18
Roman storms down the stairs as the home he built goes up in flames behind him. His face is marred with soot, and he doesn’t dare look up at his brothers as he passes.
My heart breaks for him. All he wanted out of this was to get his son home and safe, and once again, we came up empty handed. It’s like running headfirst into a wall over and over again, hoping for a different outcome. But this … the home he built for his future, the home he always planned to raise his children in, where he wanted to give them the life he never had, it’s gone.
Marcus’ hold eases on my waist as I turn and watch the eldest DeAngelis brother walk away. He strides across the big driveway, the glow from the burning mansion shining down upon him and showing off the tight way he holds his shoulders. He’s been standing on edge since the moment he found out his son was alive, and losing him again tonight was exactly what he didn’t need.
“Fuck,” Levi mutters, watching his brother with the deepest sorrow in his eyes. “What the hell are we going to do? That baby is as good as gone.”
Marcus shakes his head, his hand dropping to my lower back. “I’ve got no fucking idea,” he says, his tone low and filled with an ache that tears at my chest. “This is going to destroy him.”
“Father is going to retaliate when he finds out what we’ve done to Victor.”
Marcus nods, more than aware of the consequences he just walked straight into. “It’s not going to be pretty,” he comments as his hands find my wrists and slide up to my upper arms, holding me at his chest as I struggle to peel my eyes off Roman.
He reaches the black SUV and braces his hands wide against the hood as his head hangs forward. The muscles in his back are tight, and I can only imagine what kind of fresh hell is going through his head right now. Either way, he looks about ready to raise hell … or drown in it.
My hand falls against Marcus’ chest as I look up to meet his dark eyes, but the overwhelming grief that is staring back nearly knocks me right off my feet. “Give us a minute,” I tell him.
Marcus’ grip on my arms tightens. “That’s not a good idea, babe. There’s no telling how he’s going to react to this. Give him some time to cool down.”
“I’m with Marc,” Levi says, stepping a little closer and placing a hand on my hip. I glance back over my shoulder to meet his broken stare. “Roman … he feels things hard. He bottles it up until he can’t take it any longer and then explodes. You don’t want to be there when that happens.”
I shake my head, my gaze settling back on the destroyed man across the driveway. “I can’t,” I murmur. “Look at him. He needs someone. I’m not just going to leave him there to let this eat at him. He needs to get it out. He needs to scream … or strangle something. I don’t fucking know, but I’m not just going to stand by and let him bottle it all up. It will destroy him.”
Levi grips my arm and tears me out of Marcus’ grasp, spinning me around to face him front on. “I don’t think you’re hearing me,” he warns. “If you push him to talk about it before he’s ready, he will fucking strangle you.”
My fingers curl around his tight grip and I rip them off my arm, my eyes narrowing as a silent, furious rage builds within me. “And you’re not hearing me,” I spit, hating how my stubborn nature always seems to clash with their need to rule over every aspect of my life. “Roman needs me, and whether you like it or not, I’m going over there to help him. He needs an outlet, and that outlet is me. You need to learn to trust me,” I say, glancing back at Marcus. “Both of you do. I know what I’m doing.”
Levi’s gaze shifts up over my head to Marcus, caution deep in his obsidian eyes as they seem to have some kind of silent conversation. After a short beat, Levi lets out a defeated sigh and gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Fine,” he mutters. “You can go, but if he loses his shit, you get the fuck out of there.”
I raise a brow, irritation burning deep within me. “Thanks,” I murmur, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the way these boys think they can confess their undying love and suddenly be rewarded with the ability to order me around. “But I wasn’t asking permission.”
Levi’s gaze hardens and I don’t doubt that he’s fighting the need to whoop my ass, but I don’t hang around to find out. Slipping out from between them, I make my way across the massive driveway toward Roman, determined to help him in what little way I can, though if I’m completely honest, I have absolutely no idea what I can offer him to make this any easier.
He stands with his back to me and gives no indication that he hears me coming, and as I get closer, I find myself glancing back over my shoulder. Marcus and Levi are nowhere to be seen, but I don’t doubt that they’re still close, ready to jump in and save me if it comes down to it. But for the most part, they’ve offered me what little privacy they can manage, and for that, I’m grateful.
Moving in behind Roman, I gently place my hand in the center of his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath. His body shakes with rage and it tears at something within me. Roman and I have always had a strained relationship, right from the beginning. We butt heads at every turn, but that asshole has more than grown on me, and seeing him in this kind of distress hurts me in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.
His body tightens under my touch and he becomes impossibly still.
Turning into him, I look up at the haunted man who stands before me, slowly trailing my hand from his back around to gently capture his bicep beneath my fingers. “Roman.” His name comes out as the softest whisper that has his head slowly rising.
He turns his attention on me and a gasp pulls from the back of my throat as his dark, dead eyes land on mine. He looks like a complete stranger, completely lost to pain and grief causing havoc over his heart. I know with every beat of my heart that I would do or say absolutely anything it takes.
I step into him, my chest gently brushing up against his arm as the darkness surrounds us, leaving nothing but an orange glow coming from the inferno behind us, heating my skin and raging loudly into the silent night. “Let me take your pain.”
Roman holds my stare for a long moment, his desperation like two deep, hollow pits of helplessness looking back at me. Then as if flipping some kind of switch deep inside of him, the pain and grief flooding his dark gaze turns to rage. “There is no taking my pain,” he growls, his low tone vibrating right through my chest and eating at me.
His hand snaps out and circles my throat, and with a hard yank, he throws me down against the hood of the SUV. A pained gasp tears from my throat as he keeps me pinned under his strong hold, his body pressing against mine as he leans over me to get right in my face.
My hands grip his on my throat as the darkness swirling in his eyes bear down on me. “Don’t you fucking get it?” he growls, his face just inches from mine. “It’s fucking over. He’s gone. MY SON IS GONE.”
I shake my head, pulling at his hands just to get a breath in. “I don’t believe that,” I tell him, sucking in low, shallow gasps. “We will find him. This is just a setback.”
He leans in a little closer so his nose brushes up against mine. “We won’t. Victor was right. My father is always five steps ahead of us. I will never get to see my son. I’m going to have to spend every day of the rest of my fucking miserable life knowing what kind of hell my father is putting my son through, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”