Chapter Thirteen
Romy
I didn’t sleep at all last night.
My mind flopped between being incredibly hurt and being completely pissed off. So when Eva texted me at the crack of dawn, even before my grumpy bedmate awoke, I was eager to have a reason to get out of bed.
She wanted to meet, which is why I’m standing on the curb of our hotel before sunrise, shuddering against the icy wind.
Slipping out of my room moments ago, undetected, was easy. Neither Caius nor Kaitlyn stirred. I was happy not to have run into Orion or Theo either. If I truly wanted to leave these people, I could.
Why don’t you?
Bitter loneliness claws at my heart. I have nowhere to go. I’m not going to stay with Eva, even though I love her, because I can’t stomach seeing my father again when not forced to. Going to my brother’s home is a joke. And college? I don’t even know if I have a room there anymore.
I could brave this world all by myself.
That simply hurts.
I’m not that strong. Full stop. At least at the dorms, I had a roommate.
A black SUV pulls up to the curb in front of me. The driver hops out and rounds the front of the vehicle. “Miss Langston?”
“That’s me,” I say, giving him an awkward wave.
He smiles warmly despite the early hour and opens the back door for me. Eva’s familiar perfume greets me.
“So happy you could meet with me,” Eva says, taking my hand and squeezing it when I sit beside her. “I know it’s early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I shrug as I buckle in. “I’m surprised Dad didn’t try to tag along.”
Eva glances toward the driver and purses her lips. I get the message. Whatever’s said will be reported back to Dad.
We chat about unimportant things as we head for the café. I haven’t been to the place since this past summer. They have the best orange scones.
The driver waits by the curb as we exit in a rush, hurrying to escape the chilly wind. Once inside, Eva waves me on to go grab a table while she heads for the register. I notice a couple of men finishing up, so I snag their table by the windows. A few minutes later, Eva arrives with a plate of orange scones and two steaming lattes.
She primly eats her scone while I inhale mine. It’s even better than I remember. I make a mental note to bring Kaitlyn here before we go back home.
I bristle at the thought of Canada being home.
Of Caius being home.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” Eva says after dabbing her lips with a napkin. “Your father was out of line.”
I nod, completely agreeing. “Did you know?”
“Unfortunately, no.” She sighs. “I only knew what he’d told me. That you’d previously been under psychiatric care for delusions and whatnot, but that therapy was helping. We didn’t exactly dig into the details.”
I can’t blame Eva. She came into the picture after Vivienne left. Dad likely withheld a lot of information from her. To him, she’s just a trophy, not a true partner.
“I’d suppressed those memories,” I tell her softly, dropping my gaze to my second half-eaten scone. “I’d recently come off my meds, so when I was in my room back at home, I remembered. It all flooded back…” I trail off, shivering. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”
Eva reaches across the table, clutching my forearm. “I hope you find a way to. You’ve already been through so much. Carrying that anger will only make things worse.”
For a split second, I wonder if Dad sent her to counsel me. Did he ask her to spike my latte with my meds? I eye the drink warily.
“And then Bastian upset me,” I say, purposely remaining vague. “Aside from seeing you, this has been a horrible visit.”
Eva frowns, nodding. “You adore your brother. I’m sure whatever it was, you’ll be able to get past it a lot more quickly than the thing with your father.”
Doubtful.
“Maybe,” I lie. I pick up my latte and give it a sniff. Nothing weird. I take a sip and then sigh happily. “Oh, I missed this.”
We both share pleased grins.
Sometimes I wonder what Eva would do if I called her Mom. She’s been the mother I never had. My own mother bailed on me. In fact, I don’t even remember what she looked like.
“The reason for us meeting,” Eva says as she opens her purse, “is I wanted to give you something.”
I expect a gift—makeup or jewelry or even money. Eva likes gifts. It’s not any of those things. She passes me what looks like a journal and a handful of pictures inside a gallon-sized freezer bag. I take it from her and frown in confusion.
“When I first moved in with you all, I discovered this in one of the guest rooms.” She waves her manicured hand at me, encouraging me to open it. “I showed Gid and he told me to toss it. Something kept me from obeying.”
I unzip the bag and pull out a picture. It’s me as a baby, golden hair glistening on top of my head. I’m wearing a toothless grin in the picture.
“Baby pictures?” I say, looking up at her, eyebrows pinching. “Uh, thanks.”
To be honest, I probably have most of these. Family picture albums existed in my home, but they were kept in closets. Dad never decorated with photos of his children like most families do. He did, however, take pictures of us.
“They’re um, of you and the nanny.” She grimaces at the last word. “I figured you’d want them. To dispose of or whatever.”
Apprehension floods through me, but I force myself to pluck out another picture from the bag. This one, I’m two, sitting in a highchair. Beside me is Bastian, holding a birthday cake and cheesing for the camera. Vivienne stands aside, watching us. Dad must be the photographer.
I try to remember my own mother and where she fit in on this timeline. When she left, did she leave the door open for the monster to come in?
“Ro-laaaaaa.”
I nearly drop the bag. The scones in my stomach roil. These pictures were not what I expected when I agreed to meet Eva for coffee.
Another picture is of me in Vivienne’s room, which is now a guest room, and she has bows in her hair. I must’ve been about four or five. I’m proud as punch to have done her hair up with all the bows. I wonder if it was Bastian or Dad who took the photo. I also wonder at what point did she go from my caring nanny who played with me to a monster who stalked me at night.
I can’t look at these anymore.
Shoving the pictures back into the bag, I let out a heavy sigh. “Thanks. I think.”
“I figured that journal of hers might shed light into your questions and murky past. I didn’t read it, but I did flip through it to see there are countless entries. If it makes you feel uncomfortable, dump it all in the trash on the way out. I just wanted you to have it, is all.”
My phone buzzes from my coat pocket. I pull it out and see Caius’s name on the screen. Decline.
He immediately calls back. I decline that call as well. After five separate calls where he’s declined, he finally stops calling. Then come the texts. The first one has me shoving my phone back into my coat pocket, ignoring him altogether.
Caius: Where the hell are you? Come back now.
Eva’s eyebrow lifts in question. “Your boyfriend looking for you?”
“Yup. I’m mad at him too.”
She chuckles. “I understand that, honey. Men can be difficult sometimes.”
Sometimes?
How about always?
“He’s so hot and cold,” I admit with a grumble. “Last night we got into an argument. Things got passionate and then he just…stopped. It was rude, and quite frankly, hurt my feelings.”
Okay, so it felt good to let that out.
I may not need Maura, but having someone who doesn’t bear the Crowne name to hear my woes is nice.
“Sounds like your father,” Eva says, frowning. “It doesn’t feel good to be on the receiving end when they turn cold.”
I swallow the ball of emotion that forms in my throat. Dad’s always been cold to me. Having Caius go back and forth is too confusing for my heart. It was easier when he was just cold. I could hate him like that.
It’s hard to truly hate him right now.
My phone continues to buzz. Maybe waking up without me will have him reconsidering how he treated me last night.
I get the sudden sense that I’m being watched. When I scan the café, no one stands out. Weird.
“Be patient with him,” Eva says to me in a gentle tone. “Beneath all that ice is a man worth loving. I know this because I’ve found the center of your father. I believe you will do the same with Caius.” She winks at me. “Besides, I saw the way he looks at you. I’d say he’s quite obsessed.”
I stifle a derisive snort. Obsessed with making sure his captive doesn’t go too far out of his sight.
“I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Want me to grab you anything on my way back?”
“More scones,” I say with a smile. “Put them in a box, though, so I don’t eat them all. I want Kaitlyn to try them.”
Eva leaves me and I polish off the rest of the plate of scones. I’m just cleaning off my sticky fingers when I feel a presence near me. I expect to see Eva, but a man stands far too close for my liking.
“Um, hi,” I rush out in a startled tone. “Can I help you?”
The man, probably late thirties or early forties, stares at me. No, he stares through me. As if I’m not even sitting here. To say he makes me uncomfortable is an understatement.
Maybe he’s looking for someone outside.
I note he has a tattoo peeking out above the collar of his coat. The muscle in the side of his neck flexes and relaxes over and over again.
“Sir?” I say a little louder this time. “Can I help you?”
His blue eyes lock on mine. Being snared in his gaze is unnerving. There’s just something…off…about this man. Like he’s on the cusp of snapping.
Then what?
I keep waiting for someone to intervene, but no one does. Eventually, Eva will exit the bathroom and will notice the strange man beside me.
The man fists his hands at his sides and his lip curls slightly up. That’s when I see it. Rage, fury, hate—it shines like the blazing sun in his stare. It’s terrifying. I try to avoid the news, but every day there’s some whacko who unleashes violence on women all over the world.
I should run.
His body tenses again, like he’s barely keeping from attacking me. Like the stupid prey I am, I sit frozen, too stunned to move.
And then he moves.
Well, someone moves him away from me with a hard check to his shoulder. Then a familiar cologne hits my nostrils. It’s a scent that minutes ago would have angered me, but right now, all I feel is overwhelming comfort.
Caius.
“Love,” Caius growls. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He strokes a hand over the top of my head as though to physically check for any ailments, then drops a kiss to my lips.
I hate how much my body responds to the sweetness of it all.
The creep from before remains nearby. Caius checks me over once more, then grabs the man by the lapels of his coat. I watch with my mouth open in shock as Caius drags him out of the café and out of view.
What the hell just happened?
Whatever it was, Caius just saved you.