15. Roman #2
“I will kill them,” I tell him in a low voice.
“For making you scared. Do you understand the words I say, beauty? There’s no fucking way that he should be able to know that you were even staying in Onyx House, let alone sleeping in my bed.
Your initials, on my pillowcase. And that disgusting fucking picture of his ugly cock, included for shock value. ”
I get my phone and text Maks.
Roman
Any updates on what we talked about yesterday?
Maks Petrov
Not yet. Yegor gave me trouble last night, and I have been cleaning up his mess all day today. I will research the Farina boy now.
We need anything we can get. What the hell did Yegor do?
On a war path for more Maletti grunts. I stopped him from bringing explosives to a man’s house last night.
Fuck. I didn’t know.
Are you ok?
No. There is a problem here.
Do you need my help?
I chew on the inside of my cheek.
I have very, very rarely asked any of my cousins to come directly to Onyx House before. I took Kuzma to a party once, and only bad things happened.
I like to keep my two lives separate.
Entirely so.
But tonight, I’m not sure that I can.
Yes. Find what you can about the Farina boy, then get here. As quickly as you can.
“Everything okay?” Tate asks me as I pocket my phone.
“Stay behind me at every moment,” I tell him. “Do you understand me?”
“I understand.”
“Don’t fucking say a word.”
“I won’t.”
I pause near the doorway of my room, already scanning the hallway for anything out of place before we step out.
I reach backward to squeeze Tate’s hand in mine for a moment, and he’s still shaking when I have to let it go.
I move quietly.
I know the places to step so the floorboards don’t creak. The rain is still falling in a steady patter outside, and I’ve never been more glad for it.
Most of the guys are still out at the fall festival.
Weston and Sevan were down in the front room when we walked in, and I saw Rayne in the kitchen, but Onyx House is unusually quiet this evening.
I push open door after door with the tip of my gun.
I check every bedroom, and when I push open the door near the end of the hall, Hunter is inside, reading a book on his bed.
He frowns as he looks up to see me with the gun in my hands.
“What’s going on?” Hunter asks calmly.
Hunter is no stranger to violence. He isn’t easily scared or easily intimidated, and after everything Onyx House has been through over the past year, he doesn’t even flinch when he sees the pistol.
“Hunter, have you seen anyone you don’t recognize in the house tonight?” I ask.
“Not at all. It’s been very chill, all night,” he says, putting his book down and standing up. “Where is Rayne? Is everything okay?”
“I saw Rayne in the kitchen,” Tate says. “He’s good.”
I explain the basic details to Hunter, and show him the letter and the photo.
Hunter looks confused. “Why would someone put it on your pillow?”
“Tate has been sleeping in my bed. It’s a precaution we needed to take,” I tell him.
I’d been trying to keep it a complete secret that Tate was sleeping in my bed instead of in his own room, but right now I didn’t hesitate for a second to tell Hunter the truth.
Hunter glances between the two of us, but then just nods his head. “Let’s go downstairs. Now.”
Hunter reaches into a black wooden chest at the end of his bed and pulls out a thin, shiny knife.
“How many of you keep fucking weapons in your rooms like this?” Tate suddenly blurts out. “Are you Bratva too, Hunter?”
“I am not. Ask me about my past another time, and I’ll tell you everything,” he says.
Tate follows behind the two of us as we check the remaining rooms upstairs and then head down. Weston and Sev are watching a movie, and we find Rayne in the kitchen, finishing making a smoothie.
“Hunter,” he says, looking concerned as he glances up at us. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, baby,” Hunter says, squeezing Rayne’s arm. “Have you seen anyone in the house tonight who doesn’t belong here?”
“There’s barely anyone here,” Rayne says. “Well, there was a guy who came to the door and said he had a note for Roman. Told me to just leave it in his room for him, so I put it on his bed. Is everything good?”
“Where did the person go?” I demand immediately.
“The guy at the door? He just gave me the note and left. It wasn’t anyone bad. Looked like a nerdy freshman, or something. Didn’t seem like a problem, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You saw him walk away? Down Red Row?” I ask.
“Yes. He left. One hundred percent.”
“We need to check the camera footage, right now.”
“What happened?” Rayne says.
“Tate isn’t safe,” Hunter explains.
Rayne frowns. “But I thought that note was for Roman.”
I glance at Tate and my heart freezes.
He’s standing there, looking down at the knife I gave him with a thousand-yard stare.
“Nyet,” I whisper, moving to take the knife from his hands and toss it over onto the coffee table. It clatters as I pull Tate into a close hug, gripping the back of his head tight in my hand. “Just breathe, beauty. Breathe for me.”
When I feel his hand shake, the rest of the world disappears.
I tilt Tate’s head back and lean in to kiss his cheek. Two kisses on one side, then two on the other. He sighs against me, and I lean my forehead on his, then press my lips against his.
I’m dimly aware of the fact that Rayne and Hunter are standing right there.
But it doesn’t make a shred of difference to me right now.
“I’m tired of causing problems,” Tate whispers. “For everyone around me.”
“You are not trouble. You are… you are joy, Tate.”
He puffs out a soft laugh as I lean back, still holding him in my arms.
“Thank you.”
Someone like me can never be redeemed, and the best bet I have is just to try protecting the people around me who truly are good people. I need to make sure Tate gets to enjoy his life, exactly as he deserves.
When I pull away from him, Rayne and Hunter are leaning on the wall, and Rayne reaches out to pull me into a quick hug, too.
If they are shocked to see what they just saw, they don’t show it.
And all I feel is proud.
“We’re going to find this guy,” Hunter tells Tate. “You’re no burden, Tate. I live for this shit, and nobody is going to fuck with a single soul in this house.”
“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing the knife off of the table and gently giving it to Tate again. “We need the footage. Now.”