30. Lucas
THIRTY
Lucas
We haven’t left our room for two days, and I’m getting a little worried. I’m trying to be patient, and it’s not like I don’t love being with Roman like this. I just hope that we’re not starting over.
To be fair, he hasn’t left the room either. I don’t even know who’s been leaving us food or what’s been happening except for the text updates we’ve gotten. Quinn is here and will fully recover, and things are “under control” with Anton’s death.
We’ve also learned that Anton’s bodyguard confessed to Anton having drugged Roman four years ago in order to sell him and make him disappear. He saw Roman and Vitali together as a threat and eliminated Roman to hamstring Vitali. Anton, apparently, couldn’t stomach killing Roman four years ago, but he decided that he had to now because he thought Roman was starting to remember the truth. Anton was the one who told a contact in the DiMaggio family where Roman and I were having dinner.
Anton was the reason Roman suffered so much for so many years.
Roman hasn’t wanted to talk about it, but as we lie in bed together, he says abruptly, “Your stepfather did the same thing to you.”
The pain of that knowledge washes through me, but it’s a mere fact and there’s a larger truth that matters more. “It turned out pretty good though.”
If not for my stepfather’s betrayal, I would never have met Roman. I would still be living in my shitty apartment and working my shitty job. I would still be lost and alone. I would still have no idea what love is.
Roman’s fingers trace my spine. “I’m still going to kill him.”
I fight the impulse to point out that that would require him to leave this room. I just say, “I know.”
Roman hears the unspoken part anyway. If you’re paying attention, you can hear a lot that isn’t put into words.
“I’m almost ready,” he says quietly.
I draw away enough to see his face. “I love you.”
He gazes back at me. “I love you too.”
I smile, enjoying the words whether I need them or not. Roman kisses me. His lips are firm, his kiss dominant. I open to it. I love it. My cock stiffens and so does his. Then he starts marking me, sucking at my neck to make his claim visible.
He rolls over top of me. We’ve had sex a lot, so I’m ready for him, already slick inside with his cum. He spreads my legs and enters me.
I still can’t believe how much I love having sex with him, how easy it is to let go. It feels so good to have him inside me. I love the way his cock fills me and moves in my body. I love the sounds he makes. I love when he fucks me in this position because I can watch him.
His body is so powerful and so damn beautiful. I know it’s still hard for him to look at himself, but I’ll look for us both until he can. His face is so handsome, his eyes intent. His abs flex as he drives into me. I can see his cock jutting hard from his body as he fucks me.
When I come, releasing all over my stomach, he thrusts deep and pumps into me, filling me so full that I spill over. He pulls me up, keeping his cock inside me as I settle atop him, leaking around his buried cock. He drops his forehead against my shoulder.
We just breathe for a while, both of us knowing that it’s time to break free of this self-imposed prison. Part of me will be sad to escape.
But it’s time.
After we shower and dress, Roman takes my hand and leads me out of the room. It’s morning, and I can hear people in the kitchen.
We arrive to find Quinn with his arm in a sling drinking coffee while Vitali stirs scrambled eggs and Sasha butters some toast.
I glance at Roman. This is a lot of people for our first venture out in two days.
“We can go back,” I whisper.
“No,” Roman says, squeezing my hand. “This is our family.”
Vitali doesn’t look up from his work, but I can see the smile that tugs at his lips. “The coffee’s fresh,” he says.
Roman goes to fill two mugs while I snatch a piece of toast from Sasha’s stack.
“Thieves lose fingers,” she warns.
“You’re using a butter knife,” I point out, trying not to show just how delighted I am that she’s teasing me.
“You haven’t seen the things I can do with a butter knife.”
I snort and grab another piece of toast for Roman. He’s watching our exchange, but he’s doing fine. He’s doing so well, really, that I can’t quite believe it.
I’m doing well too, I guess. I feel safe. I feel welcome . It makes my throat tighten so much that I have to turn away.
Roman comes to stand beside me, his body touching mine, until I’m able to breathe. I take the cup of coffee from him and hand him a piece of toast.
We go to sit at the table with Quinn, who looks kind of grumpy.
“Are you in pain?” I ask him.
“No,” he replies a little sharply. “I keep telling everyone—”
“That you’re fine,” Vitali finishes for him. “Yes, we know you think that.”
Quinn sighs.
I settle back in my chair as I take in the atmosphere of the kitchen. Four killers and me. What a weird and wonderful little family.
Sasha puts the stack of toast on the table then grabs a platter of bacon from the oven. As Vitali puts the skillet of eggs on the table, Roman says, “Vitali, I need your help.”
Vitali stills slightly, clearly surprised, but he says without hesitation, “Sure.” Then, “What for?”
“I need to take a trip to New York. I need to kill Lucas’s stepfather.”
Vitali pulls out his phone and seems to check his schedule. “I have time today.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Vitali asks, “Lucas, are you coming?”
My heart skips. I hadn’t considered that. I look at Roman. His expression is neutral. It’s up to me.
I want them to do this—I’m vengeful enough, it seems, to feel that Frank deserves it—but I realize that I don’t need to be there. That’s one advantage, I guess, of a family of killers. They’ll take care of this for me.
So I say, “No thanks. But I’ll have cookies ready when you get back.”