Alone (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Prison

Prison.
She understands how I feel. How I’ve always felt about my life. It’s almost too good to be true.

I press my lips to hers, and a jolt of electricity shoots through my body when our mouths meet. A groan works its way out of me as I pull her closer, twisting my hands in the hem of her shirt and holding on for dear life. I want to erase all the barriers between us. To take her up to my room and throw her down and rip her clothes off.

In my room.

In Rick’s house.

That’s all it takes for my lungs to deflate. I pull away, gasping as my hands claw at my chest and I struggle to make my lungs work. I can’t focus on anything but the lack of air in my body.

“Roman?”

Her voice is so soft. Full of concern. I can’t speak. Every part of my chest is tight. Painful.

I squeeze my eyes shut and work at blocking out the memories. The beatings, the screaming, the pain. The loneliness.

Alone.

I can’t go back to being alone.

“Roman, are you okay?”

I nod, but I can’t make my eyes open and I still can’t breathe. I’m paralyzed. Trapped in a box of pain that Rick created.

I want to kill him.

A gentle hand touches my cheek. I wince and pull back like it’s a poisonous snake, not a loving caress. I don’t want her comfort. I don’t deserve her love. Isn’t that what Rick has been telling me for years? That nobody could love me?

A sudden understanding hits me. Jules’s father.

It takes a few seconds for my lungs to start to work again, and when they do, I open my eyes and find Jules staring at me. Her face contorted in pain. There are worry lines by her mouth.

She’s too young for worry lines.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to get out. It hurts to talk. Hurts my head, my throat, my heart.

She steps closer, touching my shoulder hesitantly. “What is it?”

I swallow and look away. At the house. “I can’t take you in there.”

She doesn’t respond, so I’m forced to look at her again. I don’t want to. I don’t want to associate her with this place of torture. But I have to know what she’s thinking.

Understanding swims in her eyes. “I don’t want to go in there.”

“I’ll be right back.” I try to smile, but when my lips move, the skin on my face threatens to crack.

She settles down onto a rock as I turn to leave.

I just need to get dressed and grab a few changes of clothes. Then we’ll figure out what to do. She wants to leave today, which is fine with me. But can I do that to her? Is it right to take her away before she’s had the chance to talk to her father?

It doesn’t seem fair.

I hurry inside, my heart pounding even though I know Rick isn’t here. Every sound makes my pulse quicken as I shoves things into a bag. Have to make it quick. Jules is waiting.

It takes me less than five minutes to throw some things in a bag, and then I’m hurrying back outside. To Jules.

She’s still on the rock. I have my bag and everything I could need from the house, but she and I need to talk. I have to do the right thing. Have to be a better person for her. She deserves that much.

I grab her hand and pull her to her feet. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Aren’t we leaving? I need to get a few things from my house.”

“Let’s go for a walk first,” I say, leading her toward the beach.

The wind blows, bringing with it the salty taste of ocean water. Above us the clouds are dark and ominous—a storm is on its way. Bad timing, but it isn’t going to stop me from getting the hell out of here.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Beginning of the End

Pain coats every inch of Roman as he leads me toward the beach. He has a bag slung over his shoulder, and the sight of it makes me ache with the need to get my own things together. I’m ready to go, but Roman wants to talk first. The mask of indifference is gone, and the playful smile has disappeared. For the first time, all the walls are down at once. Even though I don’t know why, it fills me with fear.

Am I seeing the real Roman for the first time? I thought I knew him. Thought I understood him. But the Roman in front of me is someone completely new.

He pauses five feet from where the surf breaks against the sand and turns to face me. “I don’t think we should leave yet.”

My heart sinks into a sea of despair. He doesn’t want me anymore?

“Why? What did I do?”

His eyes search mine, and a half-smile lights up his face. Now he looks like the Roman I know. “You didn’t do anything.”

He puts his hand on my cheek, and I lean into it. My heart surfaces from the pool it was drowning in, gasping for air before sprouting wings and flying off.

“It’s about your father. Jules, he does care about you. I think you should take the time to say a real goodbye to him.”

I don’t want my father to ruin this moment. He’s ruined so many other moments in my life. Dance recitals he missed and birthdays he forgot. Holidays where he didn’t even bother to call me. So many ruined moments.

“I’m done with him.” My voice is harder than I expect it to be. “You can’t understand, Roman. You weren’t there. That night I traveled seven miles across D.C. to find him even though I thought he was dead. He hadn’t called me. Hadn’t come to check on me. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, though, so I risked it.” I take a deep breath. “He was there in his apartment. Totally fine. All he could say in his defense was that he assumed my mom was with me. The truth is, I
can’t
believe that he cares about me. Not after what happened.”

“I understand.” Roman nods as he runs his hand down the side of my cheek. “Just promise that you’ll leave him a note.”

A gust of wind whips his hair into his face, and I look up. The sky above us is dark. Ominous. If we’re going to get out of here, we need to do it soon or we’re going to get caught in a storm.

“I promise,” I say. “When do we leave?”

Roman pulls me against him. “How soon can you pack?”

Everything I want to take with me is packed, but I still have to write a note to my dad. What do I say to him? I can make it sweet and flowery, a goodbye from a loving daughter. A lie. Or I can put my real feelings into it. Tell him how much he’s hurt me. How all I ever wanted was just a little bit of attention. Just a little bit of love.

Will it hurt him? Do I want it to?

“A storm’s coming. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll probably get stuck in it.”

I nod, but I can’t look up. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Roman says. “I know what he did was awful, but I also know that he loves you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

I still don’t believe it. “He told you that?” I ask, looking up at Roman.

His eyes hold mine as he nods.

My father lied. It’s the only possible explanation.

Not wanting to waste any more time on him, I turn back to the paper.

Dad-

I know you won’t understand, but I love Roman and

I want to be with him. I want to be with someone who

loves me.

-Jules

I stop with my pen poised over the paper.
I’m sure you’ll be relieved
is what I want to add. Better not, though.

I turn to find Roman frowning down at the paper. Why is he suddenly on my father’s side, anyway? Maybe he’s just worried that I’ll have regrets. I won’t, but everyone is entitled to his opinion.

I set the note on my bed and give Roman a big smile. “Let’s go.”

We step outside to a sky even more overtaken by dark clouds.

“We only have to make it to the house tonight,” Roman says, climbing on his bike. “Tomorrow we’ll take my stash into town so we can trade for the things we need. We can spend the night there and then head out in the morning if the storm’s passed.”

I climb onto the bike and wrap my arms around Roman. Riding in the rain doesn’t sound appealing, but neither does waiting. Now is the right time. I can feel it deep inside me. This is the right thing and Roman is the right person. A new beginning.

Roman races through the settlement as the clouds above us darken, becoming more and more threatening with each passing second. When we slow at the gate, the uncertainty of our situation hits me for the first time. Will they even let us leave? What if the Regulator gave them instructions not to let us out?

The wind howls around us, blowing the trees until their branches slam together. At the gate, the guards rush toward the gate, and I squeeze Roman tighter. Thankfully, the wait is short, and it takes less than a minute for the gate to swing open.

Roman revs the engine, and then we shoot forward, flying through the gate and leaving the settlement of Coastal Manor behind. This time when I tighten my arms around Roman’s waist, it’s out of excitement, not fear.

We’re on our way.

What feels like seconds later, the sky above us opens up. Water falls on us in buckets, and in the blink of an eye, my clothes are soaked and my hair has matted itself to my face. I can’t see a thing. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my face against Roman’s back, praying that he will somehow be able to see where we’re going through the thick blanket of rain pouring down on us.

By the time the motorcycle slows, I’m shivering. My hands clutch Roman as he pulls to a stop, but it only takes me a second to scramble off. The house is right in front of us, barely visible through the thick sheet of rain falling from the dark sky. I slosh through the puddles while behind me Roman struggles with his bike. The door creaks when I shove it open, but the sound is barely audible over the pounding of the rain on the roof. It echoes through the empty house while I shiver in the entryway, waiting for Roman. A puddle has collected under my feet, and my body has become one giant goose bump.

Roman pushes his motorcycle through the door and parks it in the hall before hurrying to my side. “You okay?”

My teeth chatter, and I cross my arms over my chest as I nod. Roman rubs my arms. If I could see myself, I wouldn’t be surprised if my skin was blue.

“We need to get out of these wet clothes,” he says. “I have a few sleeping bags stashed in the crawlspace. I’ll be right back.”

He runs off and I want to follow him, but I can’t get the two blocks of ice that are attached to my legs to cooperate.

Roman is only gone for a minute at the most, and when he reappears he has a sleeping bag tucked under his arm and a hatchet in his hand. “Come in here. I’ll get a fire started.”

A fire.

At the moment, it’s the most luxurious thing I can think of.

He spreads the sleeping bag out on the floor before heading over to a built-in bookshelf. I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room with my arms crossed over my chest, shivering while he hacks away at the shelves.

Roman glances my way as he tosses wood toward the fireplace. “Get out of those clothes.” He tilts his head toward the sleeping bag before turning back to the shelf.

I don’t even hesitate. This is no time to be modest.

My wet clothes come off so fast you’d think I was doing it for money. I toss them in a pile before slipping into the warmth of the sleeping bag. It’s soft and lined with fleece, and right away my limbs begin to thaw.

Roman has a fire started in no time—it’s actually a pretty impressive process to watch. Manly. Sexy.

Then he pulls his wet shirt over his head.

There’s only one sleeping bag.

A jolt goes through me when Roman undoes his pants. He’s stripping, and I’m practically naked.

He and I will be in here together…

My body comes alive, and my heart pounds a million miles a minute. And those butterflies! Those stupid butterflies have swarmed. There must be a million of them now, beating their wings as they rip my insides apart.

Roman doesn’t turn toward me until he’s down to his boxers, and when he does, his expression is serious. So beautifully, amazingly serious. “Is this okay?”

He smiles when I nod.

It is
so
much more than okay.

I scoot over, giving Roman room to crawl in next to me. His body presses against mine, hot and firm. My hands snake their way up his stomach to his chest as I gaze into his eyes. The house is dark, and his brown eyes shimmer down on me. They penetrate mine, diving into my soul and claiming me as his.

He smells like the outdoors, and I breathe him in like he’s my very own cigarette. As if the smell of him will soothe me in a way that nothing else ever has.

My hands stay on his chest, but his move. His fingers slide across my thigh and over my hip, down the curve of my waist and back up. They brush their way over my body to my neck and chin, leaving a trail of fire behind that burns like lava.

I close my eyes as his hand strokes my cheek. His lips forge a trail along my jaw, and I sigh when every fiber in my body relaxes. Roman’s warm breath tickles my skin as his lips tease me. They kiss every inch of my face except my lips, and the feel of them on my skin is warm and soft and sensual.

The yearning builds until it threatens to crush us both. It’s so powerful that by the time his lips finally touch mine, deep and insistent, I’m certain that I’m going to explode. And I nearly do.

Then every inch of me is covered in Roman. I’m on fire. Burning alive. Only it doesn’t hurt. It’s magical and so unreal that I can’t believe it’s actually happening. Wasn’t I shivering just a few minutes ago? How did I catch on fire?

Roman’s hands move up my back and slip the strap of my bra aside so his lips can caress my shoulder. Then his fingers slide down to my thigh, and my skin prickles and sizzles as the need inside me builds. He is everywhere but where I want him to be. But I can’t say the words, so I just kiss him back and pray that he never stops.

He pulls me closer to him like he’s afraid I’ll cease to exist. My hands run up his back, and I swear he trembles under my touch. His shoulders are like marble under my fingers. Hard and unbreakable—like they can carry the weight of the world.

My skin is sticky with sweat when Roman finally pulls back. He’s gasping for breath, almost like he’d just run a marathon, and I am too. The air in the room is thick and humid. And charged.

He brushes a few strands of moist hair off my forehead as he smiles down at me, and all I can think about is how soft his lips are. How good they taste. How I could feast on them forever.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“I’ve never been more okay in my life.”

His mouth twitches, and I shiver.

“Are you still cold?”

I shake my head. How can I tell him that there’s a good chance I will burst into flames at any moment? If I didn’t know better, I’d think the fire had leapt from the fireplace and scorched our sleeping bag.