19. Roman #2
My voice cuts off. The sentence finishes itself inside my head. He was the one pushing us toward Ackworth. My hands slide off Fae as I stand abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor through the silence of the room.
“Roman—” Fae starts softly.
“No,” I snap, dragging a hand down my face as I pace two steps away before stopping again. “This doesn’t make sense,” I repeat, but the words sound weaker even to me.
Somewhere deep down I can already feel the truth settling in. The man who raised me, who taught me how to fight, how to hunt, how to kill, is a fucking monster.
“Do you know what he does to little girls?” I snap as the words tear out of me before I can stop them and I swing my fury toward Mum.
It isn’t fair.
I know it isn’t.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I know she’s not the one who did this, but the disgust clawing its way through my chest needs somewhere to go and right now it lands on the only person standing in front of me. My skin suddenly feels too tight, like I’m trapped inside it as I step towards her.
“DO YOU?” I roar when she doesn’t answer.
My shout echoes off the walls and the room goes dead still.
My clothes feel suffocating against my skin, the fabric clinging to me as if it is personally trying to kill me.
I drag a shaky hand to my face and press my fingers hard against my eyes as if I can force the images in my head to disappear.
My mum’s eyes fill with tears as she slowly shakes her head, but instead of looking at me she glances past my shoulder.
I spin around. Fae is standing there. Her bright green eyes are locked on mine, soft and unbearable and full of that same love she’s always looked at me with. The sight of it makes me feel nauseous.
I can’t take it.
I don’t deserve it.
I turn away from her immediately, cracking my neck to try and release the tension building inside.
“I’m killing him,” I spit as I look around the room before landing back on my mum. “Do you fucking understand me, Mum? He’s dead.”
Her bottom lip trembles and the instinct to comfort her flickers through me, but it dies just as quickly as it appeared.
“It’s him or me,” I continue, as my voice hardens. “You choose.”
“Ro… that’s not fair,” Fae’s soft voice says from behind me.
I spin around so quickly the movement makes the room sway.
“What?” I whisper, half in shock and half in disbelief.
“He kidnapped you. He let Fisher rape you.” The word tastes like acid in my mouth as my chest rises and falls harder. “And, and… and it’s not just you, Fae. It’s Robyn and Hazel and Emily… she’s thirteen, Fae! THIRTEEN!”
“Ro, listen to me…”
“Who else didn’t we save? Who else?” I choke. “Who else’s blood is on my hands?” I lift both hands in front of my face, and they shake as the vision of innocent children’s blood drips all over them.
Fae steps toward me.
I recoil before I can stop myself.
“How can you even look at me right now?” I spit out with bitterness.
The disgust I feel toward myself burns just as fiercely as the rage.
The blood running through my veins suddenly feels contaminated, like something dark has always been there and I’ve just been too blind to see it.
All the violence I’ve spent years trying to control, trying to bury beneath discipline and restraint, suddenly feels closer than it ever has before.
Familiar. Like maybe this is the part of me that was always meant to win.
Fae doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t step back or shrink away from the anger pouring out of me. Instead, she takes more careful steps forward and lifts her hands slowly as if she’s approaching a wounded animal that might bolt.
“You’re not him,” she says quietly.
A harsh laugh rips out of me and I drag both hands down my face as I try to steady the chaos spinning inside my head. The rest of the room fades to the edges of my awareness whilst my focus locks entirely on her.
“Really?” I bite out. “Because the blood running through my veins says otherwise.”
“Roman—”
“No,” I snap, pacing away from her again. “He did this in my house, Fae. My fucking house. The place I grew up. The place I brought my friends to for Christmas dinners and birthdays and stupid family barbecues in the garden.” My voice cracks despite my best effort to keep it steady.
“He chained you to a bed there.” I drag in a breath that doesn’t quite reach my lungs. “And you’re standing there telling me I’m not him?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“You don’t understand,” I mutter as I shake my head and my eyes drop to the floor.
“No,” she says softly. “You don’t.”
My head snaps up as she moves closer. I can see the bruising still covering her skin and the shadows under her eyes that weren’t there a month ago.
“Your dad helped hurt me,” she says quietly. “I’m not pretending he didn’t.”
I scoff.
“But you…” Her voice steadies as her eyes lock onto mine. “You’re the one who sits up all night making sure I’m breathing. You’re the one who takes it on your shoulders so I don’t have to feel it. You’re the one who loses control trying to protect people, not hurt them.”
I shake my head, but she keeps stepping closer.
“You think your DNA makes you the same as him? Then what does that make me? Huh?” Her voice sharpens. “The blood in my veins comes from a monster too. So what, we’re just doomed to turn into them? Should we all just give up now?”
Her voice softens as she shakes her head. “No, Ro, it doesn’t work like that. You see, when the nightmares hit me, it’s you I run to. Not from. That’s the difference.”
I walk back toward the armchair slowly, aware of every pair of eyes in the room following me.
“But what if I am?” My legs give out beneath me, and I slump into the chair, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees.
“You’re nothing like your dad, sweet boy,” my mum’s voice carries softly across the room and my breath catches in my throat as I keep my gaze locked on the floor.
“You chose love over duty, Roman,” she continues gently. “And so do I.”
My head flicks up. She’s standing in front of me, her shoulders drawn back, and her chin lifted high like this revelation hasn’t just shattered our lives. My strong, beautiful mum. The woman who walked into hell tonight and brought the love of my life home… whilst losing her own in the same breath.
I’m a shitty son.
“Mum, I’m—” She lifts her hand, cutting me off before the words can leave my mouth.
“I know, sweet boy,” she says quietly. “I know.”
The air leaves my lungs in a slow breath, and I notice Fae moving toward me again. I lean forward immediately and pull her into my arms, holding her tightly in front of me. My hands land on her hips and my forehead presses against her stomach. Against our baby.
“So, what now?” Riggs mutters into the silence.
I look down at my hands wrapped around Fae before lifting my gaze toward the front door. Only an hour ago I promised her no one would ever hurt her again. Promised her I would protect her and the child growing inside her no matter what it cost.
And I meant it.
Which means every loose end in this story has to disappear.
“We finish this.”