Free Rise (Roam Series, Book Three) by Kimberly Stedronsky Page A

arms.
    “You’ve always been afraid of thunder. It’s even louder here.”
    His fingers slid over my arms, and I stiffened as they brushed past the cuts. He lifted my arm, lightening flashing in the window and illuminating the deep, red slices in my skin. “Logan…”
    “What- is he cutting you? Jesus,” he turned my other arm, and then reached for my neck. I backed away, shaking my head.
    “No, stop. He’s not hurting me.”
    “I will fucking kill him . He told me he wouldn’t hurt you!”
    “He’s not ,” I repeated, glancing at the bathroom my breath quickened. “I… let this happen. I… wanted it .” Ashamed, I pressed my forehead to his chest, gripping his upper arms with all of my strength.
    He sighed, scooping me into his arms and carrying me to the bed.
    I crawled under the covers, and he slipped in and backed against me, smoothing my hair as he did so often before. “Sleep. Maybe we’ll dream together again.”
    “Not the King Cone. Anywhere but there.”
    He smiled against my hair. “How about… Cedar Point?” He asked, the amusement park sparking homey memories that made me smile into the darkness.
    “Or our spot at the lake. Toes in the sand.”
    “ The fence in my backyard,” he murmured, and I caught my breath as his hand slid over my waist. “Or the Indian’s game,” he stopped exploring, finding my fingers and lacing his with mine.
    “ My bedroom.”
    “The back seat of my Camry.”
    “Logan, nothing happened back there and you know it.”
    “It almost happened.”
    “But it didn’t.”
    “Because I was honorable.”
    “You were just as nervous as I was,” I pointed, remembering when he’d first gotten the Camry and taken us to a park after sunset. “And you were afraid the cops were going to haul us in and call our parents.”
    “ Maybe,” he conceded. “But I got your shirt off.”
    “Up, not off, and for less than ten seconds.”
    “Up, off, what’s the difference.”
    “I don’t want you to move,” I backed against him, and he stiffened. “I miss you so much. You’re like home.”
    “ Shh . Just go to sleep.”
    Closing my eyes, I finally gave in.
     
    The cell reeks of urine.
    I press my heavy sleeve to my nose, cringing as the man walks to the bars, his dark, blue eyes tormented. “My sweet child.”
    “Father,” West moves next to me, his sword drawn and stained with blood. “Tell me what you need. I will get it for you.”
    “Your arm,” he reaches for me, and I extend my left arm through the bars of the cell. His filthy fingers slide my sleeve up, and his hand curls on my skin. “I will save you, my beautiful girl, and my grandchild.”
    The numbers begin their torturous etch, and I drop to my knees, screaming and lifting my eyes to West’s.
    “What is he doing?” Logan tries to run for me, but West draws his sword.
    “You shall die, and so shall your brother-…,”
    “Hold on, West- Roam, it’s me- we’re dreaming this together. Let her go!”
    “You dream?” The old man releases me, and I slide to the ground, staring at my arm. Coordinates, numbers I don’t recognize.
    “Asher,” I reach for his hand, gripping it lovingly. “West’s father.”
    “Find me, sweet child… I will help you…,”
     
    “Roam, I have to go,” Logan whispered, rousing me from the deep sleep. I sat up as I realized he was next to me. The sun was beginning to rise. “You have to distract the guards so I can slip out.”
    “Logan,” I held my arm out in front of me, staring at my skin.
    The numbers.

Chapter Seven
    “ Our dream… the old man gave you numbers.” Logan traced his fingers over my arm, cringing at the long cuts between the digits. “Who was he?”
    “West’s father… the one who created the spell… the prophecy.”
    “ Really . I have a few choice words for him .”
    “Logan, he said find me .” I cleared my throat, still groggy from sleep. “But these aren’t coordinates…”
    Knocking interrupted us. He moved with me,