35. Epilogue #2
Roman taps on my cheek, forcing me to open my eyes. “I’m here, Lance. I’ve got you, okay? Nothing is going to happen. I’ve got this place locked down.”
I nod my head to agree, because I know that.
I know that Roman sees everything that’s happening here.
I know that he’s going to handle whatever is going on as soon as we sober up.
But… I thought we were safe here. I thought I was safe, and Gatlin, and Blaine, and Roman. I thought that this was our sanctuary.
I shake my head again. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.“ I chant as I try to push away from Roman.
“You can,” he whispers back. “Lance! Look at me!”
I refuse, trying to push off his chest again, but he grabs both sides of my face and yanks me forward.
His lips crash into mine… and the entire world goes blank.
The echoes, the thoughts, the panic, it’s all silenced.
Nothing else exists but this. But him. The man I’m irrevocably and undeniably in love with.
His tongue teases against my lips, and I open for him as I force myself closer to his chest. I grasp at him, tethering myself by clinging to his hips.
He pulls back just long enough for his warm breaths to fill my lungs.
His soft lips caress mine before his teeth gently pull at my bottom lip, begging me to come back to him.
He takes his time wrapping himself around every inch of my body.
Injecting himself into every molecule of my existence.
Without saying a word, Roman convinces me that it’s fine. That I’m fine.
That he’s got me. Always.
And God, do I believe him.
Roman
Every person we pass gawks as we walk by, but we both ignore them.
Lance has refused to leave my side for even a single second since that night in the stairwell.
Thanks to some ill-placed cameras, it took me a few days to narrow down who we even overheard.
Since we were half-lit and there’s no recordings, there isn’t much I can do right now.
I just have to wait for some kind of proof to bubble to the surface.
In the meantime, I refuse to worry Lance with the whom behind his anxiety because I fear that will only make things worse. I’ll figure out what’s going on and then I’ll fix it. Simple.
Lance tightens his fingers around mine as we push open the shop doors and make our way inside.
I’m glad to be out from under the scrutiny of everyone, but Lance refused to leave the apartment without being attached to me.
Us finally coming out as a couple was the only thing that made sense.
I’ll just be glad when something else interesting happens around here and people stop looking at us like we’re a two-headed dragon.
Lance pulls on my hand, slowing our footsteps. He tilts his head as he places a finger over his lips. He tiptoes to the corner, peering around it to eavesdrop. I quietly step up behind him, placing a hand on his hips as I watch over his head.
“What do you want me to say? That it’s a pleasure to see you again?” Wilder barks as he throws his hands up in exasperation.
“That you’ve randomly stumbled in the wrong door. Again. Or you’re here to suck my dick. Again. Either option would be acceptable. Preferable, even.“ Axel replies boredly as he wipes the grease from his hands on a rag.
“In your fucking dreams, Axel. If you think for a second that my knees would touch this filthy floor, you’re absolutely insane.”
“Is that your clinical diagnosis, or should I seek out a second opinion?” Axel retorts sarcastically as he shoves the rag in his back pocket. I almost snicker at how unruffled he is by Wilder.
“Oh, fuck right off. If you don’t hear a tree fall in the forest, that doesn’t mean that it never fell. Just because you don’t like the truth, that doesn’t mean you can take it upon yourself to decide that I’m no longer a doctor, jackass.”
“On the contrary,” Axel says as he turns around starts digging through his toolbox. “I can decide whatever I want. If I’m insane, as you just said, then I can believe whatever I want despite what reality indicates to be the truth. Right?”
“You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever fucking met. Will you just fix my damn chair? You’ve had the request for two weeks. I’d like to be able to see patients in my office again.”
“Hm,” Axel hums thoughtfully. “Maven said to prioritize request by importance until I’m caught up. As far as I can tell, this back-up generator for the refrigeration system is a little more important than your desk chair. You’re just gonna have to wait a while, little bit.”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Wilder seethes.
Axel tilts his head to the side as he stares at Wilder, an awkward silence settling between them before he finally starts talking again.
“There are days that I cannot find the sun even though its right outside my goddamn window.”
Wilder pauses before reply, completely ignoring what Axel said. “My damn chair, Axel.”
“They’re gonna spot us soon,” I whisper against Lance’s scalp. He turns to look up at me, before tightening his grip on my hand.
”I could always come by during my downtime,“ Axel says with drawn out words as he drops to his knees in front of the generator. “But… I would need some incentive for that.”
Wilder’s hands ball into fists at his side, and for the first time in my entire life, I witness Wilder at a loss for words.
He stands silently as Axel starts to work on the machine in front of them.
I’m certain that Wilder is about to combust on the spot before his hands finally relax and he brushes one of them through his hair.
“Fine,” he murmurs.
“What was that?” Axel asks as he cranks down on the ratchet in his hand.
“You win. Okay?” Wilder says with an edge of annoyance. “I’ll take the freaking chair to my apartment. You can fix it there and then we can decide what payment—”
Apparently, Lance has heard enough. He rushes forward, dragging me behind as he clears his throat to get their attention. Both of them snap their eyes to us and we’re all just standing there staring at one another like a bunch of deer caught in headlights.
Wilder turns toward us and points at our hands. “Are you— What is that?”
“I thought you had a doctorate in psychology or some shit. What the fuck does it look like?”
Axel chuckles causing Wilder to narrow his eyes at me with malice. He starts to walk toward us, not stopping as he passes by. “You know what? Fuck this. I’m done. I fucking quit.”
Lance watches as he retreats behind us, so I release him to walk the paperwork over to Axel. He stands up and takes it from me, spinning it around to read it before stepping over and tossing it on his toolbox.
“Don’t worry about that.” Axel says as he turns back around, eyeing the door Wilder just left through. “I’ll handle him.”
“Yeah… sure.” I reply with a sarcastic nod, before walking back toward Lance.
Handling Wilder would probably require a degree in psychology, zoology, and a fuck-ton of patience.
There isn’t anybody in this prison that can tame Wilder.
He’s been here just as long as I have and despite how little control he actually has, he acts like he rules the roost here.
He doesn’t answer to anyone, and if you ask me, it has been, and still is, a recipe for disaster.
“Well… that was weird.” Lance mutters under his breath as I guide him back toward the exit.
“Yeah. It was strange,” I agree as I hold the door open for him.
“They’re definitely fucking, aren’t they?” He asks as he peeks over at me.
“Oh, for sure.” I agree with a nod.
“Do you think that other people thought that about us when we would bicker with each other?” He asks as he takes my hand in his.
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. Probably. It doesn’t matter now, though.”
Lance abruptly stops walking, our hands nearly ripping apart as I jerk backwards. He stands with his mouth agape as he stares out the window before turning back to me. He points to the window accusingly, leaving a fingerprint on the clean glass.
“What is that, Roman?”
I step closer to him so that I can look outside, and he leans his weight into me.
“Ah, fuck.“ I reply as I roll my eyes. “You weren’t supposed to find out about that yet.”
“Is that what I think it is?” He asks as he looks up at me through his lashes.
I smirk at him. “Maybe.”
He grabs me by the hand and darts toward the exterior door.
He throws it open, the cool breeze off the ocean blasting around us as we shove out into the fresh air.
He jogs closer to the giant moat that snakes around the building and stares down into it like it’s holding some kind of secret passageway or something.
When his eyes meet mine, a childlike excitement taking over his entire face, I know that all those late nights working were worth this very moment.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“It’s a fucking lazy river, isn’t it?”
“I love you,” I say again with a smile.
He throws his arms around my neck and forcefully kisses my cheek repeatedly.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He mumbles over and over as his lips smush against my face.
He pulls back, his eyes locking with mine. “You are seriously the sweetest fucking person in the world, Roman.”
“Shhh,” I joke before leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Don’t worry,” he says as he takes my hand back in his and guides me toward the building. “This side of you is just for me. Actually…” He says with a pause. “No. You’re all mine. All of you belongs to me, Roman Easton.”
Damn right, pretty boy.