Salvation (Without You Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Author’s Note

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2021 by C. A Mariah

  Cover Design & Interior Formatting: TRC Designs

  Editing Services: Nice Girl Naughty Edits

  All rights reserved.

  Salvation is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of actual persons, living or dead, events, or location is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form without the written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  For more information, address: [email protected]

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book contains material that may not be suitable for all readers as it contains dark themes that may be triggering to some. Those triggers include, but are not limited to, situations of abuse of various kinds, as well as sexual assault and attempted suicide.

  Salvation is a dark romance with heavy themes and triggering subjects. The situations portrayed in this story are not to be taken lightly.

  DEDICATION

  To you,

  for gasping for air when it would have been easier to drown.

  And just when you thought you couldn’t do it,

  You survived.

  PROLOGUE

  AMIRA

  Friday

  January 1, 2021

  Solime Canyon

  I shouldn’t be here.

  I should be in bed, sleeping peacefully next to the man I love, choosing to be ignorant of our situation while snuggling deeply into his core, willing the nightmares to go away.

  But I’m not.

  Instead, I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror at two-thirty in the morning, staring at the reflection of a woman I hardly recognize.

  The murky, yellow lights deepen the purple bags under my eyes, making them appear dull and sunken in their sockets, worsening the look of my clammy, olive skin.

  My hair lies in brittle waves down my chest, curling with barely any life over my protruding rib cage.

  Bruises and lesions no longer mar my skin, but I can still feel them. Every lump, bump, and scar that has been imprinted on my soul and burned into my bones, I feel every single one of them.

  Gabriel’s death should have been liberating, and for a moment, it was.

  For a second, I almost thought that Roman and I were going to have a happily ever after. Our demons aren’t entirely behind us, but they’re not right in our faces.

  I felt at peace for about a week. Real, undiluted peace.

  Breathing didn’t feel so forced, and laughing came easy.

  And then his voice came back, whispering threatening words from beyond the grave, once again destroying everything.

  I don’t know what to do.

  Roman hates to see me cry, so I do my best to keep it from him, but how do I hide this?

  How do I prevent him from seeing the chills that blister my skin whenever I sense Gabriel’s haunting presence somewhere near me?

  What do I say when I constantly look over my shoulder and stare at a man who isn’t there?

  I feel like I’m going fucking crazy, and there’s no one I can talk to about it.

  ‘You can talk to me.’

  How does this even happen?

  “You’re dead,” I say to the man in the mirror behind me.

  He looks the same as the day he died, with beady black eyes that glare into the deepest parts of me.

  His stare has always touched my soul and turned it black, and even in his death, as an apparition created by my own mind, the look in his gaze stirs the same fear I’ve always felt.

  “You’re dead….” I repeat, slamming my eyes shut in the hopes that when I reopen them, everything will be as it should be. Gabriel will be gone, and I get to be happy.

  “You’re dead,” I say one last time before opening my eyes.

  Tears instantly fall from my face, burning my skin as the tracks scour wounds that never seem to close fully.

  But you’re dead…

  ‘Not to you, Mira baby.’

  CHAPTER ONE

  AMIRA

  Saturday

  March 13, 2021

  Solime Canyon

  Blood drips into my mouth as I chew on the broken skin of my lip. My breathing deepens as I stare at an eighteen-year-old Roman on the screen.

  “Police are still searching for the young man who shot and killed an Augustus County Sheriff around the date of December 4, 2020. The suspect, Roman Marcello, who was recently released from prison on a second-degree murder charge, is believed to be armed and dangerous. Do not approach. If spotted, please call the number on the screen—”

  I mute the television when I hear a car pull up outside of the house at three-thirty in the morning. Then, taking Shadow off of my lap and placing her on the spot beside me, I stand, slowly creeping to the curtain on the window to gaze out.

  I drop the shade and shuffle toward the front door with a sigh of relief, opening it wide for Roman and Ash, who are currently walking up the concrete steps.

  “Hey, angel,” Roman says, pulling me in by my waist to give me a kiss on the forehead.

  It feels wrong, accepting Roman’s acts of affection when my mind shrieks the word siblings whenever we touch, but I would feel even worse if I didn’t have these small gestures. So, I silence the voice in my head, screaming what a disgusting woman I am and lean into his lips, savoring the burn like the sinner I am.

  Stepping back, I allow Ash to enter, closing the door swiftly when Shadow comes barging toward me, wanting to be outside.

  “How was your night?” I ask, securing all the locks before bending low to swipe Shadow into my arms, almost dropping her when her wiggling becomes too much to handle. She’s obsessed with Roman, and the minute he comes into view, all she wants is him.

  “Fucking great! Your man got a little over a grand stuffed into his fucking shoe right now!” Ash shouts from the kitchen, dishes clanking as he rummages in the fridge for the steak and pasta I cooked earlier.

  I tear my gaze away from the kitchen doorway, ready to ask about his night, when I stop, my eyes halting on Roman, who is currently glaring at the news still playing on the TV.

  “Don’t watch this shit. All you’re going to do is worry yourself,” he says, stomping over to the coffee table to snatch the remote and shut it off.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, scratching the top of Shadow’s head to keep myself from staring into Roman’s furious eyes.

/>   He hates it when I watch the news and listen to the stories they have circulating about him; how he’s an unpredictable murderer who is possibly on the search for his next victim.

  They have no idea who Roman really is; a man who has suffered at the hands of others since he was a child. First his father and then my own. If only the world knew. He would be labeled a hero instead of a criminal.

  “I just wanted to see if they knew anything about you… and McLaren.”

  Throwing the remote on the couch, he scoffs, “That picture is the mugshot I took when I went in. I was a fucking kid, Amira. Thin as a fucking rail, as you’ve said before, with short, cropped hair and no tattoos. They aren’t going to find me with that image, and McLaren? I fucking dare them to dig deeper and find out the truth behind why that fucker is dead. I guarantee I’ll get a fucking medal for it.”

  With another kiss to my head, he gives Shadow a quick rub before spinning around and heading into the bathroom.

  Ash comes out of the kitchen then, a huge rectangular Tupperware container full of fettuccine alfredo held up to his chin as he devours a heaping forkful.

  “He’s right, you know? Nobody is going to be looking for Roman when they see that picture on the screen.”

  Ash’s words do nothing to reassure me, not when I see Roman’s face broadcasted on the national news. I would be a damn moron not to worry.

  “Plus,” Ash continues around a mouth full of food, “no offense, but you two come from shit-fucking-nowhere. This fucking façade of an investigation won’t go on for much longer. Cops just gotta make it seem like they give a shit about their fellow brothers in blue for a little bit before moving on to the next thing.”

  Hope begins to sprout in the center of my chest at his statement, wanting with all my soul for him to be right, so I can stop worrying about Roman being taken from me at any given moment.

  With a great exhale, I nod my head and force the muscles in my jaw to unclench.

  “So… tell me about how tonight went.” I change the subject, giving Shadow a kiss on her head before setting her down on her paws. She ambles away until she reaches her bed on the floor beside the fireplace.

  I follow Ash into the kitchen and sit at the table, watching him gobble down the pasta until the container is mostly empty.

  “It was fucking gold. We went about thirty miles north to some rich fucking college town and sold to this frat that was having a house party. We made almost three fucking grand tonight.”

  “Wow,” I breathe out, completely shocked at the amount they were able to make from kids barely out of high school. I’m grateful that Ash was kind enough to include Roman in his exploits, but it makes me uneasy, especially with the warrant out on Roman.

  “Just, please be careful. D-don’t let him get caught. Okay? Promise me, Ash. I can’t have him being picked up again. They can’t take him from me again.” Panic begins to crawl up my esophagus as the words leave my lips.

  I won’t make it if he’s taken from me again.

  I’m barely holding on to my sanity as it is.

  Ash stares at me for a beat before dropping the Tupperware on the counter and meeting me by the table.

  Gripping my hands in his, he bends low to meet my gaze. “I fucking promise you, Amira, nothing will happen to Roman. I won’t let it. I will take the fucking charge before I ever let him be away from you again. Understand?”

  Ash’s declaration brings tears to my eyes and gratitude to my heart.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, barely able to hold back the emotion choking me up.

  He gives me a tender smile before spinning back around to the counter and sealing up the food.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, watching him stick the pasta back in the fridge.

  “Just for a drive… Or maybe I’ll go harass your cute neighbor,” he says, shrugging his shoulder as he lays out his options. “But I’ll come back. Just make sure you leave Shadow’s bed out so she doesn’t hog up the couch. For a tiny fucking dog, she takes up a lot of space.”

  “Sage probably isn’t even home right now. And, okay, sorry about that. I’m so used to sleeping with her, but whenever you’re here, she seems to prefer you.”

  “Why wouldn’t she be home?” he asks, ignoring the second half of my sentence.

  I give him a strange look before thrusting my shoulder into a shrug. “I don’t know. She’s busy on the weekends.”

  At least that’s what I’ve come to notice.

  Every weekend, she leaves her home around ten at night and comes back sometime before five in the morning, but I keep that to myself since what Sage does is none of our business.

  “Hmmm,” Ash grumbles before waving me goodbye and slipping out of the front door, promising to come back before the sun rises at seven.

  After I, once again, engage the locks, I call Shadow to follow me to the room, shutting off each light as I go.

  Steam from Roman’s shower flows out from under the bathroom door, warming my feet as I walk down the hall to our spare room.

  Shadow’s black little head shoves open the door, jumping onto the bench at the end of the bed to snuggle into her pink fur donut-shaped cushion.

  Kicking off the emerald green fuzzy house slippers Roman recently bought me, I pull back the quilted navy-blue duvet and slip underneath. The cuffs of my black sweatpants ride up my calves as I shimmy under the blanket, twisting uncomfortably around my knees.

  I’m fixing my pajamas when the bedroom door pushes open, and Roman’s wet, shirtless form enters the room. Droplets of water drip down his soaked hair, leaving tiny dark dots on the carpet as he steps farther into the room.

  “We match,” I mumble sleepily, staring at the same black sweats on his legs that are on mine.

  His deep chuckle tickles my insides, but what really gets my heart fluttering is the slow dip of his chin and the teasing slowness of his lips falling toward me before their weight lands on mine.

  Roman steals my breath as he parts my lips, the tip of his tongue hesitantly reaching out to touch mine.

  He’s always slow during these sensual moments, making sure I’m aware of every single movement, every touch and kiss, before continuing. Still, when his weight lands on top of me, the pressure of his chest causes my heart to stutter painfully. That’s when fright takes hold of me and the moment between us crumbles to dust.

  “Roman.”

  “Sorry! Sorry.”

  Taking himself off of me, he stumbles away from the bed with hands clasped behind his neck as he paces the room, breathing through the erection tenting his sweats.

  My body cries out in need, mentally begging me to let him take care of the desire building between my legs, but my heart…

  I’m just not ready.

  “Roman?” I call out, watching the muscles in his back rise and fall in jerky motions.

  His hand shoots out, fingers shaking the slightest bit. “It’s okay, angel.” His voice sounds like gravel in his tensing throat.

  I swallow back the embarrassment and disappointment that crawls up from my stomach and nod my head, turning so my back is to him, so he doesn’t see the tears of shame slipping past my eyes.

  The glowing yellow light from the lamp clicks off, then moments later, he slips into bed beside me. I try my hardest to keep my body from shaking as my cries threaten to break me, but just like a second ago, I fail at that as well.

  “Don’t cry, my love. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. I’m all fucked up and… and...”

  “And nothing. I don’t want to hear you say shit like that about yourself anymore. Fucking got me?” he asks, seriousness entering his eyes as he stares at me in the darkness. The sliver of light from the streetlamps outside allows me to see his gaze shifting across my face, a tiny pinch between his black brows as he waits for me to respond.

  I don’t have anything to say, and since I don’t want to lie to him or make promises I can’t keep, I choose to keep my mouth shut.

 
He exhales in mild annoyance at my silence but drops the conversation entirely.

  Roman opens his arms, and I slide into his comfort in an instant. Sleep is almost nonexistent for both of us, but I’ve found that once we’re in each other’s embrace, the idea of closing our eyes and letting the darkness in is almost bearable.

  “I love you,” I whisper, needing him to know that before our night ends.

  As I close my eyes, slowly drifting into unconsciousness, I feel the plump skin of his lips press against my forehead.

  “I love you too, angel.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  ROMAN

  The sound of Amira’s sleepy whispers stirs me awake. Her mumbled nonsense making me smile as I shift in bed to watch her.

  Sunlight burns my eyes as I peel my eyelids open, but the pain is worth it when I see the slight tilt of her lips. Her soft, sleepy smile causes my chest to ache painfully.

  Gently, I push the hair away from her face so I can gaze at her without obstruction.

  The softness of her skin calls out for my touch, so I answer with a tender swipe of my thumb against her cheek. I’ll never get used to the feeling of her underneath the rough pads of my fingers.

  I rub soft circles on her flesh until she begins to rustle with my touch. Her mumbled groans and the annoyed furrow in between her brows bring a smile to my face. I know I should leave her and let her sleep, but she needs to wake up.

  “Let me sleep,” she murmurs, trying to shake away my touch.

  The clock reads two in the afternoon. It’s rare when we get five hours of sleep, but ten is practically unheard of. So, as badly as I want to leave her alone, I need her to be able to sleep unbothered tonight.

  “You’re not going to sleep tonight if you don’t get up now,” I warn, peppering kisses on her eyelids.

  Amira releases a grumbled growl before conceding, slowly cracking open her lids to prepare for the assault of the sun.

  “Hey, angel.” I kiss the tip of her nose before moving down to her lips.