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Lying.
Cheating.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I deserved what happened. I’ve been camming behind Isaac’s back, sleeping with my stepfather, messing around with my stepbrother, keeping things from the people I love most in this world while spreading my legs for strangers.
God, I did something so stupid, so reckless, I wound up getting hurt. Stalked and attacked. Assaulted and violated.
I brought danger to my sleepy hometown, to the church, to the people who find solace in that sacred space.
I did that.
What about Clover? Poor, sweet and innocent Clover was hospitalized because of me.
And this man, this friend of Roman’s, sees it all.
Has he told him how unworthy I am?
He should. Roman deserves to know.
Maybe that’s why instead of exploding in anger, I find myself nodding and saying words that feel strange on my tongue.
“You’re right.” I swallow acid. “It is my fault.”
Chase and Oli give me incredulous looks that are so similar, I should laugh. But I can’t, because my eyes are too busy filling with tears as I keep my gaze locked on Kon’s, letting him see the truth written all over my face.
His dark eyes narrow, his brows dipping low as he goes still. I can tell I’ve caught him off guard and maybe rendered him speechless. But there’s nothing left to say.
So, I call on every lesson Mama ever taught me and slowly push to my feet, silently collecting empty dishes. No one speaks as I make my way to the sink and quietly wash them. It’s not until Chase grips my shoulders and murmurs a barely audible, it’ll be okay, that I realize I’m crying.
I bob my head and wipe my tears on my arm. He gently moves me to the side, his eyes filled with sympathy that’s too much, too nice.
Using his chin, he points toward the living room. “Second door in the second hall. I made up the bed for you. Clean sheets.” He tilts his head to the side and looks somewhere over my shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a nap?”
With a brittle, painful smile, I nod, and silently disappear, wishing with everything I have that maybe this time, I’ll stay that way.
Someone jostles me, grumbling something in a language I don’t understand. I swat at their hand, but their grip tightens. “Get up,” the heavily accented voice growls.
I crack an eye open, noticing the ceiling that’s not my ceiling first. Then the giant, tattooed, bearded man looming over me.
I jolt upright, shoving him away.
My heart is in my throat, and I press my hand to my chest. “Jesus Christ,” I breathe, glaring at him. “What time is it?”
“Seven,” he grunts. “Up. We have shit to do. Get dressed.”
“What?”
But he doesn’t answer me. He’s already at the door—at Roman’s door. I look around the room again, letting myself truly take it in for the first time. I’d been too out of it when Chase sent me here yesterday and judging by the time, I slept all day and night.
Black sheets, black comforter, black pillow cases. Clothes are strewn around the closet where black t-shirts are hanging. Two bookshelves, both dark wood, are overflowing with books.
And the smell…
It’s so completely, totally Roman it makes my throat close up.
Where is he?
I shove the thought away as I slip from his bed, ignoring the need to snoop, to get to know him outside of Divinity. Instead, I stumble out of the room and down the hallway.
