Old Flame (Judgement #3)

Prologue

Rome

Eighteen Years Ago

My fingers dug into my scalp as I sat, holding my head in both hands. The burn in my chest felt as if it was reaching a point that was unbearable. She needed me, and I had to get back in that room. But I required a moment to get myself under control. I hadn’t been sure if I was going to put the hard chair I’d been sleeping in all night through the wall or burst into tears and bury my face into the mattress beside her.

This wasn’t fair. Her life hadn’t been fair.

Rage, hate, helplessness, all spiraling together, were a dangerous combination. It took your breath away. I craved an outlet, but had none. Not here. Not within these fucking walls.

Until the day I died, there would never be a smell that I abhorred more than that of a hospital. It was here where I’d been told about her cancer. Here where she’d barely survived the last surgery. And I knew it was going to be here where she closed her eyes for the last time.

“Rome.” The soft voice said my name, and with it came relief.

My chest eased, although the pain remained, and the anger released its talons. I jerked my head up and stared into the face of my very own fucking angel. The agony reflected in her cornflower-blue eyes matched my own.

I stood up, towering over her five-foot-five frame, and pulled her against my chest. Able to take my first deep breath, I sucked in air as her arms wrapped around me. Bending down, I buried my nose in her hair. If there were a balm for the soul, then Salem Gray was mine.

“You got my message.” My voice was hoarse with the lack of sleep and emotion clogging my throat.

She clung to my shirt and nodded. “I was at the studio. I’d left my phone charging and put it on Silent since it was so late. I didn’t see it until two hours later. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

I ran a hand through her long, silky black hair, keeping her head against my chest. With her like this, I felt strong enough. She gave me strength as much as she did solace. I didn’t know how the hell I’d survived the past year without holding her every day.

My eyes closed as her warmth seeped into me, pushing out the cold that had been buried deep within my chest.

She’d last been in my arms two weeks ago, and every time she left, it was getting harder to watch her drive away. Keeping her with me, beside me, beneath me…

My hands tightened instantly as the memory of her throwing her head back, crying out my name, sent a bolt of need straight to my dick. God, even now, here, facing my fucking worst nightmare, Salem could make me hard. She’d been doing it so easily since she had been too young for me to be noticing. But so fucking beautiful for me to miss.

Her sniffle was the reminder I needed that she wasn’t here for me to sink my cock into.

“Is she…is she awake, alert?” Salem’s voice was thick with a sorrow that mirrored my own.

Pulling myself together, I lifted my head and nodded. “Yeah. She’ll want to see you.”

Salem’s eyes were wet with tears. Her long black eyelashes were spiky as she wiped at her face and took in a deep, unsteady breath. Stepping back from me, she gave me a smile so fucking heartbreaking that I fought the need to reach up and rub my chest.

“I don’t want her to see me like this.” She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. More tears continued to fall, and she worked diligently to catch them. “I can already hear her telling me, Don’t you start crying over what is meant to be, Salem. Just keep walking the path and find the beauty in the road ahead .”

The first smile in what felt like weeks tugged at the corners of my mouth. “That sounds just like Momma,” I agreed. “You even got her Alabama twang down.”

Salem pressed her full pink lips together. “Whew,” she said, blinking several times and straightening her shoulders. “I’m good. I can do this.”

Momma wasn’t going to be fooled. Salem’s red-rimmed eyes hinted at the crying she must have been doing on her drive down here from Savannah.

Since Salem had left back in August for her freshman year in college, I’d found that I hated the state of Georgia. It had taken her from me. Mom’s illness had brought Salem home often, and taking care of Momma had kept me preoccupied for the most part. But there were those days when I literally ached to get on my Harley and go to her.

I cupped her face with my hand, which appeared large and tanned against her porcelain skin. “Just let me look at you for a minute.” My voice was raspy and thick.

The softness in her expression as she gazed up at me always seemed to fix the shit in my chest. It had been that way since the first day I had walked into Momma’s house to fix her broken dishwasher, only to find Salem sitting at the kitchen table with school books spread out. She’d lifted her head, and those eyes had met mine. I could still remember feeling like someone had sucked all the oxygen from my lungs.

She had been a month away from turning sixteen, and I was nineteen. I didn’t live at home anymore and had gotten an apartment with a friend of mine. I’d decided college wasn’t for me, and I’d gone to trade school instead and gotten certified in motorcycle repair with a specialization in Harley-Davidsons. I had just started working at a place halfway between McIntosh, where Mom lived, and Ocala when Salem came to live with her.

Everything in my life changed that day. The plan I had set for my future shifted, and she was the only path I wanted. The only one I could see.

When Mom sent me pictures of Salem with some fucker, all dressed up for prom, I threw the wrench in my hand through the Sheetrock. Following that, I got drunk, broke things off with the girl I’d been fucking, and decided I was moving back to McIntosh. Giving Salem time to grow up, graduate—hell, become legal—was no longer in the cards. I had to go protect what was mine. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

And I did. Then she left me one year later. She graduated, got a scholarship in art, and went off to pursue her dream. Momma was so fucking proud. She was getting to do what Momma had always wanted to do herself. But instead of getting to create art for a living, Momma had had to settle for teaching it to high school kids. Which was how she’d found Salem. How she’d saved Salem from an abusive home and brought her into hers. Salem had become ours.

Bending my head, I pressed a kiss to her lips, wishing I could pull her against me and taste the candy sweetness of her mouth. But now wasn’t the time. I’d been gone too long. Mom needed us.

“Let’s go,” I said, then reached down to thread my fingers through hers before leading her down the hallway that would haunt my dreams.

Salem’s tiny hand squeezed mine, and although simple, it gave me strength. She’d be there with me through it all. When my world was yanked out from under me and Momma was…gone, I’d have Salem to help me find a way to make it without her.

When I had been three years old, the man who had helped create me left Mom for his younger secretary. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted to have a family with her. Although I knew Mom had left the door open for communication, he never contacted me, reached out, or tried to have a relationship with me.

It was just me and her.

Every football and baseball game, she’d been there. Cheering me on. When I was sick, it was Mom who took care of me. When I’d decided college wasn’t for me and I chose not to take the baseball scholarship to the University of Florida but instead became a motorcycle mechanic, she’d stood by me.

She wanted me to live the life I chose. Not one she chose for me.

The only thing in my life that I’d wanted that she didn’t approve of was Salem.

Mom loved her like her own daughter and had worked hard to get Salem a scholarship so she could do something with her gift. That was what she called Salem’s art—a gift. She swore she’d never seen someone so young who could create such intense emotion with the stroke of her brush.

“She’s young, Rome. And her soul has been damaged. It’s one of the reasons her art is so deep, so moving. And you, my beautiful boy, want different things. You see life in another light. One she doesn’t fit into. There is only heartbreak in your future if you continue this. Let her go now before it’s too late. Before you love her.”

That had been the month before Salem left for college. I’d wanted to laugh. Before I love her? I’d been in love with her since day one. That ship had sailed before I took my next breath. I’d never had a chance to not fall in love with her.

Stopping outside the door that led into Mom’s room, I prepared myself for the frail woman who was lying inside on that bed. She looked nothing like the vibrant, smiling beauty she had once been. Cancer had taken its toll on her body.

Salem pressed a kiss to my biceps since her head barely reached my shoulder, and I pushed the door open, then stood back for her to go inside first. Mom’s eyes were closed, and if it wasn’t for the heart monitor, I’d think she’d passed on. So pale and still. So fucking small.

Salem let go of my hand and went to her side. The sway of her long black hair brushing against her back, hitting just above her narrow waist, gave me something to focus on besides my mother dying in the bed.

When Salem’s hand touched Mom’s, her eyes opened, and she smiled.

“Aren’t you a sight?” Mom said in a weak voice. “Just get lovelier every day.”

Salem sat down in the chair I’d been in all night, holding Mom’s hand. “Vanna Rey, flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, bringing a laugh from Mom’s dry lips.

“I’m glad you came,” she told Salem, her eyes saying things I didn’t want to hear. That I couldn’t accept. Not yet.

“Where else would I be?” Salem asked, the emotion heavy in her voice, although she was trying to keep it light.

“Oh,” Mom said, “setting the art world on its ear with your gift perhaps.”

Salem let out a chuckle. “I’m just trying to get through Professor Gildon’s Digital Communication’s class. You know I am terrible with technology.”

Mom’s smile widened. “Born in the wrong century.” She told her that often.

Salem sighed. “You just think that because I can sing more ’80s rock songs than you can.”

More laughter from Momma.

Seeing her eyes lighten with amusement lessened the tightness in my chest. Salem was good for her. Hell, she was good for me. She was the fucking sunshine, and when she walked into your world, she brightened up areas you hadn’t even known were dark.

“I’m going, Salem.” Mom’s words took on a serious tone that I didn’t want to hear. “And I want you to promise me one thing.”

Salem didn’t speak; she just nodded. I knew she was fighting back tears.

Mom picked Salem’s hand up and placed it between both of hers. “Share your gift. Live the life it can bring you. Live your dream. Chase it. You deserve it. My body might have failed me, but just because it’s leaving doesn’t mean I am. I’ve got you two to watch as you find your way in this world. I’ll be there, even though you can’t see me cheering you on. So, give me something to cheer for.”

Salem’s shoulders shook. She nodded as a sob escaped, and her free hand flew up to her mouth to muffle it.

“It’s okay to cry, honey. It’s our way of releasing the sadness and pain so that we can find our peace again.”

Salem pressed her forehead to Mom’s hands that held hers, and I watched as her body shook and the tears fell. Momma raised her eyes to me. Unable to watch Salem any longer, her pain an echo of my own, I went to stand behind her and placed my hand on her back. My touch seemed to slowly calm her, and we were all silent while she regained composure.

Finally, she lifted her head and wiped her tear-streaked face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I need to go get a tissue.”

Momma nodded, and Salem stood up to leave the room. I watched her go, torn between wanting to follow her to make sure she was okay, to comfort her and hold her, and staying, for fear of leaving Mom. What if I walked out again and she left this world before I could return?

“Come here,” Mom said, holding her hand out to me.

The lump in my throat was the size of a basketball. Panic and fear came roaring to the front of all the different emotions battling inside me. I felt like a little boy again. Staring down at my mother, terrified every breath she took could be her last.

Sinking down into the chair that Salem had just left, I grabbed her hand and held it in both of mine, the same way she had held Salem’s. It was cold and thin.

“If you love her, you will let her go,” Mom said firmly. “She adores you, and I know you love that girl. But, son, her life is on a different path—one you don’t want to follow—and she will leave all her dreams behind for you. She’ll change everything for you. She needs to be free to chase those dreams.”

The way my mom hadn’t gotten to do. My father had knocked her up, and I’d flipped her life upside down. She said she loved me and wouldn’t change a thing, but I knew I had held her back. My entrance into the world had ended all her plans.

“I don’t…” I said, swallowing hard. “I don’t think I can live without her, Momma.”

She smiled at me. “You are a strong, smart, independent man. And Salem is your first love. Those are the ones that prepare us for the future loves, the heartaches to come, and later on down the road, if we are lucky, we get the one who was meant for us. Some go forever without that. Some find their joy in their jobs and”—she turned her hand, palm up, inside mine and gave me a weak squeeze—“some find it in their children.”

I shook my head. “She’s not just my first love, Momma. She’s my…she owns my soul.”

The sadness in her eyes wasn’t what I wanted to see. It meant she was going to say more that I didn’t want to hear.

“You own your soul. It’s just taken with hers because she shines so bright. But if you don’t let her go, let her chase her dreams, use her gift, her light will dim until it’s extinguished. You don’t want to be the one to do that.”

My eyes stung with unshed tears. She was lying here, dying, leaving me to continue this life without her in it, and she was telling me that the one thing I lived for was something I couldn’t keep.

“The things you don’t know about her…life before, the things she lived through…she’s broken in ways that I’ve tried to help heal, but they marked her. She’ll always strive to make you happy. She’ll put you first. It’s the way she is wired. If she thinks you need her when I’m gone, she’ll come here. She will leave it all behind to be by your side.” Mom stopped and took in a wheezing breath as she struggled to continue.

“Momma,” I said, trying to stop her.

She didn’t need to be talking so much, and the shit she was saying was shattering me.

“No, let me finish,” she rasped. “Life isn’t fair, and it’s painful. And you, my beautiful boy, are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t regret a moment of it. Now, go live your life, Rome Cayson Bower. Find your dream. And let Salem go after hers. Set her free.”