Page 26 of Roman

CHAPTER 7

EFFIE

Iwoke, my eyelids flying open. I’d had the most terrible nightmare. I pressed a hand on my heart to calm the racing, only to realize, as I took in the dim room, it hadn’t been a nightmare. This wasn’t my room or my bed.

And I hadn’t dreamed the man currently asleep in the chair by the foot of the bed. It had been his voice waking me, lifting my head for sips of water, asking me my name and his.

Roman Costas.

I took a moment to study him in the muted light. Asleep, the stern countenance was softened. His full lips were parted, his breathing deep and even. His dark chestnut hair spilled over his forehead, and scruff dusted his chin. He looked younger. Not so dangerous. He was in a simple T-shirt and sweats, and I blushed thinking of how he’d dressed me the night before.

I had no idea what to make of him. One moment, he was kind; the next, he seemed angry. He refused to let me leave yet let me know he was as unhappy about it as I was.

Still, he touched me with nothing but gentleness. His voice all night was low and concerned. I swore I felt his hand running over my head, and I heard him hushing me, telling me everything was all right. It comforted me greatly.

I must have imagined that.

I needed to get up, and I gingerly lifted the blankets, pushing myself into a sitting position, a low groan escaping my mouth. Roman’s eyes flew open, and he shot from the chair as if the room was on fire.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I have to get up.”

“What do you need? I’ll get it.”

I huffed a breath. “I have to pee.”

“Oh.” He straightened. “Right. Of course.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Do you need help?”

“No. I’ll do it.”

It took me a moment, but I swung my legs out of bed, holding in my hiss of pain. It felt as if I had been hit by a Mack truck. I pushed off the mattress, the room around me spinning. Before I could take a step, Roman had me in his arms.

“You can try again later, Little Tiger. Enough.”

He carried me into the bathroom, setting me on my feet. “Okay now?” he asked.

“Yes.” There was no way I was peeing with him in the room. I needed to maintain a little pride.

“Call me when you’re done.”

I planned on walking back to bed myself. But I stayed quiet, relieved my bladder, and carefully stood, waiting until the dizziness had passed before shuffling to the vanity to wash my hands. I glanced in the mirror, my face as frightening as I thought it had looked last night. The bruises were vivid and dark. My lip was split. I saw marks on my neck, and when I looked down, my stomach and legs showed trauma as well. My head ached, the constant pounding a dull roar in my ears. I gripped the edge of the sink and took in some deep breaths. I moved to the door, opening it quietly. Roman wasn’t in the room, but I heard his voice, so I knew he was close. It took all my energy and effort to walk toward the bed. My legs ached and I felt exhausted. I was almost there when he stepped back into the room.

“So stubborn,” he muttered, winding his arm around my waist and helping me the last few feet. I leaned into him, relying on his strength, but I was grateful to feel the plush mattress under me. He pressed two more pills into my mouth and let me sip the cold water until the glass was empty. It felt good on my throat. “Back to sleep,” he ordered. “I’ll get you some breakfast when you wake up.”

I was too tired to argue, so I shut my eyes. I heard his sigh, and I felt his eyes on me.

“What am I going to do with you, Little Tiger?” he mumbled.

Keep me, were the words that drifted through my head as I succumbed to the exhaustion. Where they came from, I didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. That wasn’t what I really wanted.

Was it?

The next time I opened my eyes, Roman was gone. In his place was a woman roughly my age. She was tall and slender, her dark hair short. She was curled into the chair Roman had slept in, and she was reading. On a table beside her was a steaming cup of coffee. I wondered if the aroma of it had woken me up.

I gingerly sat up, and she snapped her Kindle shut. “Hello,” she greeted me. “I’m Vi. Violet if you prefer, but I prefer Vi. And you’re Effie. The breathing miracle.”

I blinked. “The breathing miracle?”