“What place?” I ask, confused. My stomach twists into knots at the thought of leaving Roman. It feels like we just crossed a bridge, like we were getting to know each other. For once, I feel safe, secure, without the need to look over my shoulder every five seconds, but now…now I’m going to have to start all over again.
“You know you were only supposed to stay here temporarily. Until I could find somewhere safe for you. The good news is I found a place. It’s being renovated right now, but it will be done very soon…and don’t worry about anything. Everything will be paid for, and I’ll make sure you have enough money to live off for a while.”
I force a smile, only because I feel obligated to. I know Ivan’s only doing this to help me. He’s being extremely nice taking care of me and I should be grateful, and I am. But knowing this doesn’t change how I feel about the thought of leaving.
Being away from Roman. Violet smiles at me wildly as if she is genuinely happy for me and I feel incredibly guilty for not being able to appreciate what they’re doing for me. My heart hurts so much, I can’t even stand to look at Roman right now. I wonder what he’s thinking. If he feels the same way I feel. If he wants to see what could happen for us. Or if he’s ready to get rid of me.
Roman jumps up, startling us all.
“I’m going to the gym,” he growls before making a hasty exit. Ivan shakes his head, while Violet looks utterly confused.
“He’ll be in a better mood when he gets back from the gym,” I lie trying to smooth over the situation.
Ivan shakes his head, disappointment reflecting in his eyes. “His mood swings are getting worse. He needs to stop taking that shit before it fucking kills him. If he ever loses it on you, call me. I won’t hesitate to bring you to the house with Violet and I.”
My heart stops before resuming an unnatural rhythm.
Before it kills him?
The thought of Roman hurt or dead floods me with dread. I can barely deal with the thought of me leaving this house and being away from him. But the thought of him dying…of him not existing anymore…I can’t even fathom it.
I could never live in a world where Roman isn’t alive…never.
***
I’m curled up on the leather couch in the media room downstairs, half awake, watching some random TV show, when I finally hear the front door open. Roman has been gone for hours, so long that I was close to calling Ivan to gather a search party.
I turn off the TV and get up, stretching my aching muscles, hoping to be able to talk to him about what Ivan said earlier. But once the sound of the TV is gone, I hear Roman’s voice echoing through the house. My stomach drops, when the sound of a second voice touches my ears. It’s a male voice, one that I don’t know. Things seem to only get worse when they walk into the living room and I can see that they are clearly intoxicated.
“Hey babe,” Roman smiles when he sees me, catching me completely off guard. It’s almost like he is a completely different person from when he left the house this morning.
“Yeah…hey babe,” the other guy greets me, looking up and down my body. “You didn’t tell me you had someone to warm my bed.” He nudges Roman in the side with his elbow as if he’s joking, though the look on his face says otherwise.
Roman’s smile turns into something that looks like that of a snarl from a wild cat. “She is mine! Don’t fucking look at her, talk to her, and I swear, if you ever touch her, I’ll cut off your fucking hands!”
His possessiveness takes me by surprise, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy him claiming me as his. I want to be his. I want him to be mine. I just don’t know if that’s in the cards for us.
“Calm down man,” the guy holds up his hands palm first as if to show he means no harm. “Message received…babe is off limits.”
Roman walks up to me, his gaze softening when our eyes meet, and I melt just a little into his touch. This is the side of him I like most.
“I’m sorry I left you for so long. I had to…blow off some steam.” I just now noticed that his speech is slurred. When he leans in to kiss me on the cheek the strong smell of alcohol assaults me.
“It’s okay,” I lie. It’s not okay, but I don’t want to fight again. Especially not in front of some guy I don’t know.