Page 78 of Roman

CHAPTER 18

ROMAN

Iworked myself into a frenzy on the short drive. I jumped from the car before it even stopped moving. Scanning, looking. Desperate. My heart hammered in my chest, my rapid pulse echoing in my ears. There was no sign of Effie.

And then I spotted her. Huddled. Alone. Sitting on a decrepit bench across the street, firefighters and police still around. She was staring at the yellow caution tape surrounding the spot where her little diner used to stand. She was a hunched mass of pain, and the sight of her despair killed my anger. Relief flooded my body, and I was shaking as I strode toward her, grateful she was there and unharmed.

I dropped to the bench beside her. She startled, so intent on her lost diner she hadn’t even noticed me. It would have been so easy for the Santinis’ men to have taken her. She wouldn’t have put up a fight. Terror filled me simply at the thought.

“Don’t…” she began.

I held up my hand. “I won’t. I should have brought you. I’m sorry.”

She looked surprised, then turned her gaze back across the street. “There is nothing,” she whispered. “All of it’s gone.”

“You can buy it all again, Effie. I checked your insurance. The value of your property. You can rebuild.”

She shook her head, her voice a choked sob. “Not the building,” she said.

“What then?”

“My photo albums. A few boxes of my mom’s. They were all I had of her, and now they are all gone.”

I turned, daring to touch her cheek. She looked so fragile right now. Vulnerable. “No, Effie.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“When you reacted so badly the other day, I knew you could never go back and live there. I sent my men, and they removed all your things. Everything is in storage at the hotel. Safe and sound.”

“Wh-what?” she stuttered.

“Your memories are safe, Little Tiger. Nothing is lost that you loved.”

Her beautiful eyes filled with tears that coursed down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound.

“Do you want to stay, or can I take you back now?” I asked.

She shook her head, trying to stand, but she was shaking so badly, she could barely stay on her feet. I swung her into my arms and carried her to the car. Aldo had the door open, waiting for us, and I slid in, holding her tight. She was weeping without making a noise.

Something about this woman and her silent tears dug deep into my soul. I felt her pain. I wanted to take it away, but I knew I couldn’t. All I could do was try to help her. Ease her through this new trauma.

And God help me, I wanted to.

She looked up, the red rims of her eyes making me ache.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I pressed a kiss to her head, and she tucked her face against my chest.

I met Aldo’s gaze, seeing only empathy. I nodded in understanding.

I finally got it.

Feelings.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Fucking feelings.