I finally dropped my hold and grabbed her suitcase, prepared to take her things to one of the spare bedrooms. “You’re staying with me until I figure this out. You are not to go anywhere without telling me. You are not to do anything without me knowing about it. So, forget about going on any dates or spending time with friends.”
I sat in the living room while she remained upstairs in her bedroom. I needed some time alone, to meditate and release all the anger bubbling inside me. I was so angry at Rome for not telling me, for needing my protection but never asking for it. But I was even more livid with the man responsible for this situation, the one who was stupid enough to think he could haunt my girl and get away with it.
I needed to come up with a plan to get rid of him once and for all.
As much as I would have liked to murder Hank, that wouldn’t work. He was too well-known by everyone in the city to just vanish. I had to learn more about this guy and figure out the best way to dissolve him, to kill his obsession with Rome.
Rome’s footsteps broke my train of thought. She descended the stairs and entered the living room, still in the same clothes she wore earlier. She’d been in her bedroom for hours, probably waiting until my wrath dispersed.
Not gonna happen.
She fell onto the chair beside me, her dress moving up above her knee. She pulled her hair over one shoulder, revealing her slender and beautiful neck. The smell of vanilla immediately struck me, bringing with it memories of our nights together.
I was still angry with her, and I suspected I would always be angry with her.
“What now?” she whispered.
“I’m thinking.”
“You can’t kill him, Calloway. Neither one of us would be able to get away with it.”
The fact that she’d already considered murder made me feel a little better. “I know.”
“This guy is a nightmare. I’m not sure how to get rid of him.”
“Trust me, I’ll figure it out.” I wasn’t going to let Rome be a target any longer. Where she went, I went. And if he came after her, he would have to deal with me. Now that she was beside me and our conversation was relatively calm, I turned my chin and looked at her, seeing her green eyes dark and dormant. I could see the faint bruising around her left eye, the place where Hank had struck her. The image of her fighting him off so she wouldn’t be raped killed me inside. Rome lived a selfless life of helping others. Of all people, she deserved this the least.
My hand moved to her cheek then into her hair while my lips kissed the faded bruise. Her skin felt cold to my lips, not warm from the fire like I was used to. My arm circled her waist, and I kissed her forehead, touching her for the first time in a month. At the first contact, my hands shook. I missed this affection more than I’d realized—and I already knew I missed it a great deal. “Everything will be alright. You don’t need to be scared anymore.”
Normally, she would argue and say she wasn’t afraid of anything. She would tell me she didn’t need me—or anyone else. Her tough persona would come out, her fists raised. But she didn’t do that this time. That was all the confirmation I needed. She had finally reached the end of the road. She was exhausted by the constant battle, knowing Hank would catch her off guard over and over.
My hand moved down her back, gently massaging her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” I wasn’t letting her out of my sight until I knew Hank was really gone. I was excited that I’d get to spend more time with her, but I also loathed the idea because nothing had changed between us. She wanted romance, and I wanted whips and chains. She wanted to get married, and I wanted to be single until my last breath.
My conversation with my mother came back to me, and I pictured myself sitting on that balcony instead of her. No one would come to visit me, not even Jackson. I would have no children to remember me by, to come and read to me. There would be no wife to hold my hand and comfort me, even though she’d know I didn’t recognize her.
But those depressing images didn’t get to me. It was the fact that my life had nothing to show for it. If I lived a meaningless life, I would have a meaningless death. My need for control was irrelevant because I had no control over my own destiny.
“Calloway?”
Rome’s beautiful voice brought me back to the conversation.