. “It’s West. Finally, reception.” She answered his call. “Hey. I’m fine. Yes, I found him. We’re sitting at a restaurant talking. No,” she lowered her voice, and I turned away. “I’m really fine. Okay. Love you, too.”

“
I can’t believe he let you come here alone.”

“He didn’t.” She tucked the phone back into her pocket. “I told you, I left.”

Irritated with West for no reason, I made a conscious decision to be an utter asshole. “West isn’t doing it for you anymore?”

Her
jade eyes darkened, condemning me for my words. “West is the only one who will ever ‘do it for me.’ So,
screw
you, Rush. Obviously, I’m wasting my time.” She dug into her purse before slapping money on the countertop. “You’ll never know how much you’ve thrown your life away. I pity you.”

I counted to ten before downing the rest of my beer and going after her. She stood alone in the elevator, and I smacked the closing doors, joining her before she could protest.
I locked her against the wall of the elevator with my arms, glaring down at her.