Free Eternal by London Saint James Page A

a
whirlpool tub, and a fireplace mounted in the wall. Over-top the tub was an art
deco chandelier, which shimmered and was positioned within a coved ceiling.
    “This will be your room,”
Chandler
announced. He let go of my hand.
“Winter, please know you are safe here.”
    “It is Cayden I am worried about
Chandler
, not me.”
    “Winter, Cayden is safe. Everything is going to
be fine.”
Chandler
’s
voice was calm as he spoke. “If you would like I can stay with you until my
brother comes home.”
    “You don’t need to do that.”
    “I would do it,” he said. “I know all of this is
strange for you. I know you are not use to screaming crowds, cameras, and all
the crazy things people will do. I really do understand so if you need me to
stay—”
    “Please do not feel like you need to babysit me.
I will be okay. I am sorry you seen me fall apart like this.”
    Chandler
glanced away from me for a moment. He scrubbed the back of his neck
with his right hand then placed both hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“I understand how overwhelming all of this can be. I know you worry for my
brother, but if you are going to stick around you need to find a way to cope.”
He looked back at me. “This is your home, too. Use anything; take a swim, the
house and the grounds are yours. Relax, Winter, and don’t worry so much,”
Chandler
told me. He
turned for the door. “Oh, and don’t worry about
Logan
calling you. He and I had a come to
Jesus talk while you slept on the plane.”
    Without further explanation,
Chandler
exited the room I assumed was
Cayden’s bedroom. I studied the space and stared at the huge bed as well as the
deep navy blue bedding, edged in white, and covered by numerous pillows. The
headboard was upholstered in white leather that extended up the wall. Behind
the floating wall where the bed rested against was the balcony and sitting
area. The ceiling was high in addition to an alcove adorned with hidden lights
that shown from behind the carved moldings of the cove. The light fixtures were
silver, sleek, and covered in etched glass and reminded me of pieces of art,
not lighting.
    On the west end of Cayden’s room was an entire
ten-foot wall of bookshelves, covered in books. My gaze went to them. They
ranged from timeless classics to modern masterpieces. Placed among the shelves
that followed to the right of the paperbacks were vinyl records and hundreds of
CD’s. A cozy sitting area, which reminded me of a plush lounge, was upholstered
in rich navy-blue velvet couches and wrapped around a curving wall. This area
also held high tech audio equipment.
    I slowly walked forward in wonder, staring at
Cayden’s vast book collection. It was a small library. I reached out and ran my
fingers over the bindings. He had some original manuscripts that must be
priceless as well as several original leather bound books. My fingers stopped
on a pristine first edition copy of
Wuthering
Heights
.
I pulled it gently from the shelf. I found a silken emerald green bookmark
dangling from the end of the book. I tenderly opened the book to the page
marked and found one passage highlighted from Chapter Nine.
    “I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed
with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they’ve gone through and through me
like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.”
    And then I thought about one of my favorite
passages from the book and turned the pages to find it. “...Be with me
always--take any form--drive me mad! only DO not leave me in this abyss, where
I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I
CANNOT live without my soul!” Emily Bronte,
Wuthering
Heights
, Chapter Sixteen. It was highlighted,
too.
    Beneath the row of timeless classics was a shelf
dedicated to my books. Cayden had every book I’d ever written, all eighteen in
alphabetical order, with what looked like a hand-sketched picture of my eyes that
was propped up against the back