Page 202 of Dark Romeo

The cathedral appeared empty as I slipped into the back door, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be around. I walked the same path that Julianna had walked towards the back room. My steps slowed as I neared the door, everything in my body screaming at me to turn back.

I had to keep going. I needed to see her body with my own eyes, even as my heart banged against my ribs. Until I saw her, she was alive somewhere in my mind.

I placed my hand on the smooth wooden door, be brave, and pushed my way in.

The coffin sat where mine had, upon a stone table. Unlike mine had been, the lid was open. My vision narrowed so that it was all I saw. They had sent my mother away dressed in mahogany too.

Oh, God, I can’t do this.

Yes, you can, Roman. You have to make sure it’s her.

I forced myself to step closer, my throat closing up as I neared and the inside came into view. Nestled like a gift in wrapping paper was my Julianna.

She was still so beautiful. At least death hadn’t stolen that away. Not yet. Her eyes were closed. She looked just like she was sleeping, except her lips were pale and the veins showed through her thin eyelids. She wore a soft white sundress printed with sunflowers, the same dress I had first seen her in, her hands clasped across her stomach.

It was true.

She was dead.

Because of me.

“How dare you,” I slammed my fist down on the stone platform, reveling in the pain that flared up my arm, “your life was not yours to take. It was mine. It belonged to me.” I clutched at the edges of her coffin, my fingernails scratching against the wood. I wanted to crawl in there with her and never wake up. “You belonged to me.”

I couldn’t protect my mother.

I couldn’t protect Jules.

I had failed.

Everyone I loved was now gone. There was nothing for me left on this Earth.

Nothing.

My gut twisted with resolve and relief as I made up my mind. I would not go back to my purgatory. “I’ll be with you soon, my love,” I whispered.

One last touch. Just one. I reached out for her cheek.

“Roman?” a male voice spoke from behind me.

I spun. Father Laurence was standing at the door to the room, dressed in his white priestly robes, a purple sash falling on either side of his neck. I’d been so focused on Julianna I hadn’t heard him come in.

His face broke out into one of relief. “Thank God. I knew you’d come back. I tried to get a message to you, but no one at witness protection would talk to me.”

“I read about it in the news,” I said, my voice wooden.

Father Laurence’s face dropped. “I’m so sorry, Roman. You shouldn’t have had to hear about it that way.”

“I’m sorry about a lot of things.” I pulled the gun out of the back of my belt, a gun I had bought off a street thug on my way here. There were only three bullets in the chamber. That was fine. I only needed one.

“What are you doing?” the Father asked, his palms coming up, his face turning pale.

“You need to leave this room. Right now.”

Realization sparked in his eyes. “Roman, I can’t let you do this.”

“You can’t stop me.” I raised the gun to my temple, the cold eye of the barrel biting my skin.

“No, wait,” he said. “I beg of you, just one more minute. It’s not what you think.”

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