Alone (19 page)

My blood boils as my body shakes, and I suddenly feel like the world is closing in on me. I’m not just angry about Roman anymore, this is about everything in my life. Everything that happened before the virus and since, and most of all, I’m angry that I can still let my father’s indifference hurt me like this.

“You’ve never been there for me!” I shout so loud that my throat aches and my windpipe threatens to close. “You were gone through my entire childhood. You’d still be gone if
I
hadn’t come to find you!”

My father looks away, and I can actually see him withdrawing, pulling into himself.
Emotionally unavailable
, that’s what my mom always said. She was right.

“Forget it,” I mutter.

I run my hand across my face to wipe away the tears. It was stupid to waste them on him. Again.

“Jules…” His voice cracks but he still doesn’t look at me, and I have a sinking suspicion that he never will.

“Just drop the charges. Roman isn’t a bad guy, not like you think.” I pause, weighing my options. What can I say without betraying Roman? Would hinting at the abuse be wrong? I’m not sure, but don’t feel like I can hide it anymore. Not completely. “You’ve worked with the Regulator, so you have to know he’s not as wonderful as he seems.”

My father nods, and I relax a little. He still can’t look at me, but at least he’s listening.

He clears his throat. “I get it. I’ll drop the charges.”

“Thanks,” I say even though the words burn my lips on the way out. With everything he’s done, he doesn’t deserve my thanks. He doesn’t deserve anything from me.

He nods before turning away. “I’ll get him released.”

My stomach knots, and my legs give out. Thankfully, there’s a chair right behind me. It cushions my fall. The tears come next. I put my face in my hands as I inhale, working to control myself. I have to get away from him. From here.

At least one good thing has come from all this. Now I can leave and not feel the least bit guilty. My father won’t miss me. He’ll probably even be relieved.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Visited

I’m on my bunk with my eyes closed when the door to my
cell
opens. I don’t bother looking. It’s either Rick or someone bringing me clothes. There has to be at least one person in this place who has an ounce of pity.

The door shuts and feet shuffle across the floor, but I stay where I am. When someone clears their throat, I finally crack one eye. Heat floods me when my eyes meet Jon Carmichael’s, but I work to keep my emotions hidden. Why the hell this asshole is here to see me, I don’t know, but the last thing I want is for him to think he can intimidate me.

“Can I help you?” I don’t even bother opening the other eye.

“Sit up.” His voice is too loud for the tiny room. It startles him, makes him jump, and I have to fight back the urge to laugh. He’s scared of his own voice.

I drag myself up until I’m leaning against the wall with my legs propped up on the bed and crossed at the ankle. The same condescending, laid-back smile that I reserve for Rick gets shot his way, only amplified. When he came to see me the first time, I’d felt a little bit of respect for Jules’s dad, but all that’s gone now. He used his position to accuse me of rape, knowing what it could mean for me. Fuck him. I’m tired of people trying to exert their power over me. I’ve put up with it for too long with Rick, and I won’t take it from anyone else. Not anymore.

He bites down on his lower lip, and I squirm just a little. For the first time, I can see a little bit of Jules in him.

“I’ve come to release you.”

I tilt my head to the side, working to regain some of the composure I lost when he started biting his lip. “Is that right? Couldn’t get the lie to stick?”

He clears his throat and focuses on his feet. “I shouldn’t have done that. Finding you in bed with my daughter clouded my judgment.” He lifts his head so he can narrow his eyes on me. “Maybe you’ll understand where I’m coming from one day.”

I want to laugh, but the truth is, I think he might be right. Only, his attitude doesn’t exactly mesh with Jules’ opinion of him. She’s so sure he doesn’t care. If that’s true, why the hell would he have done something so extreme?

We stare at one another for a few seconds in silence. It isn’t comfortable, not with each of us trying to feel the other out, but I want to give him the chance say whatever he came here to say. I am, after all, going to take his daughter away, so it only seems fair. Not that he knows that. Still, it will give me the chance to walk away with a clear conscience. To know that I gave him the opportunity to call me a dick if that’s what he wants to do.

But he doesn’t. He just steps away from the door and motions toward it. “You’re free to go.”

I flick my hair out of my face as I get to my feet, studying him. “Let me ask you a question.”

He nods.

“Jules thinks you don’t care about her. I think differently. I know what it’s like to have a father who doesn’t care, and you don’t seem that way to me.”

He looks down at the floor again. “Is there a question in all that?”

“Yeah. Do you care?”

His head snaps up, and his eyes narrow on me. They’re moist, and his mouth trembles just a bit. “I didn’t have the best childhood. Love wasn’t something I was ever shown, not until I met Juliana’s mother. I didn’t know how to do it.” He swallows and looks away. “I thought I would mess it all up.”

Now I understand.

I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. He won’t look at me, and I get the feeling he’s waiting for me to leave. That he needs some time alone. I have the urge to tell him I understand, that I know what it feels like to just want someone to show you some love, but I doubt he’d want to hear it. Not from me, anyway.

So I walk to the door. Just before I step through the door, I say, “You should tell her that.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Free

My father promised he’d let Roman go, but it’s taking too long.

I pace the lobby where he told me to wait, tortured by the tick of the wall clock and Jean’s judgmental gaze. She frowns every time I venture a look her way, and it makes me so nervous that I find it impossible to sit still.

When Roman finally walks out, I almost faint.

Trembles shake my body and like a toddler, I start crying. My chest tightens and so does my throat, making it impossible to say a thing as I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his chest.

“Shhh,” he whispers as he rubs my back. “It’s okay.”

His warm lips brush against my temple, and just like that all my nervous energy melts away. It seeps out of my pores and onto the floor and is replaced by utter relaxation.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He pulls back so he can look down at me, a little smirk on his face. “What did you think was going to happen? Did you really think they’d be able to send me off to D.C. with no proof?”

I wipe the tears from my cheeks when it hits me that everyone in the place is watching us. Roman is practically naked, and they know we spent the night together—they even think we had sex. The reality of the situation makes my cheeks burn.

Roman’s eyes narrow on my face, and he frowns. “You okay?”

“I never really intended for all of this to be so public. Everyone knows our business. Or they think they do, anyway.”

Roman puts his arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the door. He’s so confident and free, completely unconcerned with the eyes that follow us across the room. Unworried that he’s nearly naked.

“They don’t know a damn thing,” he whispers. “They only think they do.”

I press myself closer to him.

He’s right. They can make up their own stories about what happened, about Roman corrupting me or taking advantage of me. But none of that matters because it isn’t the truth.

We step outside, and another truth forces me to stop in my tracks. “We don’t have a way to get home and you’re barefoot.”

I cover my mouth when a laugh shakes my body. Why I find the situation so funny I can’t say for sure, but no matter how hard I press my palm against my lips, I can’t keep it inside.

“You want to hear something even worse?” Roman’s eyes twinkle. “I left all my cigarettes in your room.”

I somehow manage to swallow down the rest of my tears as I raise myself up on the tips of my toes and press my lips against his.

“I’d tell you two to get a room, but I heard you already have one,” Clay says, coming out of the building behind us.

Even though heat spreads through me, I shake it off. It’s time to embrace my choices and be more like Roman. I have nothing to be ashamed of. The opposite, really. For the first time since my mom died I’m happy, and I’m not going to let women like Jean make me feel bad about it. No matter what.

“You come out here so you can see what a real man looks like?” Roman asks Clay.

The other boy makes a sweeping gesture down his body. “Why would I do that when I can just look in the mirror?”

Roman smirks, and I manage a smile despite the knots in my stomach.

“I came to see if you needed a ride home,” Clay says, his tone different. Less playful.

“Thanks, man. I thought we might have to hitchhike.”

Clay snorts as he heads toward the parking lot. “You try hitchhiking like that and people are going to think you’re a male prostitute.”

Roman laughs and throws his arm over my shoulder, taking me with him as he follows Clay. The other boy leads us across the parking lot to an old, blue Civic. It’s pretty banged up, but at this point I’d be willing to ride a horse home if it meant putting all this nonsense behind us.

Roman opens the back door for me, and I slide in while he climbs into the passenger seat. The guys talk as we drive through town, and I use the opportunity to think. It’s time to decide what my next step is. I want to leave, and soon. After the conversation with my dad—or lack of—I can’t wait to get out of here. But when?

Roman looks back, shooting me a questioning look, but I shake my head. We have time to talk about it.

Clay pulls into Roman’s driveway first, and when he stops, Roman climbs out. “Thanks for the ride, man.”

“Glad to help.” Clay keeps his hands on the wheel. “Gonna see you again?”

Roman shuts the car door without answering and then moves to open mine.

“Maybe one day, man.”

In the front seat, Clay nods like he gets it. Probably does. Even though most of the people in this settlement have turned a blind eye to what the Regulator is really like, Roman’s friends can’t be totally ignorant. Not living in such close quarters like they have been these past two years.

Roman’s eyes focus on me. “I need to get some clothes.”

“Okay.”

My stomach knots when I climb out. This is different from the butterflies. More painful. I’ve never been inside his house, and the thought makes me nauseated. Seeing where he and his father live, where there has been so much pain and abuse. If I go in there, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my stomach from emptying itself all over the floor.

We stand in the driveway as Clay drives away, giving us a little wave. Roman pulls me against him and I lay my face on his chest, squeezing my eyes closed. I’m shivering, and even though the sky is overcast and the air has a slight chill to it, the tremors aren’t from the weather.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Take me away. I don’t want to be here anymore. Not with your dad and his anger or my father and his indifference. I just want to go away and start over.”

Roman pulls back and lifts my chin so he can look me in the eye. “When?”

“Now. Today. I don’t want to live in this prison anymore.”