Page 97 of The Promise

He didn’t break his father’s stare. Demyan cleared his throat, clearly getting the hint.

Roman had taken her—not just once but many times since they first met. She had given herself to him, freely, in every way she wanted, and nobody could take that away from them. No prior agreement would change that or what it meant.

“She’s not going anywhere near him,” Roman muttered after a minute.

Demyan’s expression didn’t waver. “Well, you won’t know if you’re dead, son.”

Yeah.

There was that.

TWENTY

No matter how hard she tried or how long she stared into the dark shadows of her bedroom, Karine couldn’t get the image of blinking awake to Claire and Masha huddled over her. They’d patted cool facecloths against her face, hushed words shared between them as she came to and their attention had again turned on her.

Claire had been asking her for the month and year. Masha, on the other hand, only wanted to know how she was feeling. Karine couldn’t understand why—the only thing on her mind was Roman.

It was the stunned, wary gazes of the older women while they watched Karine where they had laid her on the bed, that she couldn’t quite forget. Their hesitance had only swirled her nerves and fear together, making her voice shake when she had asked, “Did you see Katina?”

Because she’d fought hard.

Knew that irrational fear wasn’t her own.

Karine tried.

It was all she could do.

She had tried.

Hope was a terribly dangerous thing, but she dared to feel it all the same. Karine couldn’t quite explain the way the exhausted joy flooded her when Claire had shaken her head, whispering only, “No.”

Her happiness didn’t last long.

Then, what was the problem?

No one seemed to want to answer that question. Even Jimmy had avoided Karine’s gaze when he slipped into the bedroom to bring Claire more wet facecloths. It felt like Karine had won a battle—keeping Katina at bay, even if she didn’t know how long it would last—only to lose another.

“Is Roman okay?” Karine had asked.

The catalyst couldn’t be avoided.

She had to know.

Claire had tried to brush the concern off, saying Roman had simply gotten into some trouble with his father. He wasn’t even supposed to be in Vermont in the first place, apparently. Except his mother’s words felt hollow—bare of any sadness, yes, but also lacking any realness, too.

She just wished, for once, people would stop treating her like a frail, pathetic creature and just fucking tell her the truth. She never got those answers, instead shuffled under fluffy, soft blankets that were too cold without someone else to share them with, and that’s where Karine had stayed.

Staring at the shadows for hours.

Thinking.

Her personal victory was dampened by the lingering unease she couldn’t quite shake. Karine couldn’t fall asleep, her mind spinning though she ignored it to drown in her own thoughts instead. Their bleak haven wasn’t much better, to be honest.

At least, with the late night, the lodge had quieted outside her bedroom door. Everyone seemed to be asleep, her chaos had passed, but what about the rest?

Where was Roman?

Why wouldn’t they tell her?