She curls against my side, her voice heavy. “That’s when Roman?—”
“No. I didn’t meet Roman until I was in my mid-twenties. Before that, I bounced around foster home to foster home until I aged out. No one wanted a scarred-up kid who killed his own siblings.” I shrug the shoulder she’s not resting against. “But that was fine. I found a new life in the streets. Learned to fight…learned how to be smart. When Roman offered me a chance to join his family…to betreatedlike family…I took it, and I never looked back or regretted it.”
Nika chews her lip, but her hand doesn’t stop trailing over my chest.
“That’s who I am, Nika.” I meet her eyes and reveal my absolute certainty that I’m responsible for their deaths, no matter what logic says. “I’m the man who let his baby brother and sister die. If I’d been able to pry Luka’s toy out of his death grip, I’d still have it to this day. So I know why Roman took the necklace and why he gave it up so easily when you asked. Because he needed an anchor. You’re his daughter, and he’d do anything to ease your pain. Even if it hurts him more.”
She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t say anything about Roman or try to comfort me with empty platitudes about how it wasn’t my fault. How I was just a child. How I did the best I could.
She’s a lot like her dad that way, not that I’d ever tell her that. She’d kick my ass for that comparison.
I thread our fingers together and lift our hands up to cover my heart. I don’t know why it’s not pounding anymore. I’m thankful, though, because that means I can stay here, in this bed, with her.
And I’m not ready to leave.
Chapter 29
Nika
Scalding hot water blasts my skin, steam rising in clouds that fog the glass. Closing my eyes, I turn my face up into the spray and let it drown out my thoughts.
If I stand here long enough, maybe I can burn away the confusion and angst left behind after revealing my truth to Max and hearing his. Learning how he grew up made me even more grateful to Dimitri for saving me.
Max is a broken child, just like I am. But at least I had a lifeline. He had nothing and no one until he was as old as I am now.
And then he met Roman.
The man I looked up to more than anything. The man who’s haunted my nightmares for fifteen years.
Just maybe…the man who’s been hurting all this time.
My mind replays Max’s voice as he spoke of Roman’s grief and why my father took the necklace. His wife had just died, and he needed something tangible to cling to.
He thought I was dead. Dimitri and I ensured my name never showed up anywhere, specifically so Roman would believe I didn’t leave the island.
My mind ping-pongs back and forth.
He loved Mom. He killed her. He grieved her every day.He killed her!
I scrub harder. The loofah scrapes against my ribs and thighs as I try to erase the lingering doubt.
My mind is so mixed up, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think anymore.
After getting out of bed, Max and I ate, tidied up a bit, checked the radar to confirm that the storm was basically over, and even brought in fresh firewood. But we didn’t talk. We’ve both said too much already.
So I told him I was taking a shower. I needed privacy.
My hand slides down my stomach, rinsing away the soap. The memory of Max’s stubble scratching over my skin gives me goosebumps.
I want to stop thinking.
Needto stop thinking.
The answer—so obvious now—bubbles up from my chest like champagne as I laugh and shut off the water.
Not bothering with a towel, I step out. Max gives me the privacy I’d requested, and the bedroom door remains closed. Steam billows around me, and condensation runs down my skin. My hair, silvery gray from the water, hangs in wet strands over my shoulders.
When I open the bedroom door, I find him pacing across the living room.
