Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rosalie
Did you take something? I didn’t sign up to watch over a fucking addict, Rosalie.
I slam my notebook closed, anger boiling through my veins.
It’s been two days, and I haven’t stopped replaying Roman’s words in my head.
I’ve been stewing away, and I canceled tour rehearsals until next week because I can’t focus.
Leaving the hospital with strict instructions to take things easy and a new pod system that injects me with insulin when it senses my levels are low has been a lot.
I reach a hand up to my arm, making a rough sound as I stop myself from scratching at the pod site. It’s just so damn itchy.
I rub my hands over my face, dreading today. I’ve been ignoring the men lingering around my home, and they’ve steered clear of me. I didn’t make this a safe space for them, and they know that.
Does it stop them from leaving meals at my bedroom door or asking if I need anything? Nope. They’re still annoying and still there. Always there.
I have to face them eventually. There’s a charity gala tonight that I’m supposed to be a guest of honor at. Charity work is one of the things I enjoy, and I won’t let those assholes ruin tonight for me. But that means I need to find them something to wear.
That requires speaking to them—something that makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a pencil any time I think of it.
I try to psyche myself up by giving myself a mental pep talk.
It’s a little silly that I care so much that I have to prepare myself, but my confidence is shot down the moment someone barges into my recording studio.
I whip around to the door, surprised to see Maddox, of all people, standing there with his arms crossed and a stern expression on his perfect face.
No, not perfect.
Shut up, Rose.
“That’s enough of this,” He decides, all authority. “You’ve both been avoiding each other like the fucking plague, and I’m sick of it.”
Roman.
He’s been avoiding me? Oh, that’s rich. I thought they were giving me space. I scowl at the intruder. “I have every right to ignore his existence.”
Maddox nods. “You do, but he has something he needs to say to you. I’m tired of him making excuses as to why he can’t talk to you about this.”
“So, you’re going to force me to speak to him?” I question.
He shrugs. “It’s more so he can say what he has to say. Whether you forgive him or not is completely up to you.”
Hmm. That actually doesn’t sound so bad. Listening to Roman’s weak apology would feel pretty good after the years he spent tormenting me. I bet it would eat him alive to know I’m basking in his discomfort.
“Alright,” I stand from my chair, a smile touching my lips. “Lead the way.”
Maddox blinks, clearly thrown off by my easy acceptance. “Really? You’ll hear him out?”
He has no idea what I’m plotting, but by tonight, they’ll all wish they hadn’t fucked with me. “Yup. Let’s go.”
I follow him out to my living room, which looks like an intervention. Roman sits on the couch, standing quickly as I approach. Kairo is propped against the arm of the sofa, giving me a meek wave that’s out of character for his outgoing charm.
I feel like I just walked into the Twilight Zone.
“Umm,” Roman scratches at the back of his neck, and something flickers across his face.
It’s an emotion I’ve never seen on him—shame.
He takes a deep breath before those pale blue eyes shift to me, and I see the sincerity in them.
“I’m sorry for assuming the worst. I never should have accused you of being an addict.
I had no right to make that assumption, and I’m truly ashamed of myself for it. ”
I blink, shocked by the confession. I expected this to hurt him, and it does, but not in the way I hoped. He looks genuinely upset, but with himself.
Heat burns my neck at the realization that this is ten times better than shaming him. He’s actually sorry for what he did, and I can’t fault him for that. “It’s okay…”
He shakes his head. “It really isn’t. I hurt you enough, and I beat you while you were already down. The truth is…” He clears his throat, avoiding my eyes. “I was scared, Rosalie. I didn’t know what was happening, and it fucked with my head really bad. I don’t—can’t—see you like that again.”
I don’t know what to say. My mouth moves, but nothing comes out as I stare wide-eyed at the man who treated me horribly years ago.
He was scared?
But why…
“You don’t have to forgive me,” he says roughly before chuckling. “I wouldn’t. But just know, I feel horrible, and I will never make that mistake again. I promise you.”
I fold my arms over my abdomen, needing some kind of comfort as I process this.
Never in all of my life did I imagine Roman apologizing to me and meaning it.
It doesn’t erase the past, but it’s a step forward that I can’t ignore.
The little girl at my core, who still believes there’s good in people, heals a fraction.
“It really is okay, but if you do something like that again, I’m docking your pay.
” I crack a small smile at my joke, and it causes Roman’s shoulders to drop with relief.
He rubs a hand over his forehead, a sign that he was worried about my reaction. “Please do. I was out of line.”
“This is cute,” Kairo muses. “You guys should kiss it out.”
Everyone deadpans at him.
“What?!” The blonde throws his hands up. “It was just a suggestion. A hot one, but only an idea.”
The tension between us melts away, and I can finally breathe again. No, this doesn’t solve what happened long ago, but I have a plan for that.
“So,” Maddox drawls. “What’s the plan for today?”
I smirk evilly. “Shopping.”
“Ouch!” Kairo complains as the tailor pricks him again.
The older gentleman, who has spent his glory days making custom suits and is an expert at his craft, only scowls harder, his thick white brows drawing downward. “You’re worse than a child. Arms out before I stab you. Again.”
Kairo grumbles as he holds his arms out for the tailor to take his measurements.
This has been the highlight of my week. All three of my bodyguards are being fitted for their gala suits, and they’re hating it.
The tailor has already commented on Roman’s too-wide shoulders and Maddox’s shorter height.
He’s picking apart their insecurities, and I can’t help but smile at how they mope around like dejected kids.
“If you rip my fabric, I will hurt you, mammoth.” The tailor fusses at Roman, who’s standing in front of a body-length mirror as he attempts to fold the jacket lapels over his chest. It’s a tight fit, and his limbs look like they’re stuffed inside the sleeves.
He cuts the tailor a scowl in the mirror at his appointed nickname.
“Ms. Rose,” the tailor steps back and presents a few shirt options.
“What do you think? Personally, with all of the…” He glances distastefully at the tattoos inked onto Kairo’s head.
“Expression. We’ll call it that. But I think an all black attire will suit them better.
” He holds up a black dress shirt, and Kairo gives me a wink as my eyes roam over him.
Truthfully, I’m not worried about the clothes anymore.
Seeing them dressed up like this is making my brain hazy with something I’m not ready to admit.
There’s just something about seeing rugged and rough men wearing suits that does something primal to me.
Not that I would ever tell them that, but I’m pretty good at masking my desire as I nod in agreement.
“All black would suit them,” I decide.
“Undressing me with your eyes, Thorn?” Kairo drawls lazily.
The tailor sneers at him before going back to sewing. Meanwhile, my cheeks heat as I quickly look away from my bodyguard. I feel like I’m going to catch fire if I keep standing around.
Maddox walks up to me, a tie in his hands. “I don’t know how to put this on.”
I lift a brow. “You really don’t know how to tie it?”
He shakes his head as the tailor scoffs loudly, voicing his opinion. “Lost causes! All of them!”
I sigh. “I’ll handle it. Just pick out one that matches.”
“Do I have to wear a tie?” Kairo asks as he toys with his jacket. The tailor bats his hands away, making my bodyguard frown at him.
“Not if you don’t want to,” I shrug as I look through the selection of different colors. “It’s your wardrobe.”
“I worded that wrong,” Kairo shakes his head. “Do you want me to wear a tie?”
My head rears slightly just as I run my fingers over a grey tie that matches Kairo’s eyes perfectly. I think to tell him that I don’t care what he does, but this piece is too nice to pass up on. I hold it up to him, my eyes bouncing between his irises and the formal wear. “Actually, yes. This one.”
“Good choice, Ms. Rose.” The tailor smiles.
I glance over at Maddox, who is still perusing the options when I step in. “I’ll handle choosing. Go finish getting your measurements.”
He doesn’t question me as he joins Kairo and Roman. I let my eyes scan the cubby full of ties before I spot a perfect one that matches the same dark shade of Maddox’s eyes. The next is a pale blue one that’s Roman’s exact color, and I add it to the pile.
When I go to pay, Roman steps in front of me with his thick arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think so, Siren.”
I hold my Amex up. “Seriously? I have more money than I can handle.”
“And that’s your money. You pay us, Rosalie. We’ll take care of this.” He’s all brute intensity, and I have to admit, it amuses me as I shrug.
“Knock yourself out.”
He turns to the counter as an assistant rings everything up. Her eyes keep flicking up to me before she stops. “I’m sorry, but I’m a huge fan of yours. Can I get your autograph?”
“Sure,” I smile cordially as she slides a notepad and pen towards me. I sign my name and add a specialized note to it before sliding it back, and she stares at the autograph with wonder.
“Thank you so much! My daughter is going to love this.” She gushes as she finishes ringing up the price. “That’ll be thirty-seven thousand fifty-two—”
“God damn!” Kairo curses, his mouth gaping.
Roman’s eyes are comically large as he stares at the cashier. Maddox rolls his lips in, his brows lifting as if he’s never even seen that much money before.
“Yeah,” I muse cockily as I hand my Amex to the woman. “I’ll handle this.”
God, this feels good.
Maybe I am a little evil because this is so much fun.
My pod makes a low sound, and I feel the insulin being injected into my arm. Naturally, Roman notices right away.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, fear flickering across his face.
“I feel fine,” I shrug as they grab the clothes.
He hums in disapproval. “When was the last time you ate?”
My eyes could roll right out of the sockets if I’m not careful. “A little while ago.”
“Three hours,” Maddox snitches.
I narrow my eyes on him before sliding into the backseat of the SUV. Kairo takes the passenger side, turning to look at me over the console. “It’s three against one. Where would you like to stop, Thorn?”
“That’s unfair,” I remark as I cross my arms.
“No, it isn’t,” he smirks. “We’re buying lunch.”
I blow out a breath, not wanting to battle the string of fans that could potentially ambush me if I’m not careful. “Can we get takeout?”
“I’m down,” Kairo says.
“Sounds good to me,” Maddox shrugs.
Roman pulls away from the store before battling Los Angeles traffic. I make a quick call to a restaurant that I absolutely adore before my chauffeur runs in to grab the food. The smell of sweet and sour chicken and fried rice fills the cab, and my mouth waters.
When we arrive home, Maddox grabs the food while Roman and Kairo handle the clothes. It’s nice not having to put any effort forward as they load up their arms and guide me into the house.
What’s even more strange is how nice it feels to pile around my living room with them as rice, chicken, and egg rolls are passed around. I’m seated on the couch with my plate in my hands as Kairo nudges his way between my feet and plops down on the floor.
“Why are you sitting so close to me?” I ask, amused.
He gives me that charming smile over his shoulder. “I can’t be close to my girl?”
I choke on my rice, slapping a hand over my chest. “I’m not your girl.”
He shrugs. “Sure you aren’t. Keep believing that.”
I frown at him, but he doesn’t push further as we all enjoy our lunch. Roman sits on the opposite end of the couch, his plate piled high as he eats quietly. Maddox has his food resting over my coffee table as he faces us from the other side. It feels…domestic.
“So,” Kairo drawls, breaking the silence. “Are we like your dates to this thing?”
My brows go up. “No. You’re my bodyguards. My date is—”
“Let me stop you there,” Roman says as Maddox scowls across the coffee table at me.
“What?” I ask past my mouthful of chicken.
“No dates,” Roman bites as he slashes a hand. “No one who isn’t approved by us. Did I not make that clear before?”
My mouth falls open. “You can’t stop me from bringing someone—”
“I can and will, Siren. No dates.” Roman says as if his word is final.
Did I think this was nice? I was mistaken, because who the fuck does he think he is? “I can bring whoever I want.”
“No, you can’t,” Kairo replies.
“You can’t be serious,” I announce, my eyes glossing over them, but they all look deathly sincere on the subject.
Oh, this makes my original plan even easier. If they want to play, I’ll make the game impossible for them to win.
This is fucking war.