Page 68 of The Promise

When Leonid or Dima did eventually hit, he wanted to see it coming. Really, it was the only thing he could do.

Work was entirely out of the question, even if Roman thought it might serve as a good distraction to the fact he fought every day not to return to Vermont. But no, a decent, worthwhile scheme wouldn’t serve the purpose of staying out of sight and on the move. He hadn’t been involved in any of the chop shop business since he left Chicago with Karine in tow.

That shit was trash, too.

Nothing was in Roman’s favor. Life was having a good laugh at his goddamn expense.

He had an itch he couldn’t scratch—an ever-present desire to return to some semblance of normal, or what his normal used to be.

That just wasn’t possible, and really ... he wouldn’t take any of it back, if he could. It meant no Karine, after all, and the idea of that bothered him more than even the fact he couldn’t be with her now.

Roman figured that said something.

He just wasn’t ready to say it, too.

Eyeing Marky in the rearview mirror only to find his friend was focused on the bumper to bumper traffic, Roman pulled out his phone and dialed Karine’s number. He’d gotten a bull at the lodge to arrange a phone for her the very same day he left. Shit, he had to figure out something, didn’t he?

From what he’d been told, the phone at least eased the impact after he was gone. Karine answered the call at the start of the second ring, like she’d been waiting for it.

“I missed your voice,” were her first words.

Roman grinned. “Oh?”

“It’s kind of stupid.”

“Or cute.”

Even he raised a brow at the choice of word he used—cute—not at all something he would usually say. Marky didn’t hide the fact he shot a glance at Roman in the rearview mirror, either.

His reply was a look—it said everything. Fuck off.

“Are you having a good day?” Roman asked, going back to what mattered.

His phone call.

Karine.

Sprawling deeper into the backseat, he tipped his head back to stare at the roof of the car. Like that, he could picture Karine’s face. How those pretty, perfect bow-shaped lips would form a smile when she spoke. He just wanted to see her. Every inch of her.

Fuck, yeah.

That’s what he was—fucked.

He missed her, too.

“I think so,” Karine said after a pause.

“You think it was a good day?”

“Well, we did a lot of walking.”

Roman held back the snort at how her tone dipped. He’d come to learn over the course of their many phone conversations that while Karine loved the lodge, the property full of dense wilderness, and the safe space it allowed her, she also liked to just ... be. Sitting under a tree with a blanket, curled in bed watching the fire crackle in the fireplace. But she wasn’t the active type.

A stroll was great, long walks ... not so much.

“Anyway,” Karine said, drawing him from his thoughts. “Michelle and I, we went for a walk around the lake right after breakfast, then we kept talking and talking, and lost track of time.”

He did chuckle at that. “So, did you really mind all the walking if you lost track of time?”