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If he hadn’t arrived in time…
I push that thought away, only for it to be replaced by Dominic’s brutal assault and that sinister sentence. Whoever he is, Sam is still out there, and he still wants me dead.
Roman was animalistic when he beat Dominic to the brink of death. The attack loops through my mind, building in intensity with each viewing. Dominic immobilized me, choked me, tried to rape me. He made me feel so terrified and helpless I thought my heart would burst.
Could Jim really be connected to Sam? Jim was a violent, abusive prick, but I left before his rages became deadly. I hate him with every fiber of my being, but he never made me fear so much for my survival.
Roman’s explanation doesn’t make sense.
“Are you awake, baby?” The familiar deep voice is a balm on my frazzled nerves.
“Roman?” I whisper.
“You’re safe with me.”
“Where’s Dominic?”
“Being questioned by Cesare.”
His psycho dungeon master brother? “Good.”
“Are you ready for some cooling gel?” he asks.
“Do you have something for my head?”
“I brought the entire medicine cabinet. Anything you want.” He helps me sit up and rests my back against the headboard.
Roman slides out of bed and takes a moment to stretch. Dappled sunlight streams through the window and caresses his back, accentuating the way his muscles ripple as he walks across the room. He pauses at a dresser covered with various medications and chooses a bottle and a tube. Then he walks to an ice bucket and retrieves a pack.
I stare down at my lap and sigh. This isn’t the first time I’ve been choked. Jim used to grab me by the neck whenever he was angry and cut off my air. It was terrifying, but he always threw me down and allowed me to breathe when he was satisfied. Dominic had no intention of letting me live.
Shit. Not only is my mind replaying nearly getting strangled, but it keeps dredging up my worthless ex.
A shudder runs down my back. I thought I was a survivor. Is this the attack that finally breaks my spirit?
“Tylenol?” Roman’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Please.”
He hands me two pills and a glass of water. As I swallow them, he lifts my chin and rubs a menthol gel over my neck. The cool sensation sinks into my skin, soothing the burn on the outside. He pushes my head down, applies a thick layer around the back, which helps to dull the pain.
“Thanks,” I rasp.
He rubs a gentle circle on my back. “Sofia made honey and marshmallow tea for your throat. Do you want to try it?”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. I bow my head and swallow through the agony. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Emberly,” he says. “Look at me.”
I lift my head and meet his stern features and eyes so dark they penetrate my soul. What does Roman see? A perpetual victim or a damsel in distress? Will he end up like Mom and see a burden too heavy to shelter?
“When I brought you here, I wanted you to be safe from that bastard cop. I made the mistake of trusting my men to either protect you or stay out of your way, and for that, I’m sorry.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow.
“I swear to god, Dominic will not go unpunished. He will regret ever causing you pain.”
His dark eyes shine with a sincerity that makes my heart ache. Roman means every single word. My chest tightens with the thought that no man apart from him has ever rushed to my defense.
