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Roman’s abandonment affected more than just me. It tore my stepfather apart, and seeing his son again probably brought back all those emotions. I know it’s hard for me, but I can’t imagine what it’s like for him.
For both of them, a little voice whispers in the back of my mind, reminding me Isaac isn’t the only tortured man here anymore.
My hand mindlessly moves to the locket at my throat, and I glide it along the gold chain. Back and forth, as I watch the dust settle. Feeling the weight of the pendant between my fingers grounds me, but it also sends me into another wave of chaotic emotions.
Flashbacks of our drive home flit through my mind.
The country roads passed by in a familiar blur. The scent of Isaac’s cologne mingled with the earthy smell of sprouting corn. The song Mama used to sing me while toying with this very necklace had spilled from my lips as I relaxed happily in our little bubble.
I was so blissfully happy, so unaware of the devastation and chaos that was waiting for us. For the man waiting to pop the delicate bubble we’d just formed in such a brutal, sudden way.
I blink back the stinging building behind my eyes.
Where did Isaac go? I bite my lip and wring my hands, going through every possible place he could’ve gone in my mind. But I come up empty. Other than the church or this house, he doesn’t have a solace. He has God, and he has me.
But he drove the opposite direction of the church, and he’s definitely not here at home with me. So, where did he go?
I look around as if I’m expecting him to drive back and hop out of his truck, a giant smile on his face. But I know that won’t happen. He’s gone.
Where did Roman go?
A part of me is on edge, anticipating him jumping out of nowhere to scare me. Just to be a nuisance, like old times. But when my heartbeat finally settles, I realize I truly am alone.
Everything is silent, even the summer bugs and birds are long gone. The breeze has died down, leaving the trees to relax where they stand. The grass is motionless, the lake a still, peaceful surface, reflecting the clear blue sky.
The world is holding its breath as though it knows something is coming. The calm before the storm. It’s eerie.
Everyone is gone.
And if I were smart, I would be too.
Instead, I find myself stepping out onto the porch and looking around. “Roman?” I call hesitantly, his name feeling foreign on my tongue as my voice cracks.
Nothing. If he’s nearby, he doesn’t show himself.
I take another step, the old boards creaking under my feet. My heart hammers in my chest as I inch my way closer to the edge of the porch, still scanning the vast expanse of land before me.
In late summer, the field separating our home and the old church is full of overgrown wildflowers. Usually, I love the way they look surrounding the lake, but right now, they feel ominous.
My eyes catch on a black beast of a motorcycle parked under the old oak tree by Barry’s and my stomach flips.
Is that what he drives now?
Chase never told me. Internally, I scoff. Why would he? I never asked about Roman. Why would Chase willingly tell me something as silly as what Roman drives—or rides—now?
And how the hell didn’t I notice it when we’d gotten home? It stands out amongst the otherwise serene landscape like an eyesore.
Fuck.
I didn’t notice because I’d been too wrapped up in Isaac, in his touch, his scent. Too lost in the memories of the way his body felt moving inside mine, his hard cock sliding down my throat, between my thighs—
Shaking my head to clear the memories, I take in the seemingly peaceful day around me as I quickly make my way down the steps. If Roman’s bike is still here, and I’m assuming that is his bike, then where is he? He left out the front door only minutes ago, I should be able to see him. It’s not like he can just disappear.
But he can, a voice in my head sings. He’s disappeared before, who’s to say he won’t again? That’s what he does, after all.
My stomach churns with each step across the driveway. Gravel crunches under my sandals as my eyes scan every inch of the area around me, looking for the moody asshole.
In some ways, he’s exactly the same. But in most ways, I don’t recognize him. He’s massive—taller and more filled out than I remember. His hair is impossibly blacker, and his eyes…I’ve dreamt about those eyes for years, and they’re exactly the same. They’re haunted, but soft. Like him.
