Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
It’s like he’s built from steel. Carved from stone. Even now, it’s almost hard to believe that he’s real.
Warm water rains down on us as I wash his shoulders and chest. Somehow, this moment is even more intimate than when he was inside me. Right now, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just Roman and me and whatever fantasy I dream up next.
“Roman,” I ask, my voice soft. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“How did you become…this?” I ask slowly.
My question hangs in the air. For a moment, I’m worried I’ve offended him. But just before things become uncomfortable, he responds.
“Mom had bad taste in men. They’d hurt her, and I was forced to protect her.” I feel it. His trauma. Like a weight pressing down on me. “Mom died from an overdose, and I ended up in foster care. The first man I killed was the man who got her hooked.”
His face stays stoic, but the pain in his voice is unmistakable.
“I couldn’t save her. I guess that’s when the world went dark. When I went numb to everything.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t apologize.” He cradles my chin in his hand. “You were right to ask. After all, you want to know everything about the man you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”
His words rock me down to my core. I swear my brain stops functioning for a few seconds at least as I just stare up at him, gawking.
Did he really just say that?
His face stays stoic. He doesn’t flinch.
Yeah. He did.
I’m shocked, but at the same time, I’m not. It’s like he’s just putting into words what we both already know. That this is my man. Picturing my future without him is impossible at this point. Who else could understand me like he does? Treat me like he does? Give me all the things I need, and more?
Nobody.
I lean forward, pressing my cheek against his chest. Feeling his mighty breath go in and out is so soothing I could almost fall asleep right here.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t save her, Roman,” I whisper. “But you saved me.”
The shot from outside rings out a millisecond before the bullet hits.
The glass of the shower window shatters, spraying all over us. Roman covers me with his body and lifts me into his arms.
“Keep your head down!” he hisses. He moves fast. There’s no hesitation as he carries me into the bedroom and sets me down on the far side of the bed and pulls the blanket over me.
Another bullet impacts the wall above us.
“What’s happening?” I scream, panicked.
Roman reaches under the mattress and comes out with a pistol. He cocks it and aims it at the door, his eyes focused.
“They tracked us somehow.”
“How!”
My heart is going to explode. Gunfire? Someone actually trying to kill me? I look down. Roman’s feet are bloody, shards of glass embedded in his soles. And all because of me.
I pluck out as many as I can, but a sound comes from the living room. The front door opening. In an instant, Roman is on his feet.
“Wait!” I hiss. But he doesn’t hear me. Or maybe he does, but he’s not listening. He’s in full-blown killer mode now. And it’s actually astonishing to see.
He moves like a well-oiled machine, keeping the gun close as he makes zero noise crossing the room. Back to the wall, he takes a breath and looks at me.
I’m shaking all over. Adrenaline rips through me. I’m wrapped in a blanket, completely naked underneath. But what does it matter? What could I even do here? My life is on the line, and the only one who can save me is Roman.
“Stay here,” he whispers.
And like that, he ducks out of the room and out the door. Doomsday scenarios play out in my mind like a movie on fast-forward. This is life or death, and Roman is out there where I can’t see him. Where anything could happen.
My heart skips a beat at the sound of the first shot.
Oh, God.
Two more follow, then another three.
Then something big and heavy hits the floor.
Part of me is screaming at me to cry out Roman! Are you okay? But my tongue just doesn’t work. My jaw doesn’t move. My entire body is a block of ice, frozen in place as I listen…listen…for any kind of clue as to what’s happening out there.
This is all Dad’s fault.
Anger at my father rises up in me like a storm. All I see is his face. His ‘charming’ smile that he’s used to fool so many people. I think of all the times he skipped town, missed a birthday, bailed on taking me to the movies, and then I think of the two million dollars that got us into this mess to begin with.