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“I’ll see to it personally,” Roman promised. After a long moment he added, “But Angel...”
“I know.” Her smile was sad. “Even if you manage to find them, there’s no guarantee they made it. It’s stupid, isn’t it?”
“It’s not. I understand.”
“You do?” she asked hopefully.
He moved until they were on their sides, facing each other. “I do. Killing him isn’t enough. Not now that we know he’s been doing it all these years to others. You need to see proof that there’s life after him. That there’s hope.”
“Yes. That. So much that. You really do understand.” Her guilt was a crushing weight. Yes, she’d done the best that a traumatized teenager with no resources could do. But then what? What about the intervening years? She could have tried again to go to the police. And that’s what she said to Roman.
“With what proof, sweetheart?” he asked kindly. “Let’s break it down. You could have spoken up when you became a doctor, people listen to doctors. But what would have happened when you couldn’t give them proof? No names, no places, no physical evidence. It would have endangered your career. Accusations like that don’t stay quiet for long.”
“Valuing my career over the abuse victims is pretty shitty,” she mumbled, shame welling in her.
“That’s not what happened.” Roman’s voice was stern. “Look at me,” he bade her, and when she kept her eyes down, he snapped, “Eyes on me!” Her wide eyes flew to his, and he grunted. “Better. Now listen good. You value life. You value people’s health and happiness so much that you centered your career around it. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help other victims. It was that you couldn’t. The only thing you could have done to offer proof was confess to burning that guy’s place to the ground. And that would have landed you in jail. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Understand?”
Angela burst into tears. She cried until her eyes hurt and her nose was running. She was mortified when Roman wiped her snot away with his discarded shirt. “Oh my god, stop that! I’m a mess.”
“The most beautiful mess I’ve seen,” Roman insisted. “If finding those two girls is what you want to do, if you need it to heal, then I’ll make it happen.”
Angela sighed, touching his face softly. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one,” Roman retorted. “And I intend to stay that way.”
When he rolled on top of her and slipped back into her welcoming heat, she saw no need to argue.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Roman answered his cell with an annoyed growl. “What is it? I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
He and Angel had spent the past two days naked, making love in every room and on every flat surface in the apartment. She’d said she wanted to break the place in now that it was her permanent home, and Roman had been more than happy to accommodate her. A quick look at the time showed it was almost ten in the morning and they were yet to make it out of bed.
Alaric cleared his throat. “I know. I apologize. But it’s the police. They’re asking to speak to Dr. Hawthorne.”
“What?” Roman barked. He jumped out of bed, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he pulled on pants. Angela sat up, looking worried. “Which cops are they? And why do they want to speak to Angela?” he demanded.
“Detective Rosier and Detective Hill,” Alaric answered. “And I don’t know. Detective Hill just said he was looking for her. He doesn’t look like he’s about to arrest anybody if that helps.”
Roman grunted, hanging up and tossing his cell onto the bed. He went to his closet, choosing a shirt at random. When he came back out, Angela was half-dressed. “You stay here,” he told her. She scowled, completely ignoring him and continued to get dressed. “Angel...” he tried again.
“No. I heard what you said. The police are here to talk to me. I’m going,” she said stubbornly. But she deflated once all her clothes were on. “What if they’re here because of the Foreman?” she asked fretfully. “I mean, Godfrey.”
Roman knew she was trying very hard to stop using Godfrey’s old title. In fact, she was trying very hard not to think about him at all. But it was difficult, considering she’d shot the man.
“I don’t see how it could be. Godfrey’s body is nothing but dust. There’s no evidence of his death anywhere. Any investigation into his disappearance would be treated as a missing persons case. Rosier and Hill are homicide.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she muttered.
“I’ll make you feel better once I get back,” he promised with a wink.
Angela’s answering smile was sexy as sin. “I’ll hold you to that. But for now, I’m coming with you.”
Roman sighed, extending his hand to her. He knew when to pick his battles. “Fine. Let’s go see what the pigs want.”
“Roman. The police do a very difficult and dangerous job. You shouldn’t talk about them like that,” Angela chastised.
Roman nearly tripped over his own feet when he swung his head swiftly, looking at her in astonishment. “You can’t be serious? I’m a criminal, Angel. I’m not about to be nicer to the fucking police.”
