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Relief rushes through me, causing more tears to spring to my eyes at her confirmation that she doesn't hate me. I swipe them away and clear my throat. "I don't think he meant it that way," I whisper. "He loves you so much. The thought of anything happening to you kills him. He didn't want you to know how bad things were because he didn't want you to spend every day looking over your shoulder. The people he has to deal with are evil, Tahani. You're his daughter, and he wanted to protect you from that."
His father was killed in the line of duty. I think not telling Tahani the full scope of his job was his way of protecting her from worrying that he might die the same way. Law enforcement is dangerous for every officer. But the risk is a lot higher for guys like Roman, who deal with the kind of people he deals with every day…the risk is a lot higher. He didn't want her to live with that reality hanging over her head.
"I know that now. At least I'm trying to understand. How…how bad is it, Mila? Really?"
"Bad," I tell her, my throat raw. "It's really bad, Tahani. They…" I have to stop and take a breath before I can force out the words. "They set the house on fire with me inside it. They were going to kidnap me to hurt him. He's…I don't know what he's going to do. He's so angry. I'm terrified he's going to do something stupid and get himself hurt." A whimper crawls up my throat at the thought, coming out in a painful gasp. "I don't know what I'm going to do if anything happens to him."
"You love him," she whispers, watching me closely.
"So much it scares me," I confess, not trying to hide the truth from her. If this is my one chance to tell her how I feel about her father, I want her to know how much he means to me. "I've never felt this way about anyone before, Tahani. He's…God, he's everything. He can be bossy and frustrating, but he's so sweet and gentle. He makes me happy. Even with everything going on, I've never been as happy as I am with him."
"He told me that he's been in love with you for a long time."
"Me too," I whisper. "I tried to deny it. For your sake, I tried. I tried to forget about him and move on with Damien. I tried so hard. But he's always been there, you know? I think I've just been waiting for him to do something about it all this time." Since the day I met him, he's been in my head, playing through my mind like a song stuck on repeat. He was there no matter how hard I tried to push him out and focus on something else."
She's quiet for a long moment, and then she sighs and offers me a watery smile. "He's been alone for a long time and deserves someone like you, Mila. I'm glad he has you. And Damien was never good enough for you. But my dad has always been the kind of man you deserve."
Her words give me hope that our friendship might survive the last few weeks of silence and sadness. She's the closest thing to family I've had since my mom died. I don't want to lose her any more than I want to lose Roman.
"Thank you," I whisper and then take a deep breath, knowing I have to tell her about the baby. Praying the news doesn't destroy our friendship once and for all, I whisper, "I have to tell you something, and I don't know how you're going to feel about it."
She looks at me expectantly.
"I'm pregnant."
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't say anything.
"We found out last night. I didn't plan it. Neither of us did." I squeeze my eyes closed and then pop them right back open, staring at the floor at my feet when worry shoots through me again. My hand settles over my stomach, like I can physically protect my baby by sheltering him or her with my hand. "T-they think the baby is okay, but they said it's too soon to make any promises." My voice shakes, and I can't blink back the tears this time. They spill over, a sob catching in my throat again. "I'm so fucking scared I'm going to lose them both. So fucking scared."
I try to compose myself, but this time, I can't control myself. I'm so fucking afraid that I'm going to lose everything that matters to me. I can't breathe through the fear. I never planned to get pregnant this soon, but I want this baby more than I've ever wanted anything. I want the future Roman promised me.
How am I going to survive if I lose them?
Tahani slides closer to me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. I cling to her and sob, crying so hard that I can't catch my breath as fear overwhelms me completely. She murmurs to me, telling me that everything will be okay. I want to believe her, but I can't. Roman always calls me a warrior, but I don't feel like one right now. I feel smaller and more vulnerable than I've ever felt in my life.
I need him to be okay, and I need him to be here.
Please let him be okay. Please.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Roman
"You good, man?" Brady asks, shaking out his hand as the ambulance pulls off in the distance, carting our latest target to the hospital. Two LAPD squad cars follow behind, their take-down lights ripping through the darkness.
Brady and I stay hunkered down in the alley half a block away, waiting for the coast to clear. If LAPD is looking for us, they aren't looking hard. That's the fourth time since midnight that they've come to pick up our handiwork and left without doing more than a cursory glance around. Either they've got more important shit to do than deal with a few known cartel associates getting the shit kicked out of them, or they just don't give a fuck.
After spending the last few weeks picking up the dead bodies Guerrero's men have left littered all over the city, I'm thinking they just don't give a fuck. We haven't killed anyone yet, and they've got bigger fish to fry.
So do we.
Guerrero's men haven't told us a damn thing. We're no closer to the son of a bitch now than we were four hours ago.
"They don't have a fucking clue where he's hiding," I mutter to Brady, turning my head in his direction when the squad cars disappear from sight.
He grunts, tearing a strip off his shirt to wrap around his knuckles. They're swollen and bleeding. His hand is probably broken. It hasn't slowed him down any. He's been a machine, unstoppable.
"If de Silva didn't know where he's at, no one does," I tell him, reaching up to rake a hand through my hair. Halfway up, I remember Jesus de Silva's blood is still dripping from my hand and drop it back to my side. I've been unstoppable, too.
