28. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
L una
Despite knowing about my father’s involvement, and understanding more about Roman’s reasons for forcing the internship, I was still relieved to be home. Roman’s house had grown on me, and having my things scattered around made it feel more like my home.
A stack of books littered his coffee table, and my hoodie hung on the ugly modern sculpture in the entryway. His house wasn’t as pristine and lifeless as it had been the first time I saw it. But now, I needed to reassess whether I could stay here with him.
Roman threw his keys on the counter and turned to study me. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
While he showered, I snuck into our bedroom, grabbed some clothes, and went to the guest bedroom to shower. Laying my clothes on the bed, I showered quickly but stopped short when I walked back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around me. Roman stood leaning against the door jamb. My heart thudded, and heat coursed through me as we stared at each other.
Clearing my throat, I tugged the towel around me and motioned to the pile of clothes on the bed. “Let me get dressed, and then we can talk.”
He closed the door, walked over to me, and slowly backed me against the wall. Then he rested his hands on either side of my head, effectively blocking me in. Leaning down, he murmured against my neck, “I want to fuck you against this wall, then in our bed, and after we eat and sleep for a few hours, take you again on the kitchen table. Then we can talk.”
“And I’d like to get paid to drink margaritas and read all day. We don’t always get what we want.” My voice grew soft. “You hate me because of my father, and you lied to me about why you wanted me as an intern.”
He leaned in and ran his mouth against my jaw, nipping and licking as he went. “We can have what we want. I don’t hate you, and I never lied to you, Ms. Fowler.”
He bit my earlobe and gently kissed me, sliding his tongue across my lips. His touch sent lightning through my system, and my hand came up and wrapped around his neck before I knew what I’d done.
He groaned into my mouth and pushed me against the wall as he ground his length into my lower stomach. Then he slowly pulled back and laid his forehead on mine. “You still want to talk first?”
The bastard had gotten me hot and needy, then thought he could leave me like this. “No, damn you.” I rolled up on my toes and crashed my mouth against his.
He chuckled darkly and jerked the edge of my towel, pulling it out of my fingers and dropping it to the floor. Then Roman found my hands, slid his fingers through mine, and brought them over my head.
“You could have died yesterday, or been shot. I need to be inside you.”
My heart pounded, and heat rose in me. But doubt also crept in. Why would he care if I got hurt unless he wanted to be the one to inflict the pain? And why did I still crave him and think of his house as my home after knowing he wanted revenge against my father and planned to use me to get it?
“Stop thinking and worrying, Sweetness. We’ll get there.” He ripped his t-shirt off and rubbed his chest against mine, groaning as our skin connected. My nipples pebbled, and I broke out in goosebumps. He took my wrists in one hand and held them above my head, then palmed my pussy, working his fingers against my clit. When my hips started bucking against his hand, he shoved his fingers deep inside.
“Your cunt is soaking wet for me. Your body knows who you belong to, even if your brain hasn’t figured it out yet.”
My head arched back when he leaned down and sucked, then bit, on my nipples. “Oh, God. How can you do this to me, every single time?”
“You make me fucking crazy, so it’s only fair.” He let go of my wrists, then slid his gym shorts and briefs off, kicking them away and wrapping his hands around my waist. “Put your legs around me.”
I stared up at him, frozen in indecision and lust.
“Or I can bend you over the bed and fuck you hard from behind, with your hair wrapped around my fist. Either way works for me.”
My cheeks flushed with heat, and I moaned softly as I brought my leg up.
He palmed my ass, hoisted me up, then positioned his cock to my opening. “Open your eyes. Watch me take you against the wall.”
When I opened my eyes, he shoved inside, hissing in pleasure as he worked his thick, hard length into me. “Good Christ. Your cunt feels like tight liquid heat. When I’m done drilling you here, I’ll fuck you over the dresser next.”
My neck arched, and a crushing orgasm started building inside me at his dirty, unfiltered words. When he brought his hand around to work my clit, I cried out his name and came, pinned against the wall.
Two hours, a hasty meal, and two orgasms later, I passed out in his bed with our limbs tangled together. When I woke, it was still dark outside. Roman wasn’t in the bed, but he’d left a living room lamp on. I put on his dress shirt and found him out by the pool on a lounger, watching the Vegas skyline and smoking a joint.
Closing the patio door, I walked over as he held it up to me. “It’s an Indica-dominant, organic strain. Good for PTSD and whatever ails you.”
My heart squeezed when he mentioned PTSD–we both knew a little about that. Marijuana might be legal in Nevada, but my drug of choice was usually tequila shots or white wine. I extracted the joint from his fingers and took a hit, coughing a little. Without thinking, I sat on his oversized lounger and swung my legs up, curling into him. Handing the joint back, I put my head on his chest.
He wrapped an arm around me, and we lay there for a few minutes, listening to crickets chirping in the bushes and smelling the scent of sagebrush and marijuana drift on the breeze. I gazed up at the night sky, spotting the quarter moon and a few planets blinking brightly overhead.
He took a slow hit, then handed me the joint again. I took another hit, then gave it back to him. “Two is my limit. I don’t have a tolerance, and we’ve postponed our talk long enough.” I exhaled and gazed up at him. “I need to know why.”
Melancholy and sorrow swirled through me. I tried to be angry at him for systematically shoving through my barriers and suspicions, and making me care for him when there were so many red flags that didn’t make sense at the time. I could only blame myself for not heeding my own instincts.
Roman smashed the joint into an ashtray on the side table then wrapped his arms around me, drawing my body flush with his. “When my father sent me to the Ranch, I was grieving and angry, but what happened there made everything that came before seem small and insignificant. That place… It came straight from the darkest bowels of Hell. Most of the guards were sadists, and they’d beat one of us in front of the other boys and then throw us in solitary with just enough food and water–that was if we were lucky and they didn’t get creative with their torture. Some boys tried to run, and a few disappeared.”
He stopped talking and gazed out at the night. The two hits from his joint didn’t lessen the impact of his words. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Ivan found out they’d told everyone those dead boys had run away. I knew we were fucked unless we got ourselves out.”
“How’d you get away?”
He put his free hand behind his head and gazed up at the sky. “We smuggled a few messages out to Xander’s little sister, but they caught him one day.”
I didn’t want to know, but I asked anyway. “What happened?”
“They mounted him on a doorframe by driving screwdrivers through his palms then whipped him until his back was a bloody mess. He still has nerve damage and nightmares.”
“What did they do to you?” I whispered.
He smiled mirthlessly. “They knew how to beat us without causing lasting damage but inflicting maximum pain, and they used deprivation and exposure regularly.” He gazed down at me. “I don’t want to give you nightmares, love. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”
Nodding, I patted his stomach. “Okay, I’ve got enough of my own. How long were you there?”
His hand spasmed against my shoulder, and Roman let out a long breath. “One year, three months, and five days. It felt like twenty years. Gideon and his agents got us out. Xander and his sister had a secret code, and Gia is the one who contacted the FBI.”
“How’d you find out who the owners were?”
“The same way Alexa did. Ivan is slowly digging them up, and we’ve methodically hunted them down over the years. They avoided prosecution because, like your father, they were in positions of power. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and we’ve taken our sweet time.” He ran his nose along my hairline and inhaled. “Drakos started going after the guards too. His mouth earned him a lot of enemies, and they seemed to target him more than the rest of us.”
“What does your tattoo mean? Veritas odium parit? ” I asked as I trailed my fingers down its length.
“Truth breeds hatred.”
His words chilled me, and I slid closer to him, seeking his warmth. No wonder Roman wanted to cause my father whatever pain and anguish he could inflict. I couldn’t blame him.
“Where does Klim Hudson fit in?”
“His younger brother died there. He and Gideon helped us get some semblance of our lives back, and assisted us in getting into law school.”
It all finally clicked into place. “Klim tracked me down and offered me a partial scholarship. Then sent me to you and your firm on purpose, knowing who my father was.” He held me to him but didn’t answer. “When I asked you to release me from the internship, you refused.”
“Klim probably thought if we got to know you, it’d help us let go of our hate. But I want Montgomery Cross to pay.”
“By punishing me.” I pulled away from him and sat up.
He watched me carefully. “At first, before I knew you, and what he did to you.”
“And now? Do you still want revenge?”
“Yes.”
Pain coursed through me. His admission didn’t surprise me because his animosity and hatred were there when we first met. My subconscious had tried to warn me, but I couldn’t put the pieces together until Alexa unburied my father’s involvement in the Ranch. There was no reasonable explanation for Roman’s insistence on me being his intern–except this.
I sat up and slid off the lounger. He watched me with hooded eyes. “I’m sorry for what happened to all of you. You’ll never know how sorry.” I took a step back, despair rising in my throat. “But I won’t be a punching bag for him. He… doesn’t care about me, and I loathe him.”
Roman sat up. “You’re not leaving.”
I backed up. “I can’t be with you if you only want to hurt me. When you’re at work on Monday, I’ll come and get the rest of my things. Fenn and my cousins will watch over me until the situation with the Stracks settles down.”
He stood, and before I could get away, he snaked his hand out and grabbed my arm, pulling me into him. “I don’t want revenge from you, and Fenn won’t protect you like I will. Lionel tried to kidnap you today, and he’s desperate and wounded now.”
I struggled in his arms for a few seconds, then went limp. “You need to let me go before we get in too deep and hurt each other more than we already have.”
“No. I can’t.”
“I hate that word.”
“But you don’t hate me. I’ve lost enough in my life–I’m not fucking losing you too.” He swept me up in his arms and carried me into the house, not stopping until we were back in his bedroom. Laying me down on the bed, he crawled over me, bracing himself on his elbows. “That hellhole broke something in me, and now I want to hurt everyone to some degree. When it comes to women, I’ve twisted it into dominance and submission. But you love what I give you, and we fit in our own dark, fucked up way.”
I turned my head and stared at the wall as Fenn’s words rang in my head. We were both so damaged, I wondered if we could ever be happy. “I’ve already been broken, now I just want to be left alone.” Tears leaked out.
He leaned in and licked them up, kissing the corners of my mouth. “No, you don’t, and neither do I. Ivan gave me the police report, and I know exactly what happened to you. Your parents should be rotting in prison.”
“Ivan had no right,” I whispered.
“He had every right after what those fuckers did to us. Knowing what happened to you, and why, makes you one of ours. It makes you mine .” Leaning back on his heels, he studied me in the moonlight. “We don’t have to pretend with each other, and I love having you in the house, puttering around and asking a million questions. Leaving books and candy wrappers around. I want us to fight for this, Sweetness. Don’t let him win again.”
My heart ached, and bone-deep sadness settled over me. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his face beside mine. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I hate him so much…” Burying my face in his neck, I struggled not to break down.
He kissed my hair and wrapped his arms tight around me. “I never should have blamed you. But it brought us here, and I’m fucking keeping you.”
His declaration loosened something inside me, and I turned into him and let go. Roman held me while I cried against him. It had been years since I’d let myself break down like this, but I couldn’t hold back anymore. My mind emptied and shut down for once, and he settled me into his arms as I wept–for both of us.