52. Roman
ROMAN
I ’ve never been a violent person, but right now I could burn down this entire town.
“I swear to God, Benny, if they touch her, I will make sure everyone pays for it. Where are they taking her?” I ask, standing over him.
He shakes his head and rasps out, “I overheard Freddy telling someone to get her to him. That he’d take her to the spot where you saved her. They know it will draw you out.”
My brows furrow. Upside Down Rock. “How do they know where that is?”
Benny gives me an incredulous look. “Freddy knows everything, Roman. Haven’t you figured that out? There’s a reason he’s able to kill news stories and bend them the way he wants. You and Juliette were photographed years ago, and he got the pictures.”
Maybe if my mind wasn’t so singularly focused on finding her, I’d be able to focus on what the hell he just said.
I scoff. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He gives me a look. “You don’t really have a choice, do you, cousin?”
I’ve never driven faster than when I get behind the wheel of Benjamin’s car, and before I can blink, we’re at the base of Verona County Park.
“What happens when I go up there?” I ask Benjamin as the car idles.
“Juliette will be there, but listen, he’s expecting you.”
I grit my teeth and nod. If something happens to Juliette…
“I don’t care,” I say. “He can have me as long as he lets her go.”
He nods once, and I reach out to grab his arm.
“I’m going to find Lance, okay?” he reassures me.
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Lance was there . Isn’t he in on this?”
“Lance is a prisoner just like everybody else. Freddy promised him a way out, and he’s desperate for it. But there’s no fucking way he’d let them hurt Juliette.”
I blow out a deep breath and nod again, throwing open the car door and trekking up the hill. Fury lines my blood, and my focus is singular.
Get to Juliette.
If it’s me Frederick wants, then fine. He can have me.
When I get to the open space at the top of the cliff, I don’t see Frederick anywhere.
My eyes skim over the area, and on top of the picnic bench where I fell in love, there she is.
She’s knocked out cold, laid out on her side, and her hands and legs are bound with what looks like rope. My vision narrows, and I race to her, picking her up from the table and dragging her onto the ground and into my lap, my hand brushing her cheek. “Juliette.”
Her head lolls to the side, and I lean forward and press my trembling lips to hers, my stomach filling with dread. “Little Rose, wake up, please .”
My fingers grip her neck, trying to find a pulse, and a breath of relief hits me when I do.
Not dead.
No blood, either. Thank God.
Juliette whimpers, and my gaze moves back to her, my hand on her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, and she groans again, shifting like she’s trying to move her hands.
Fuck. I should have started to untie those right away. I move to try and untangle the knots, but before I get anywhere, footsteps sound behind me, and then Frederick walks into the space, a smile on his face.
“Roman, you made it,” he says.
Juliette’s eyes close again, and she’s back out, another small whimper leaving her.
“What did you do to her?” I spit at him.
Gingerly, I put her on the ground and move to stand in front of her, like I can keep him from even looking at her too closely.
I still have the pocketknife on me from earlier, and I’ve never been a murderer, but if he tries to get close to her, I will kill him. Even if it gives me nightmares for the rest of my life.
He looks around. “Just us?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I ask.
“I wasn’t sure Benny would follow through. He’s a little fickle, runs on emotions, you know?”
Did Benjamin trick me here? Am I all alone in this?
“That’s funny,” I say. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Juliette whimpers yet again, and even though I was just trying to wake her up, now I want her to stay asleep. I don’t want her to have any memory of this; maybe then, she can wake up later and it will just feel like a bad dream.
“Me?” Frederick laughs. “I’m the opposite.”
“So, you planned to shoot Tyler last night?”
He grimaces. “An unfortunate hiccup. However, Tyler shouldn’t have gotten in the way of things. He had a part to play, and he did not play it well.”
“What part?”
I’m hoping that if I can keep him talking, then maybe it will give Benjamin time to get to Lance. Assuming he meant what he said.
His grin widens. “Doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
“What is all this, Frederick? Why go through all this just to get me?”
His smile drops. “You Montgomerys are all the same. Always with an overinflated self-worth. This has been years in the making.” He throws out his arms and glances around him like I should be impressed by the large empty space.
“And finally we’ve done what we’ve needed, and you’re here.
I’ll admit, a little messier than usual, but still…
” He leans in, his eyes gleaming. “We’re about to finish the job. ”
We.
The word slams into me and I resist the urge to look around.
“Who is we , Frederick?”
He doesn’t answer. But he doesn’t need to.
There’s a slow, measured click of shoes on gravel behind him, and then she appears, and all of the air leaves my lungs like she’s personally reached into my chest and ripped it out.
“Ma,” I croak out.
She smiles. “Hey, Ry.”
Anger, blinding and fast, rushes through me. “Do not call me that.”
She smiles, coming to a stop next to Frederick, her eyes wild and her skin sallow.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she says, like this is just a misunderstanding.
My eyes flicker behind me to Juliette. She’s not moving, and her face is too still. Her pallor too white.
“What did you do to her?” I grind out.
“No idea,” Frederick says, and my mother cackles.
He looks at her. “Did Beverly tell you what she was planning to use?”
My mother shrugs like the girl lying crumpled against the rock doesn’t matter.
And another knife stabs its way into my back. No, worse, into Juliette’s back.
“You drugged her,” I whisper.
Ma’s lips purse and she picks at her cuticles. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
I take a step forward, ignoring the way everything inside of me wants to reach out and throttle this woman who’s hurt me so badly while all I’ve ever wanted to do was be her son. “Tell me she’ll wake up.”
“She’ll be fine,” Frederick confirms. “Eventually. She’s just…resting.”
“Because you fucking drugged her!” I snap.
“Because we needed to ensure she’d cooperate,” he replies calmly.
My breathing is ragged as my eyes shoot wildly back to my mother. “Just how involved in this are you, Ma? Jesus.” My voice breaks. “Why would you do this?”
“Because he didn’t pick me,” she sneers. “Because no matter how many nights I gave him, no matter how many years I waited, I was never enough.”
I stare at her. At the hollow shell of the woman who raised me.
“I loved Marcus,” she whispers. “I thought if I stayed close—if I stayed loyal—he’d give me something back. But he just kept me in the dark. And then Eleanor died, and everything started to fall apart, and Freddy found me and promised it could be different.”
My throat burns.
“What’d he promise you?” I ask, then hold up a hand. “No, wait, let me guess. Drugs? Money?”
She doesn’t deny it.
“He made it easier,” she says. “And all I had to do was follow his rules. Get you desperate enough to go back home, while he convinced Marcus to let you back in. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, you know?
You were supposed to have a reason to come back, and then a reason to run away, leaving the money to us . ”
The words hit like a gunshot to my brain, filtering like sludge down through my body.
“What did you say?” I tilt my head, my body vibrating with untapped rage. “What did you just fucking say?” I step forward. “Repeat those words exactly to me.”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish.
“You said, ‘get me desperate.” I curl my hands into fists to stop the shaking. “Just how did you do that, Ma ? Did you…” I lick my lips, breathing deep. There’s no way. “Did you do something to Brooklynn to make me go running to my father?”
Guilt flashes through her eyes, and she gulps, staring down at the ground.
Oh my God. Nausea surges through me, my body revolting from the implication that she was messing with Brooklynn in order to get to me.
I bite down so hard on my tongue, I taste the blood, and I stem the burning in my eyes by pressing my palms into the sockets. “Did you know what was wrong with her?”
Frederick scoffs. “I’m done wasting this time. She knew. She poisoned her just the way I asked. Enough to get her sick and enough to keep you pathetic and desperate , just like she said.”
My eyes fly back up to my mom, the remnants of my heart breaking into a million pieces and lodging in my throat, my eyes, my fucking teeth.
“I should kill you,” I hiss at her.
She stumbles back like I’ve struck her. And I want to. I want to hit her. Want to wrap my hands around her neck and scream why while I watch her suffer the same way she’s made Brooke and me suffer.
Frederick steps in again, smoothing his suit like this is just business.
“Your mother’s choices are tragic, yes,” he says. “But let’s not forget who put the gun in her hand. Marcus. The Montgomery name. The town that rewards cruelty and punishes honesty.”
“And that’s what this is?” I snap. “You punishing the town?”
“No,” he says. “This is me cleansing it. Eleanor was my sister. And Marcus killed her.”
“You couldn’t save her, so now you’re what? Playing God?”
“I’m rewriting history ,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the gun from last night.
My blood runs cold, and I step to my right, trying to make sure I’m as far away from Juliette as possible while still shielding her.
It’s me he’s after. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill a Calloway child, would he ?
“Spare me the theatrics,” he snaps. “You’ve already lost.”
I shake my head. “I’m not my father. I don’t play your game.”
“You already did,” he says, smiling faintly. “The moment you showed up at that gallery in California. The moment Juliette smiled at you, and you smiled back. The second you called your father, and he asked you to come home.”
My chest heaves. The art show? I look at my mother.
Of course. It was her who got me that show. And hadn’t I thought it was strange Juliette was there, of all places?
Jesus Christ. Is anything about my life real?
Juliette stirs behind me with a soft groan. My breath stutters at the sound.
Frederick clocks it instantly. “Oh, she’s waking up? That’s inconvenient.”
He raises the gun.
My heart stops, and my vision goes red.
I lunge.
We hit the ground hard. My elbow connects with his ribs and the gun skitters across the dirt, landing just inches from the cliff’s edge. We both scramble, blood and dirt marring our skin, and I hear Juliette’s voice behind me, weak and disoriented.
“Roman?”
I grab the gun first.
And I don’t hesitate.
I aim it at Frederick’s head.
He freezes beneath me, chest rising and falling with short, shallow breaths. There’s a scratch down the side of his face and blood in the corner of his mouth.
My mother screams, but she doesn’t come to his aide. Instead, I hear her turn and run. I don’t look to see where she’s gone, all I know is that she’s not near Juliette, and she’s not next to me.
I don’t take my eyes off of Frederick.
My hand shakes as I press my finger to the trigger.
“You won’t shoot me,” he laughs, his hands raised in mock surrender.
Something catches my gaze behind him, and hope surges through me like a wildfire.
My arm hurts , bits of rock and twigs embedding themselves in the flesh, but I ignore it.
I flip the safety, the click loud in the air.
Frederick’s eyes widen, and then I lift the gun from where it’s aimed at him, and lay it in the outstretched hand of Lance.
I stumble back as soon as Lance takes my place, and I run over to Juliette, who’s barely conscious and still laid out on the ground.
“You’re really the biggest piece of shit, aren’t you, Freddy?” Lance says.
I expect him to raise the gun, and he does, but instead of shooting him, he pistol-whips him, and Frederick’s face flies to the side.
“You’re making a mistake,” Frederick spits. “We both know that if you kill me, there’s no escape for you.”
What is he talking about?
“You thought you could take my sister ?” Lance’s voice is a dangerous rumble, and I rip the rope from Juliette’s arms and drag her body into my lap just as he swings again, his fist meeting Frederick’s cheek.
I think I see a tooth fly from Frederick’s mouth, but I can’t be sure.
Lance immediately kicks him in the gut. Over and over, like he’s lost all reason.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? I will stay in those underground cages for the rest of my life before I’d ever let you touch her.” Lance aims the gun.
Underground cages?
“Lance,” Benny says, appearing from the trees.
Lance’s teeth grit. “ You shut the fuck up, Benny.”
Frederick laughs from the ground and then groans, curling in on himself. “He’ll kill you if you stay down there.”
Lance shrugs. “Then I guess I’ll see you in hell.”
He shoots.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The birds fly from the trees like they can sense the death in the air.
Benjamin rips the gun from Lance’s hand, wiping it down with his shirt and then pressing his own fingers to it tightly.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” Lance asks.
“It couldn’t be you,” he says, turning toward him. He looks like he might puke or pass out. “You know it couldn’t be you. She needs you.”
Lance nods, and then his eyes flicker over to us and widen when he realizes that Juliette is lying in my lap, breathing but still knocked out.
He walks over and looks at me with a grim expression. “Is she?—”
“She’s alive,” I cut him off. “But we need to get her to the hospital.”
He nods again and then meets my gaze. “Take her. And Roman, thank you. For loving her enough to save her.”