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“When Misha calls, you answer,” Roan said, as if I’d somehow forgotten. “That was the deal. And if you piss him off, who do you think he’s going to come after? Not you. Me. They need you. They don’t need shit from me. I’m the fucking leverage to keep you in line.That’swhy I’m still alive.”
“That’s not—”
He ripped back the covers and jumped out of bed, storming out of the room. I sat up and was halfway out of bed before I forced myself to stay put. My molars ground together so hard they were on the verge of cracking, but at least I didn’t fucking scream or rip the pillow in half.
Roan returned a moment later, flinging my phone onto the bed like a frisbee. I was honestly surprised he didn’t whip it at my face given his current attitude. “I might be new to the criminal underworld, but I’m not a fucking idiot, Sasha! So don’t sit there and try to tell me my life means anything to your bosses.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“They would,” he shot back. “Because it’s exactly what I would do. You forget — growing up, I got a front row seat on how to be a ruthless son of a bitch. I just chosenotto be one and look how that fucking played out.”
I opened my mouth to reply and quickly shut it again, knowing nothing good would come of my observation.
It didn’t matter. He kept going. “Surprise! The golden boy isn’t all sunshine and fucking rainbows. Bet you didn’t realize that in all of your fucking surveillance. Regret kidnapping me yet?”
His anger cut through me like a knife, but I refused to acknowledge it. I’d never regret the way we met. I couldn’t. If I hadn’t kidnapped him, our paths would have never crossed. Not in a million lifetimes. Everything good that had happened since then wasbecauseof Roan. So, no. I refused to regret it.
My only regret was failing him, but admittingthatwould never happen either. It was my shame to bear, alone, in silence. He had enough on his shoulders, he didn’t need to hear me whine about my shortcomings or wish that it had been me instead of him. All I could do was be here now, be whatever he needed for however long he needed it, and hope to God he forgave me over time.
Scoffing, Roan shook his head, his nose wrinkled. The beautiful, expressive eyes I saw earlier were gone. They were dead now, cold and empty, as if my mere presence was offensive to him.
Without another word, he turned and drifted out of the room, like a fucking ghost.
I didn’t bother following him.
8
ROAN
The frantic poundingon the front door jerked me right out of Middle Earth and back to reality. I paused the movie and looked at the door but made no move to actually get off the couch. Sasha was gone, probably off torturing someone for fun, and I sure as shit wasn’t expecting anyone.
“Roan!” Fuck. It was Frankie.
So much for ignoring her and her bajillion texts and phone calls and video chats and DMs through every goddamn social media app known to man. I thought she’d get the hint I wasn’t in the mood to chat about random shit that didn’t fucking matter. Nor was I in the mood to talk about anything thatdidmatter. But never in a million years did I think she’d get on a plane and come harass mein person.
“Open the fucking door!”
I groaned and slunk further down on the couch, squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe if I stayed like that long enough, she’d go away. Or security would hear her and drag her ass out.
“Sasha, you fucking asshole! Open the door!” She actually tried the handle a couple times before kicking the bottom of the door so hard it rattled in the frame. “Open this fucking door right now before I call the cops!”
Yeah,thatwas the last thing I, or Sasha, needed — more fucking cops poking around our lives. I didn’t hate them the way he did, but I’d had enough interaction with them over the past few months to want to steer clear for a while. Plus, Sasha would lose his shit if the cops got called to his apartment. Not to mention Misha would probably be equally livid. Then my homelessness would be almost guaranteed.
Summoning the enormous amount of energy required for physical activity, I forced myself to my feet. When I yanked the door open, she practically tumbled into the apartment, fists still poised for pounding.
“What?” I asked, leaning against the door.
“What? What?!” She straightened, her dark eyes flashing. “I haven’t seen you in months. You’re not answering the goddamn phone. And now, after I fly home from New York, all I get from you is ‘what’?!”
“Whatever.” I shook my head and ambled back to the couch, flopping into my preferred spot and pulling the blanket up over my shoulder. The movie resumed as Frankie stomped after me, screeching as loud as a Ringwraith.
“Oh, you didnotjust turn your back on me, Roan Sinclair!” Snatching the remote off the couch, she turned the TV off and flung it at the chair on the other side of the living room, well out of reach. “Did you hear me a second ago? I flew home from New York, foryou! I thought I was going to come here and find you chained to a fucking radiator. Instead I see this. This shell of a human.” She gestured at me with a wrinkled nose.
“Fuck off, Frankie. I don’t need another lecture.”
Another lecture, like the one that pissed me offthatday. The one where she told me Sasha brainwashed me and that our fucked-up relationship wasn’t real. She’d been so supportive about everything else in my life until that moment. When I wanted her to tell me I wasn’t fucking crazy for falling for the guy who kidnapped me, she told me I needed to see a goddamn shrink. True or not, I was so pissed by her betrayal I left the apartment. I left and walked straight into the hellstorm that was already on its way to me. Well, on its way to Sasha. They just found me first.
Did that mean I blamed her for what happened to me?
