41. Roman
ROMAN
Brooklynn:
I signed the thing.
R elief hits me sharp and hard at Brooklynn’s acknowledgment that she signed the trust. That means I don’t have to worry. No matter what happens with me, she’s taken care of. It’s legally binding, and she has full access immediately to all the funds.
Me:
Fuck, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. Thank you.
My thumb hovers over the screen.
Brooklynn:
Do you know how Mom is, by the way?
The shift is subtle, but I feel the low hum of dread in my chest. The way it always is whenever my mother is brought up.
Me:
We can’t call her for another two weeks. When she comes out of isolation, we’ll plan a visit, if you want? I’ll fly in. How are you feeling?
Brooklynn:
Okay. I feel great, actually. The past few weeks, I’ve had more energy and haven’t had a bedridden day. I don’t know what’s changed, but I’m grateful for it.
Me:
Hope it lasts.
I let the words settle, rereading them once. And then again. My chest loosens just a little.
“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Merrick asks, sipping on a green bottle of beer, his eyes intense as they watch me from across our booth at the Round Table.
I give a grin back, not wanting to talk about it.
“Hello, Earth to Roman.” Merrick laughs, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “You keep zoning out mid-brood and I’ll have to start praying for divine intervention.”
“Someone must be more important,” Rosalie says as she sets down a fresh drink in front of Merrick with a smirk.
I glance down at my phone, my fingers gripping it so tightly my knuckles ache.
I texted Juliette.
Again.
But she hasn’t replied.
Ever since I cornered her in the bathroom the other night, she’s gone radio silent. It’s driving me fucking crazy, wondering if she’s done with me now.
She wouldn’t.
At least, I don’t think.
I deserve her silence.
The art’s causing a bit more fallout than I expected. Or maybe it’s going exactly as planned, and I just have my heart in the mix now, so it feels messier.
I’m starting to feel like my dad didn’t tell me huge portions of the situation on purpose, like I’m painting blind and hoping for the best. And that makes me question things. Makes me feel like I’m not helping to dismantle a machine, but acting like just another cog.
Still, Brooklynn is feeling healthy . Happy. She’s taken care of now, no matter what.
And my mom is getting help.
So, I’ll do what I need to do.
I slide my phone in my pocket and sip from my drink.
Benjamin’s late, not that I particularly miss his brand of company, and I’m about to ask where he is when he walks into the room from the back hallway, smirking at Genevieve behind the bar while Lance says something to her with a serious face.
There’s something happening there with Lance and her.
He lightly grips her arm and she snips something with a sharp look. He grins at whatever it is, and my brows shoot to my hairline.
I’ve never seen him smile before.
Art Penngrove walks out from the back hallway next, and when he moves toward them, Lance’s smile fades, and he drops Genevieve like she’s burned him and turns his back.
Benjamin claps Lance on the shoulder like they’re friends and laughs before making his way over to us.
My gaze stays on Juliette’s brother, anger resonating deep, because why is it fine for him to mix company but impossible for Juliette and me?
I know Benjamin doesn’t have the last name “Montgomery,” but he’s still on our side of things.
“There’s the man of the hour. Where you been?” Merrick’s loud enough to draw a few looks from nearby tables as Benjamin saunters over.
“What’s up, Benny?” I give him a chin nod.
His eyes narrow in response.
What the fuck did I do?
There’s a commotion at the front of our table, and then an older woman stands in front of us, a hat pulled low over her eyes like she’s trying not to be seen.
“Hello, gentlemen.”
“Hey, lady. You’re blocking the view of the match.” Merrick gestures to the UFC fight on the TV behind her.
She turns to look at the fighting and then back at Merrick. “What kind of a man are you? Barbaric, those fights. Disgusting.”
Merrick laughs. “You’re in the wrong place to be saying something like that.”
That piques my interest. What’s so wrong about saying that in a dusty bar that serves generic food and beer?
“Besides, I’m just a man like any other,” Merrick continues. “Just like the men in the fight. God made them, and he gave them the free will to ruin themselves if they want to.”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry about him, ma’am. He’s always talking nonsense; nobody understands what he means half the time.”
“He’s not lying, though, is he?” Her eyes lock onto mine, a knowing look in their gaze. “We all have the free will to ruin ourselves…and sometimes others.”
Nodding, my brows furrow, a heavy sensation hitting me with the seriousness of her gaze. “I guess you’re right.”
“Roman Montgomery?” she asks, her entire focus now on me.
I sit forward. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“I need to speak to you.” Her eyes flick over the other men at the table. “In private.”
Benjamin snorts and taps Merrick on the arm. “She’s either here to confess her sins or beg for a good time.”
“Oh, she’s not here to beg.” Merrick laughs. “And definitely not for him. No offense, honey, but Roman’s not really known to go for the women who remember dial-up.” He pauses, giving her a saucy look. “Me, on the other hand…”
Benjamin scoffs. “Jesus, Merrick, you’d flirt with a ghost if it had legs and liquor, wouldn’t you?”
“And you wouldn’t?” he fires back, grinning. “You’ve got that graveyard type of energy all over you.”
“Merrick, you may know Benny, but you have no idea what I’d go for,” I interrupt, then glance back at her. “What’s your name?”
The woman glares at Merrick before looking at me with her chin raised. “I won’t talk in front of rude men who think they can speak to me like I’m beneath them.”
“He’s harmless,” I reiterate. “Just loves the sound of his own voice.”
“In private.” Her jaw clenches, and she lowers her voice. “I believe you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Benjamin’s eyes narrow, recognition flaring through them. “Wait a minute; you look familiar. You a friend of Freddy’s?”
She stiffens her spine. “I am, but I work for the Calloways, actually.”
My head snaps to her, seeing her in a new light. “You work for the Calloways?”
“Roman, come on.” Benjamin laughs like I’m being ridiculous. “You’re not seriously going to talk to her in private, are you?”
I cut a glare at him. “Don’t think because you’re my father’s bitch that I’ll be yours, Benny.”
Standing up, I jerk my chin at the woman, and she follows.
Merrick laughs, lifting his bottle and calling out, “Let me know how the old hag is, sweetheart! Maybe I’ll take her for a ride!”
“Ignore them,” I mutter, moving between the tables until we hit that back hallway I found Juliette in not too long ago.
Spinning around, I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “All right, let’s try this again. What’s your name?”
She looks behind her before finding me again. “Beverly. I’m here to give you a message.”
My eyes flare, and I straighten. Worry for Juliette bubbles inside me. “What’s the message?”
She eyes me. “I’m not sure if I should give it to you or not.”
“Then you’re wasting my time.”
“The opposite. I care about Juliette, love her, even, and if you’re just messing around to get in her head, just to leave her in it alone, then I need you to know something.
” She leans in. “I might not be strong enough to hurt you, but I know people who can. And I’ll make sure you’re hurting for the rest of your life. ”
My lips quirk, warmth filling up my chest. I worried that maybe Juliette didn’t have anyone in her corner, not truly, anyway, and knowing that at least there’s one person there with her beyond her family who she can trust makes me happy.
“I’m not playing games,” I say. “I promise you that.”
Her gaze softens. “She deserves someone who’ll fight for her. Even if it’s messy. Even if it seems impossible.”
Impossible is the right word for it, unfortunately.
“She needs to see you,” Beverly says.
My heart trips over itself. “Why didn’t she just text me?”
Beverly cuts me a look. “She didn’t suggest it, I’m just saying I can help make it happen.”
I swallow harshly, my hands going in my pockets as I nod. She’s brutal. Is this where Juliette learned it from?
“Did you truly save her life?”
“Kind of.” Memories of a simpler time, when I was just a silly guy with bad ideas and flirty lines. Before I became the thing she isn’t supposed to want. “Do you think she can meet me there tonight? Where I saved her?”
She blows out a breath and then nods. “I’ll make sure of it. But Roman, don’t just show up for her, and think she should continue to wait for you in the dark.”
I frown.
“If you want her, really want her, then you must take her. Choose her. Don’t look back. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
The silence is thick.
“I thought you worked for the Calloways,” I reply eventually.
“I do,” she confirms. “But that house will be the death of her. And I’ll do anything to get her out.”
My chest pulls tight, and I watch her closely.
Frederick’s words flow through my mind, the same as they have ever since he said them.
Sometimes the only way to protect something as precious as love…is to take it far from where anyone can reach it.