Chapter Twenty-Two
Josie
The drive from Rome’s house to work had become my favorite part of the day. Well, I also liked the ride home. And then there was after dinner when Rome showed me every inch of me that he missed.
I guess the whole day was my favorite part since Rome had walked into Scoop & Swirl.
The tattoo shop came into view, and then I looked over at Scoop & Swirl.
Then, my stomach dropped.
“No,” I whispered.
Rome looked over and I felt the anger radiate off of him.
The windows. Oh God. The windows.
White paint dripped down the glass, fresh, big, and sloppy.
FAT COW
Rome swerved the bike in front of the shop and killed the engine. “What the fuck,” he growled as he took off his helmet.
I stood in front of Scoop & Swirl staring at the words.
Fat Cow.
Like I didn’t know.
Like I hadn’t spent years pinching my stomach in dressing rooms.
Like I hadn’t listened to Bruce tell me maybe I should try salads.
Like I hadn’t spent most of my twenties apologizing for taking up space.
Rome came up beside me, the tension and quiet rage rolling off of him.
I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m so tired.” The words slipped out. Rome looked at me, but I couldn’t look back at him. “I’m just trying to move on.” I looked at the stupid words on my windows. “And somehow I’m still here.”
Rome shoved his hands into his pockets. Not because he was relaxed, but because I think he was trying really hard not to punch the glass. “I’m sorry.”
The words came out before I could stop them.
Rome snapped his head toward me. “For what?”
I shrugged.
He stared. Actually stared like he couldn’t understand what I was saying.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
His eyebrows lowered. “Deal with what?”
“My mess.”
Rome stepped in front of me and forced me to look at him. “This isn’t your mess.”
“It kind of is.”
“No.” He shook his head. Hard. “This is somebody being a fucking asshole.” His voice stayed calm which somehow made the words sharper. “You existing isn’t a crime.”
I looked away.
The windows blurred.
The paint blurred.
Everything blurred.
Rome gently grabbed my chin. “You have to apologize because somebody else is a piece of shit.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
Rome wiped it away immediately.
I laughed shakily. “You must be getting tired of this.”
His expression changed like I’d physically hurt him. “Never say that to me again.”
I blinked.
“I mean it.” His eyes locked on mine. “I will never get tired of you.”
My chest hurt because I believed him.
Mostly.
I wanted to believe him all the way.
Rome looked back at the windows and his face hardened. The quiet anger returning. He was thinking and planning. I could practically hear the gears turning.
I sighed. “I can handle it.”
“No.”
“I can.”
“No.”
I frowned.
He looked at me and I saw something dangerous. Not aimed at me. It was aimed at whoever did this. Whoever kept trying to hurt me.
Rome was done.
“I’m handling this.”
I crossed my arms. “Rome.”
He shook his head. “It’s not happening again.”
“You don’t know who did this.”
“I do. It’s your fuckstick ex, and I’m going to pay him a fucking visit.”
“You can’t know that.”
He stepped closer, and his voice dropped. “I can promise nobody’s gonna think they can fuck with you and walk away. Your ex is going to learn that lesson.”
I stared at him and for a second I almost felt bad for Bruce. Almost.