Salvation (Without You Book 2) Read online

  “We don’t need that,” I say, watching him stick two boxes of cookie cereal in the cart, stacking them on top of each other.

  “Do you want me to be happy?”

  I’m taken aback by his question, jerking my head at an angle while I answer. “Of course, I do.”

  “Then we need these,” he retorts, giving me a pointed look before taking the cart's handle and rolling it away.

  Someone enters as we turn to leave, crashing their cart into ours.

  “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you coming!”

  I look into the pitch-black eyes of a tall, muscular man in his early fifties and take a step back. His deep, husky voice sends shivers of dread down my spine.

  No, no.

  This isn’t real.

  He isn’t real!

  My breathing increases to a dangerous tempo, the muscle beating furiously against my rib cage until a throbbing pain starts in my sternum.

  Roman steps between the stranger and me, shielding me from his stare while I grip my tensing throat in my hand.

  My pounding pulse drowns out any exterior noise, making it impossible to understand the conversation between them both.

  With my forehead pressed against Roman’s back, I attempt to control my breathing, but the moment I cast my gaze up and stare into the abyss of Gabriel’s eyes as he passes me by, I feel myself sink. It’s only after a blink that I realize his eyes aren’t black but cornflower blue. The look on his face isn’t malicious but curious and apologetic.

  “I’m sorry again,” he says, shooting me one last concerned glare before fading from my sight completely.

  Roman flips over, holding me in his arms. I feel his gaze burning holes in the top of my head as I stare down at the floor, droplets of water falling down my cheeks as I apologize over and over again.

  “It’s okay, angel. But what the hell just happened?”

  It was him.

  How could you not see that?

  I feel the panic beginning to creep up my spine, making it almost impossible to hold my tears back.

  “Can I wait in the car… please?” I whisper, silently pleading with him not to ask me any questions until we’re in private.

  He stares into my eyes for a moment before handing me the keys. “I’ll watch you from here.” He nudges his head toward the large windows at the front of the store, where we can clearly see our car parked.

  I want to beg him to come with me and walk me to my seat to know I’m safe, but I don’t do that. Swallowing my fear, I take the keys from his palm and spin on my heel, rushing out of the store until I feel the fresh breeze on my face.

  I feel his eyes on my back the entire journey to the car, his concern making the hair on the back of my neck stand to attention. I waste no time disengaging the lock to hide inside, burying my head in my hands to catch my breath.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Amira?” I ask myself, banging my knuckles against my head as I think over the meltdown I had in front of Roman and everyone else who was staring.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mumble, squeezing my temples with my first two fingers to get rid of the headache I feel coming on.

  I don’t know how long I stay in this position with my legs curled up to my chest as I rest my chin on my knees, rubbing circles on my head to alleviate the pain, but a knock raps on my window, eliciting a scream from my throat.

  “Open the trunk, babe.”

  Hand to my chest, I reach across the seat and push the button to the back.

  Unbuckling my belt, I emerge from the car, moving to join Roman in the back to help him unload the cart.

  My thoughts are too preoccupied from earlier to notice his purchases. He didn’t have my list, so I know he didn’t get everything or possibly anything that we needed, but at this moment, I can’t find it in myself to care.

  The drive back home is strained. I know Roman is eager to grill me about what happened at the store, but he’s patient enough to wait until we get back home.

  I cry silent tears the entire drive back, head tucked into my chest as I lay against the door. Roman senses my distress, his hand never leaving my back as he rubs circles on my trembling body all the way home.

  “Come on, angel,” Roman says, shutting off the engine, waiting until I unbuckle my belt and exit the car to do the same.

  Arms loaded full with groceries, we struggle to get the front door open, but the second we do, the smell of Ash’s alcohol-soaked body assaults both mine and Roman’s senses, making us retch back when we walk inside.

  Hand over my mouth, I force back the bile that wants to come up. That overwhelming scent of tequila reminds me of the day's dad would come home drunk, his sickly breath still present in my nose as he forced his tongue down my throat.

  “Oh, God,” I gag out, dropping the food to the living room floor as I rush through the house, hurrying to lock myself in my room.

  Shadow’s little feet run behind me, slipping into the room before I shut her out.

  The room is like my safety net, with its creamy beige walls and calming aroma of gardenias. Usually, it makes breathing a little easier, but it fails me today. First, the brief sighting of Gabriel in a stranger's face, and now Ash, his scent reminding me of my father.

  This is too much…

  I can’t handle this right now!

  Running my hands through my curls, I breathe in my mother’s favorite flower instead and sink to the floor.

  I do my best not to think of my father, or Liam, or any of the other men; try not to sink into the black hole that is my mind… but the universe is not on my side today.

  ‘Or maybe you just miss me, Mira baby.’

  “No, no, no. Please don’t.”

  It’s like he never left, his spirit taking up residence inside me. I’ve successfully ignored his voice until now. My walls have been sturdy, and the cage I’ve secured around my heart has held firm until this moment.

  Why does he have to torment me, even in his death?

  When does this finally stop?

  “Augh!” I growl, ripping my hair at the roots as I rock back and forth on the floor.

  I feel Shadow lightly brush up against my leg, her whimpers muted under the gurgling sound of my father’s laughter echoing in my mind.

  Through all the noise, I hear the door creak open, the bottom of the wood gliding slowly over the synthetic fibers of the carpet as footsteps sound on the floor, making their way to me.

  I don’t remember closing my eyes or holding my breath so profoundly I’m on the verge of collapse.

  My heart is beating too wildly, my breathing coming in short, painful gasps, keeping my eyes sealed shut. For the life of me, I cannot get them open to reassure me that it’s Roman coming toward me and not the ghost of my dad.

  Just open your eyes, and you’ll see that everything is okay.

  Everything is okay.

  Everything is-

  “Amira?”

  A pocket of air gets trapped in my trachea as I inhale, choking me until tears leak from my eyes.

  “Angel. Hey, it’s me. Look at me.”

  My eyes shoot open on his command, making breathing a little easier when I gaze into the green rings of his hazel eyes.

  Roman deepens his breathing, helping me mimic its tempo until I'm no longer stuttering for breath.

  “What happened?” he asks, dropping down beside me.

  Dropping my hands from my hair, I rub my palms over my face, giving myself a moment to compose myself before I try explaining my thoughts.

  “I-I thought I saw someone… and then we came through the door, and it reeks of alcohol. All I could smell was my dad… all I could feel were his hands and his mouth, and I-I… it was just too much at that moment, but I’m okay… See?” I slap a smile on my face, hoping I’m strong enough to hold back the tears that want to come forward again. “I’m fine.”

  I know he doesn’t believe me. His eyes harden into blazing orbs of golden fire as his mouth sets into a firm, straight line, ready to call me out on my bullshit, when the doorbell saves me.

  The loud chime cuts through the tension, both of us exchanging a confused glance before hopping off of the floor.

  Shadow is quick on her feet, running through the bedroom door to the front room, her light barks reverberating through the hallway as we make our way out.

  “Where’s Ash?” I ask, looking around the living room when I no longer smell the overpowering stench of alcohol.

  “Out there,” Roman says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the back door, as he moves to the window, lifting the curtain just enough to peek outside.

  “You put him outside?!”

  “You weren’t the only one he reminded of home, angel,” he says, returning his gaze to the window. “What the hell….”

  “Who is it?” I ask, weariness settling over me when his tone becomes serious.

  Roman gives me a small smile before moving to the door and opening it wide, allowing me to see Sage pacing right outside, a crumpled bouquet of daisies held in her palm.

  “Hey,” Roman says kindly, opening the front door to welcome her inside.

  “Hi. Sorry to bother you guys. I’m sure you have things to do. I, um, found these under my window.” She holds up the damaged flowers. “There was no name, just, uh, ‘Hey, darling.’ I was wondering if Ash was here.”

  Roman turns to look at me, his eyes rolling around his skull as he stares past me to the back door.

  Using my hand, I cover the smirk that begins to pull at my lips, giggling at Ash’s drunken romantic gesture.

  “He’s actually not awake right now, but I’ll send him your way when he is.”

  With a blush tinting her cheeks, she gives each of us a nod, saying her goodbyes before heading back to her home. I don’t miss the way she brings the daisies to her nose, petals falling gracefully behind her as she breathes in their earthly scent.

  “Did I miss something?” I ask once Roman shuts the door, a soft smile gracing his lips as he shakes his head.

  “Nah, but I think someone has a crush.”

  “I think both of them do.”

  Our light conversation once again turns dark as Roman and I gaze into each other’s eyes. He steps toward me, stopping when the tips of his shoes collide with my mine, eyes severe as he asks, “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now,” I lie, still feeling the faint tingles of my father’s fingers down my spine.

  I promised Roman no more lies. We’ve gone through too much to have anything but honesty between us.

  But this isn’t for him, so I must go through it alone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ROMAN

  I listen to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom as I attempt to cook a decent dinner for Amira and me.

  She’s been in a strange mood since we got home from the store earlier, and the darkening sky has only made it so much worse, so I’m counting on this meal to raise her spirits.

  “What the fuck is that smell?”

  I spin around in a huff, too preoccupied with my own thoughts to notice the back door opening and Ash entering the room. Although, I don’t see how I could’ve missed it, considering he still smells like a horse's ass.

  His hair, usually tied up in a bun, hangs in ratty tangles on top of his shoulders, with dirt, grass, and other forms of nature sticking out of his mangled locks. The shirt he was wearing, which was once white, is now stained with various substances.

  “You’re bitching to me about smells? Take a fucking whiff of yourself.”

  “You threw me on the fucking dirt. Did you expect me to smell like roses?” Ash asks, dropping his head onto the table and groaning loudly as he massages his temples, leaving tiny specks of dirt on the clean surface.

  I bark out my laughter as I give the Italian herb chicken in the pan a flip. “I didn’t put you there. Your dumbass must have rolled down the stairs and onto the grass all on your own.”

  “That explains the fucking back pain.” I hear him moan, hands moving from his head to massage the lower part of his spine.

  Yes, it fucking does, I think before remembering Sage’s visit from earlier.

  “Did you fucking hack up the daisies from the lady’s yard across the street?”

  Ash stares at me through bleary, bloodshot eyes, faint confusion in his gaze before nodding his head. “No. I don’t know. Why?”

  “Sage came by earlier with a makeshift bouquet of the neighbor's daisies in her hand and a note that said, ‘Hey, darling.’”

  His eyes widen a fraction before returning his head to the table, mumbled curses flowing from his lips as he bangs his head on the wood.

  “I don’t fucking remember,” he whispers, hands coming up from under the table to aggressively rub the nape of his neck.

  “You don’t remember falling, and you don’t remember ruining our neighbor’s garden, so can you tell me what do you remember? What happened to you?” I ask, moving over to the fridge to grab us a couple of bottled waters.

  Snatching the bottle from my hand, he gulps the entirety of it in a second. The crackling of the plastic grating uncomfortably in my ears.

  “It was my anniversary last night… had to celebrate it.”

  Ah, fuck.

  “Shit. Fuck, dude, I’m sorry… So where’d you go?” I ask, taking in the glossy shine that glazes over his eyes as he stares past my shoulder, his mind taking him to a broken place we all try to stay clear of.

  “Went to the corner store and bought a couple of bottles of my man Julio and then just drove… my car ran outta gas somewhere on the seventy-two, so I laid in some field and drank. I drank until Yasmine was there and kept drinking until she wasn’t. I called a cab sometime around noon, but I don’t remember arriving… next thing I know, I was here, throwing up in your bushes.”

  I ignore the vomit because my mind lingers on what he said before.

  How do you explain to somebody that they won’t find their love at the bottom of a bottle?

  I don’t think you can…

  Pushing away from the counter, I give him a quick pat on the back, pretending to ignore the trickle of moisture coming from his eyes as I offer my comfort. “Fuckin’ sorry, bro.”

  Amira emerges from the hallway then, a somber look in her eyes as she fiddles with her dripping hair. “Hey, Ash. How are you feeling?”

  He doesn’t answer, eyes now fixated on a chip in the wooden table as his mind drifts to another place.

  I open my arms, waiting for her to step into my embrace, but whenever Ash is in a mood like this, she tends to keep her distance, not wanting to flaunt our relationship in front of him.

  Her concern is sweet, but fuck.

  I want her.

  “Like shit. I’m just gonna shower and then sleep. Night guys.” And with that, Ash is gone, slipping past her and into the bathroom.

  My eyes linger on her as hers stare down at the floor.

  I’m just about to ask her what’s on her mind when a shrill beeping rings through the air.

  “Shit!” I shout, spinning around to take the burning chicken off the stove, throwing it in the sink with the lid to contain the smoke coming off of its charred skin.

  The fire alarm stops, and a second later, I feel Amira step up beside me. Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I watch her slap her hand over her mouth, barely holding back the chuckles that slip between her fingers.

  I’m too embarrassed to face her as I listen to the pan sizzling in the wet sink. “I wanted to make your favorite chicken, but, um.”

  “That’s okay. I wasn’t hungry, anyway. Thank you, though.” She rises on her tiptoes to press a kiss on my cheek.

  Before she can pull away, I grip her by the waist and prop her up on the counter. Her legs spread for me instantly, whether it's because of reflex or because she wants me there. Either way, I take advantage and situate myself between her thighs.

  I move slowly, dragging my hands from her waist to rest behind her knees. The soft material of her cotton, grey yoga pants creates friction against my palm, heating my already burning skin.

  Her body leans slightly forward, trembling against me as I press my lips to her collarbone.

  “Is this okay?” I ask as I begin to move my hands more north, my fingers dipping under the hem of her shirt to graze the soft flesh of her stomach.

  Amira doesn’t speak, her breathing coming out in labored puffs as she nods against my head.

  Removing my lips from her neck, I pepper kisses up her jaw and around her lips until she’s needy for my mouth. Finally, after two long, torturous beats, she presses her lips against mine, allowing me to slip through the small part and tangle my tongue with hers.

  My fingers are greedy, searching higher and higher until my thumbs graze the underwire of her bra.

  Testing her limits, I dip my digit under the material, feeling the firm mound of her breast before a strangled gasp leaves her lips.

  I feel her lock underneath my touch, and I know I’ve gone too far. Choking back a groan that vibrates my larynx, I reluctantly pull away, letting my hands drop from her burning skin to hang limply by my sides.

  Her disappointed exhale echoes around the kitchen as she drops her head to her lap.

  I know she’s trying, and this is fucking hard for her, so I shove down that asshole part of me that wants to push, and I grip her hand. “I love you, angel.”

  I can’t see her through the curtain of hair covering her face, but I can hear the light sniffles she’s trying to breathe in. Using the tips of my fingers, I lift her head so that I can stare into her cocoa-colored eyes. “Why are you crying, my love?”

  It takes her a moment to meet my gaze, but when she does, my heart breaks at the moisture swelling over her eyes. “I’m trying, and it just… I just…” She sighs, unable to finish her statement.

  Today has been a rough fucking day for her, and I want to do anything I can to make it better.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing her by the waist to get her off the counter.

  “What are we doing?” she asks as I lead her into the living room. I don’t answer her question right away, leaving her pondering as I grab Shadow’s leash from our bedroom.