Sweet Rome (Sweet Home 1.5)

Shaking his head, Austin said, “Sometimes, Rome, I wonder how we both got such shit lives. You with all the money in the world but with the worst parents on Earth.” I actually laughed at that. “Or me, a piece of trailer trash nothing, with two dickhead brothers and a saint of a mother who can barely walk anymore.”

I tilted my bottle of beer in his direction and he clinked his against mine, no more words needing to be said.

The party carried on, most of the players scoring chicks for the night, and Jimmy-Don came back into the room finding Austin and me still on the same spot. “Guys! A group of us are heading out to a bar, you coming?”

“Your girl not going to be pissed at you if you do?” I asked with a teasing smile.

Jimmy-Don was crazy about his new girl, never shut up about the damn Texan blonde all the way to Arkansas. Apparently the chick was adventurous as all hell in bed, which I discovered after the seventh detailed explanation of their top ten sexual positions. What the f**k’s Othello’s Back Grove anyway?

“Hell no! Cass’d probably kick my ass if I didn’t go out and drink, and she knows I wouldn’t stray.”

I believed him. He was a good guy.

“Gonna pass,” I said. “I think I’ll just head back to the hotel.”

Bending down, Jimmy-Don pressed his hand against my head once again. “Seriously, Bullet, are you sick? For real? First, no women in weeks and now, refusing to go to a bar? You’re Invasion of the Body Snatchers deal is scaring the shit outta me!”

Laughing, I stood, patting him on the back. “I’m just sick of it all, man. Need to get my head down and focus. Catch you later.”

Austin came back with me, something clearly bugging him too, but we knew not to pry into each other’s problems and instead talked football all the way back to our rooms.

Once in bed, I closed my eyes, and it was Molly’s face I saw, her kiss I tasted, and sighing, I began counting down the hours until I could see her again.

I was so f**king screwed.

* * *

As soon as the plane hit the tarmac, the texts started. My daddy writing that he wanted to see me, needed to see me, warning me that I’d better f**king see him!

Then at six thirty in the damn morning, he called. Deciding to just answer and get his lecture over with, I greeted with a reluctant, “Daddy.”

“I’m almost at the grounds of your school. I suggest you meet me immediately. Don’t make me come looking.” My fists clenched and I almost crunched the bastard cell in my hands.

“I’ll meet you at the quad.”

Picking up my keys, I quickly left my room, almost sprinting to the quad, still wearing the same clothes I’d just traveled in. The place was deserted, too early for students to be up, but the sun was already burning hot, the campus eerily still.

Rounding the corner, it didn’t take long to spot my father’s treasured Bentley—silver, ostentatious—and I stopped on the sidewalk, right at the hood of the car.

My daddy opened his door, his suit slightly disheveled and his brown eyes tired. For a moment I faltered, thinking he was here to deliver some bad news, until I saw him grinding his teeth and knew he was here about me.

“Rome,” he greeted, folding his arms across his chest.

I hated that he was this calm and collected, his voice quiet and low. I could never predict his mood when he was like this, never knew whether to brace for a hit or if I was about to be blackmailed into doing some shit I didn’t want to.

“Daddy,” I said cautiously.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls, texts, emails.”

“I needed a break. Football has been intense, and school is only getting crazier the closer I get to graduation. And I know you still want me to marry Shelly and didn’t want to argue about it anymore.” His eyes ignited some at that.

“Damn right I want this marriage.” He took a step closer, but at six foot three, I towered above him. “Look, I need you to marry her. I need to keep the business between the two families.”

My father was acting strange. I could sense the desperation in his voice, see it in his stance, the way he was constantly running his hand through his hair. My suspicions were through the roof. Something other than the marriage was clearly bothering him, but hell if I could guess what. My daddy would never tell me if I asked. No way would he ever show weakness in front of me, but I had to try.

“Tell me why are you pushing this so much,” I demanded, seeing the anger in his tight features at my line of questioning. That was one of many things that were forbidden—questioning my father’s instructions. Curling his lip with annoyance, he prodded a finger to my chest.

“Do what you’re told. Carry out the duty we kept you for!” And there it was. The not-so-subtle reminder that I wasn’t ever wanted.

I held my ground. “You know what, old man, screw your arranged marriage. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. Give it up already.”

His rage took hold and the man I’d grown up with showed his ugly head, fake politeness forgotten as he gripped my shirt in his fists. “You insolent shit! Why must you defy me at every turn!” His eyes were skittish and that only confirmed my suspicions. Something bigger had to be behind this. He hadn’t been this physical in years.

I didn’t fight him, but bit back, “Because I don’t want this life for myself. I don’t want to be you!”

Leaning up to my ear, he said in a low voice, “You were never good enough for this family!” and on instinct, he drew back a hand but stopped, clearly trying to restrain himself from his old form of punishment. I could fight back now that I was bigger, stronger, and the old bastard knew it. I was seventeen the last time I’d let him hit me, but he never touched me in public. There was no way he would risk his perfect reputation. But here he was, lashing out in broad daylight, his composed persona unraveling.