Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) by Kimberly Stedronsky Read Free Book Online Page B

door that read Erie Property Management. Obviously, West had had the forethought to maintain his property for an extended period of time…
    Or forever.
    “Left up here.”
    He pulled off the road and turned, crawling up the driveway. “Someone’s taking care of the place?”
    “I think it’s a property management company.”
    “Then, he knew he’d be gone for a while.” Logan put the car into park, turning to look at me in the darkness. “ He knew you’d be left here… alone.”
    “Or he thought we’d be together,” I snapped, opening the car door and stepping into a half an inch of new snow. “Knock it off.”
    Walking to the front door, I easily slipped the key into the lock and turned. Logan moved in front of me. “Let me go in first. Just in case.”
    “I can defend myself,” I retorted. “Just because your arms are huge doesn’t mean you know how to fight.”
    “They are getting pretty big, aren’t they?” He flexed obnoxiously, winking. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.
    “Just move.”
    A flip of the switch by the front door told me the electric bill was being settled each month. The temperature was cool but not cold. “Utilities are on . He planned that, too, I guess?” He looked at me expectantly. I shrugged.
    “ I don’t know anything about his finances.” That was a lie; I knew he had a lot of money- enough to bring a surgeon to his house to correct my eyesight, purchase forged visas, secure plane tickets to Russia… and order a large-scale bombing on a historical fountain.
    “Well, I think we should “borrow” enough to make us comfortable. And maybe even to splurge for some new pants for you.”
    I covered the waist of my jeans indignantly. “Hey.”
    He crossed the entryway to me, closing the gap between us. “You’re showing, Cam. You need to be comfortable.”
    Tilting my face to look up at him, I held my breath. “I’m never comfortable. I’m always sad… or scared. Both, really.”
    “I can change that.”
    “I can’t be what you want me to be anymore, Logan. He will always be between us.”
    My quiet words, coupled with my slightly-protruding abdomen separating us, darkened his eyes. “I guess you’re right.”
    He walked through kitchen, turning on lights as he went. I followed, taking inventory of the area. Clean, neat, unused. I realized I had been holding out hope that West was here, just hiding out this whole time in his own home. Irrational. Crazy.
    “Desk… j ackpot.” Logan moved to a small alcove that housed an oak desk and PC. He pulled a drawer open. “Pens…envelopes…stapler…,”
    “Don’t just rifle though this stuff,” I admonished, brushing his hands out of the way. “It’s not right.”
    “Wait,” he nudged me aside, curling his fingers under the desktop from inside the drawer. “There’s something under here. My parents have a desk like this.”
    “Sneaky drawer?”
    “Yes,” I heard a click, and the latch dropped to reveal a shelf. A fat, yellow envelope was wedged inside, preventing the shelf from lowering all the way. He pulled on the envelope, jamming it back and forth until it was finally free from the drawer.
    There was no mistaking West’s capitalized handwriting. I traced the letters with my fingertip, ignoring Logan’s scowl as I read the word.
    ROAM.
    “Three checkbooks… with my name on the checks. A debit card and a credit card- in my name. Passports. Keys? A memory card…,”
    “You’d think he could have mentioned this. You know, like, ‘Hey, one last thing before you go… I totally set you up financially, so check my desk.’ All those damn weekends working at Strike .”
    “I think this was a back-up plan. He really meant for us to be together,” I flipped through the checkbooks. “I need to see what’s on this memory card.” Tucking my hair behind my ears, I pressed the power button on the desktop Dell. The flat-screen monitor occupied most of the desk surface. “Do you see a mouse or keyboard