Chapter 23 Julianna
TWENTY-THREE
JULIANNA
I toss the sheet back and scoot over to give Rome enough room to climb into bed with me.
His throat bobs as he swallows, and without a word, he places the pistol on the nightstand and crawls into the bed.
My heart is pounding, and this sudden thrill rushes through my veins. I feel the same I did when we used to meet in secret all those years ago.
Laying down, he turns on his side to face me, tucking his hand under his pillow. We stare at one another for a few heartbeats. There’s a small tilt to his mouth as his eyes roam over my face, making my mind flood with memories.
Stolen kisses, gut-wrenching laughter, earth-shattering orgasms. I remember it all.
I’m overwhelmed by the memories, so I decide to turn over. Maybe if I stare at the wall long enough, all of this between us will start to make sense.
“Lark…”
I reach behind me for his hand, and scoot back until my back hits his chest, and his hand is spread over my stomach. It used to be the only way either of us were able to fall asleep when we stayed here years ago.
We lie in silence now, but I’m hyperaware of how close he is, that this is the first time we’ve been in bed together since before our entire world fell apart.
I close my eyes and listen to our synchronized breaths until…
“My dad is in prison because of me.”
His confession has my eyes snapping open. “What?” I rasp. “What do you mean?”
“I was the one who turned him in.”
“Rome.” My voice cracks as fresh tears spring to my eyes. “I—”
I try to turn around and face him but stop when he holds me close, pressing his fingers firmly against me. He’s using me as an anchor, and I let him.
“I need to get this out, Lark,” he whispers into my hair, breathing me in. “Please.”
In the kitchen earlier, I called Rome out for being a hypocrite. He kept me in the dark about his life just as much as I have with him, and here he is, proving to me he isn’t the same man he was ten years ago.
“Okay,” I whisper back, preparing for what he’s about to share.
“It had been three days since we agreed to separate,” he begins, his voice cracking.
“I’d spent the night getting drunk and high, convinced I’d lost you forever, even though we agreed to stay married.
Realizing that our marriage barely had a chance to survive.
I thought about our daughter and how I’d never get to hold her again.
Those thoughts only fueled my need to disappear into oblivion.
I’d been in the main house when I ventured out to the pool house, looking for the stash of cocaine I knew my father hid behind a painting in the wall.
That’s when I found her…” He trails off, and my heart shatters imagining what it must have been like to see his mother in that state.
My pillow and face are quickly soaked with tears.
“She was lying on top of the pool table, with her arms spread and her legs hanging over the edge. Her skirt was pulled up over her hips, her shirt torn straight down the middle of her chest. I can still hear the blood dripping off the sides of the pool table, onto the floor. I can still see her pale skin. I’d never seen her eyes so empty and void of… life.”
I squeeze Rome’s hand. He’s reciting it as if he’s been reliving it every day since.
I’d never been fortunate enough to officially meet with Elena Montgomery, considering she hated me by sheer name only, but I always knew from the way Rome talked about her that she was loving and kind in her own way. Despite her stern exterior, she was a mother who loved her son.
“When I realized there was no saving her, that she’d been there for several hours, I raced out of the house to find my father.
He was in his study, casually puffing a cigar.
I told him what happened, and he called the police.
I don’t think I’d ever seen him so calm, especially after telling him something so devastating.
” He blows out a weighted breath. “After the paramedics took her and the police left, I realized how strange he’d been acting.
I was heading for bed when I overheard him talking to his men, congratulating them on getting the job done successfully.
He was proud of them for carrying out his revenge on her for what he felt was betrayal.
” His voice is laced with bitterness and anger.
“I turned right around and headed straight for the police station to turn him in.”
Silent tears stream down my face as I choke back a sob. I sniff and manage to say, “I didn’t know, Rome. I’m so sorry.”
I’d completely cut off Rome in the initial days and weeks after our separation. Guilt eats away at me for not checking in with him after I heard the news of his mother’s murder. He lost a child, his wife, then his mother, all in one week.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, hoping he knows how much I mean it.
“I asked the police to keep me anonymous,” he continues, still caught in the memory.
“I didn’t want to testify at trial, but they didn’t need me to.
They’d discovered enough evidence to convict.
Sperm containing seven DNA profiles were found on her, all tracing back to men who worked for our family.
Even then, though, my father’s suspicion never waned.
He always suspected it was me who’d turned him in, and he was right.
I wanted to leave that world, and he knew it.
In the months after, I had this feeling I was being tracked.
You don’t take down the head of the Italian mafia without reaping the consequences.
I didn’t know what to do. So, when he approached me with an offer, I couldn’t refuse. ”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Who? What offer?”
I feel him swallow thickly behind me, his arm tightening around my waist. “Rhys O’Connell approached me and offered me a deal in exchange for protection.”
He doesn’t elaborate on who Rhys is. He doesn’t need to. I already know.
Rhys O’Connell, head of the Irish mafia. The one London’s ex-husband got tangled up with last year and faked his own death to hide from. Rome Montgomery not only betrayed his family in his father’s eyes by turning him in, but he’s also been working with the Irish for years.
“What was the deal?”
“He’d protect me for a number of years in exchange for using my businesses to conduct his business.”
A sharp gasp rushes past my lips.
“I was on my last deal with Rhys when the man he was selling to turned out to be a fraud. He pretended to be Irish before he shot Rhys’s second, Tobias, then attacked me.
I caught sight of his snake tattoo as he was choking me.
That’s when I knew he must be working for my dad.
I sent Marcus to talk with the detective who handled his case to see if they’re connected. ”
“Shit.”
“I should have told you it was me who turned my father in.” Rome’s voice is tight, pained. “That I was working with Rhys for protection, and that my father is the one behind the people after us. I’m so sorry, Lark.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. We’ve cut each other off for so long, both sitting in our grief.”
I feel him nod behind me and bring his face closer to my hair, breathing me in. “I guess I was afraid to tell you because I swore to you I was finished with that life. I wanted to put it behind me but failed when I didn’t hesitate in accepting Rhys’s offer.”
“You were doing what it took to survive.”
“Yes, I have. But there have been so many opportunities to tell you since.” His voice is full of pity and regret.
“I betrayed my family, and now you’re paying the price.
You were right for calling me out. I haven’t been very honest with you, and you have every right not to trust me because of it.
I have no business demanding the same of you. ”
I close my eyes and feel the weight of what Rome’s been willing to reveal to me over these past eleven days.
He’s slept outside my bedroom every night.
He’s taken me out for target practice just to make sure I still know how to shoot.
He’s confessed who is after us and why. He’s kissed me and touched me.
He’s brought me back to life, dragging me out of the graveyard I’ve been sleeping in ever since we lost our daughter. He’s pulled me out of the darkness.
He may have lied to me to get me here, but it was all to protect me.
“I’m… “ I start, my heart begging me to get this off my chest, the same way he has. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do.” I clear my throat.
“I should be the one apologizing. I’m the one who lied and said I didn’t want to talk when that’s all I’ve ever wanted. No, shit. I’m lying again. That isn’t all I’ve wanted.”
His voice has changed, now deeper and lower, like velvet slipping over my skin. He brushes my hair aside and presses his lips to the back of my neck.
I sink into the feeling it gives me. I imagine the way his blue eyes looked at me through the gaps in the library bookshelves. The way he kissed me in Sola’s bathroom, trying everything not to let me leave.
“What do you want?” My voice is barely a whisper, followed by a small moan.
“My wife.”
I force my heart to calm down. With Rome, I’m quick to give myself away.
I tear down every barrier standing between us without abandon.
But there’s been a shift between us. I keep waiting for Rome to change his mind or go back to tossing out petty insults my way, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he’s helping me cook mac and cheese and sleeping outside my door every night.
Now he’s sharing the secrets he’s kept locked inside his dark heart for years.
“I guess you can call me a liar, too,” I admit. “Because I don’t hate you, Rome.”
His hand slides over my stomach. He dips his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. Heat spreads down my arms and legs. There he is, lighting me up again.