CHAPTER 22 ROMAN
ROMAN
Iswipe my hand across my face and groan.
Another week has passed and still we have learned nothing.
Four warehouses, all replicas of the same rot.
It’s like whoever owned them just copied and pasted it into another building.
The same layout, the same stains ground into the concrete, the same silence that clings long after we leave.
Whoever built them wanted repetition. Efficiency.
A system designed to erase people until all that remains is evidence too old to scream.
Every time we go, we catalogue, take pictures, and collect evidence.
Victor has been instrumental in making sure we do not cross-contaminate and Atlas has been running DNA samples.
Still, it is not enough. The victims are ghosts.
The warehouses are tombs. If I took this to my dad or the council, I fear nothing would be done.
It’s not that I don’t believe they’ll do something, it’s just that the evidence does not show that it’s connected to The Company at all. Right now, we can’t prove what Jack told us was true. They’ll say he was a dying man and put all the blame on him.
It’s destroying everyone around me. Atlas is still buried in code, chasing ghosts through servers that lead nowhere.
Victor’s tracking has gone cold, the connections for Robyn reduced to dead ends that refuse to bleed no matter how hard he pushes.
Felix cannot even look at Fae without crumbling with guilt.
Then there’s Riggs, who feels like a spare part, constantly arguing with us, desperate to go undercover with Dr. Fisher to earn his trust.
It’s not that I don’t believe in Riggs, it’s that I don’t know what Dr. Fisher is capable of. I think we’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his depravity. I’m not willing to sacrifice anyone, let alone a friend, to that man.
Then there is Fae, my sweet little Tinkerbell. She puts on a brave face, but the nightmares are getting worse and the week has hollowed her out. Her usually bright green eyes are dull, bruises blooming beneath them from lack of sleep. Her skin has lost its glow, like even her body is giving in.
I know better than to believe I can fix this, but it still stings. I deal in weapons and endings, in problems that can be dismantled with enough precision or force, but this isn’t that. This is something that follows her into the darkness, something I can’t hurt, interrogate, or kill.
The worst of it is knowing I’m here, close enough to taste her fear but too far away to stop it.
Fae whimpers next to me, her warm body going rigid and I curse myself for thinking about her nightmares. We have done this dance before, it is never easy. I glance at the clock. 1am. It is always 1am when this starts. I have wondered more times than I can count why that is.
My body reacts before my mind does as I turn towards her and pull her closer. My hand drifts to her face, pinched in pain even in her sleep. My heart stutters seeing her like this. Fae’s body curls in on itself as her breathing shifts into sharp, shallow gasps.
“Fae,” I murmur gently, not wanting to spook her even more. “Tinkerbell.”
Her brows draw tightly together as the whimpers break into a wail.
Uncurling, she kicks her left leg out and scrapes her heel against the mattress.
The small movements turn to thrashing as her arms flail and her breath tears out of her chest like she is drowning.
The sound is animalistic, like she’s crying in pain, as her fist connects with my shoulder, hard enough to sting.
I move over her, trying to cage her body, but her knee connects with my dick and I grit my teeth through it. Pain is easy for me. Pain is familiar. This is not.
“It’s okay,” I say, again and again, as I grab her wrists and restrain them above her head. If I were only worried about myself, I wouldn’t do this, but the thought of her bruising herself makes something in me turn feral.
“I’m here. You are safe. It’s just a dream,” I murmur, my voice soft enough not to jolt her but strong enough to anchor. “You are safe, Tink. I’ve got you.”
She doesn’t hear me, she never does, but the thought of lying next to her and doing nothing is not an option.
Her hands claw at the sheets under my restraint, her fingers curling like she’s trying to drag herself forward, away from something only she can see.
Panic runs through every line of her body, terror so deep it turns her into a weapon even when she’s unconscious.
Breathing heavily, I let go of her wrists and move one of her hands to my chest so she can feel my heart beating.
“Here,” I say louder to be heard over her cries. “Feel that. You are here, Tink. You are with me.”
Her now free hand strikes me hard against the collarbone and I groan.
Jesus, she is strong. Fae’s breathing stutters, then breaks as a sob rips out of her throat and she arches up from the mattress, sweat slicking her skin.
I can feel the heat of her even through the thin fabric of my top that separates us.
Her brown hair sticks to her temples, damp and tangled with sweat.
Her mouth moves around words she cannot quite form.
“Please,” she gasps, still asleep. “Please…”
I growl, my anger like something alive trying to break free.
I swear to God, Dr. Fisher and whoever else did this to her are going to pay.
I don’t even want to kill them; I want to keep them in one of the warehouses for years until they are nothing but a broken shell.
Sliding my arm under her body, I pull her tight against my chest. My free hand cradles the back of her head, my fingers threading through her hair, trying to ground her.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur into her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of vanilla and honey to stay focused. “I will not let anything touch you. You are safe. You are with me.”
She bucks against my hold, sharp and desperate.
Her nails dig into my forearm and draw blood.
I don’t flinch. I tighten my hold just enough to ground her without trapping her and rock her slowly until her breathing starts to change.
It’s still fast, but less fractured, and the sobs turn into sharp inhales and shattering exhales.
Her forehead presses into my collarbone as her body goes slack all at once, like the cord has been cut. The fight drains out of her in a single trembling wave, leaving only exhaustion behind. She makes one final, broken sound, then clings to me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.
I hold her until my arms go numb. Until the tremors fade into nothing more than the soft rise and fall of her sleep.
But even when she settles, when her weight fully melts into mine, I stay rigid. It is the same pattern as the night before. I count her breaths, watch her body twitch, and wait to see if the monsters come back to haunt her.
When the sun finally peeks through the curtains, I untangle myself from her and get up for the day.
Padding into her kitchen, I turn the coffee machine on as I brace myself against the countertop.
I still haven’t told her about initiation.
We have two days until life as we know it implodes.
I’m not sure what sort of song and dance my dad wants to put me through, but I’m worried I won’t spend as much time with Fae as I should.
There is no way in hell I’m not spending every night with her, though. If Dad wants me to play this game, I’ll play it, but I will not jeopardise her health.
The kettle clicks off behind me. Such a small noise seems so sharp in the silence. Chucking a teabag into Fae’s favourite cup, I pour the hot water over it and let it brew. My phone buzzes on the countertop and I sigh as I look down.
“Yeah?” I ask.
The best thing about Felix is there is no stupid fanfare when he talks to me.
The rest of the world believes in pleasantries and social norms. I would rather just get a conversation done and over with.
Tell me what you want and tell me quickly.
Time is too precious to waste on how the weather looks.
“How is she?” It’s his daily routine since the first warehouse. I’m not sure if it’s a twin thing or a Felix thing, but he always seems to know when she is at her worst. I glance towards the hallway, listening for movement that doesn’t come.
“She’s breathing,” I mutter, “which is probably a miracle in and of itself.”
He exhales so slowly I can picture it. I imagine his jaw bulging as he grits his teeth, his knuckles white as he flexes his hands.
He is probably doing that annoying thing with his teeth, grinding them together until it sounds like chalk on a blackboard.
I screw my nose up and shiver at the thought, forcing myself back to the conversation.
“Roman, I—”
“She’s struggling,” I interrupt, “you know it, I know it, hell she knows it but won’t admit it. The nightmares are getting worse. They are following her when she is awake.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I sigh, “she is not eating properly; she is not sleeping properly; she is holding it together because that is who she is, but it’s costing her.”
“Fuck,” Felix mutters, so quietly I don’t think I was meant to hear. He groans, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Then figure it out. I can’t hold your hand through this, Felix and you know it.”
“I know,” he scoffs as I pick up my cup and pour the coffee into it, watching it bloom against the porcelain.
“You need to step up,” I say, walking over to the fridge and getting the milk out. “Soon it’s going to be a shit show with initiation and she won’t ask for help. She never does. But she needs you, not as backup, as her brother.”
“I should have been there,” he chokes out and my teeth grind at the self-sacrificing bullshit of this group.
“You are now,” I snap, “that’s the only part that matters. Get your fucking head out your arse, Felix.”
“Augh,” he groans, “I know, okay, I know. Jesus Christ, I knew you dating her would be a fucking nightmare.”
I pause, waiting this out. I am so over this conversation; he usually doesn’t make me say this many words and it is irritating me. I have no grace to be irritated right now; Fae needs me at my best and that is what she will get.
“Thank you, Roman, for being there for her.” He finally says and I scoff.
“Don’t thank me for loving your sister, Felix, it’s weird.”
“What, wait, you love her?”
“No, I just tolerated living with you for three years because it was fun. Of course I love her.” I snap again, then count to ten to get my anger under control as Felix chuckles down the phone.
“I don’t think that equals love, you know that, right?”
“Of course it does. My mum told me that love was sacrifice and hanging around you is sacrificing things, Felix. Something I would not tolerate if it were not for her.”
His booming laughter echoes through the phone and I have to pull it away from my ear. The problem with these guys is they genuinely believe that I am lying, or that I am a comedian, and I am not sure which is worse.
“Does she know?” he splutters out after he calms down.
“Does she know what?” I sigh.
“That you love her…”
I pause at that. Does she? I don’t think I have told her those words, but does she need them? I mean, I am with her all the time and I make it clear that there is nobody else for me. She knows how The Company works; she knows that when you choose someone, you choose them forever.
I sigh and rub a hand down my face, deciding I will speak to my mum about this later. Human emotions and I have never mixed, but I will do anything to make sure Fae chooses me as much as I choose her.
“Anyway, is that all? I need to make her breakfast, otherwise she won’t eat.” I sidestep his question.
“No,” he responds. The shift in his tone is immediate. His voice goes lighter in a careless way that I know is not real. “I was at the church last night and realised it needed some maintenance.”
My fingers tighten around the mug as I take a sip of my coffee.
“It is not a one-man job, you see; I am wondering whether you could help?” Felix continues.
“Hmm,” I muse, “how many people need to be there for that?”
“All of us. Fae can make the drinks, I know she does not like to use power tools.”
“I can get Fae and me there in two hours.”
“That works.”
The line goes dead. I set my mug down, pick up Fae’s, and turn towards the hallway to wake her. Whatever Felix has found better be good. We have spent too many days chasing our tails and I am praying that once our living nightmare ends, Fae’s nightmares do too.