Page 178 of Dark Romeo

“My career is over. I just lied to the chief of police about witnessing a shooting. And,” I tried not to let the bitterness show in my voice, but I failed, “it turns out that my father is not the man I thought he was.”

Roman tucked me against his chest, his hand stroking my hair. I found myself softening against his solid, hard warmth. “I’m sorry. It’s hard when fathers fail us.”

He hadn’t answered my question. I pulled back to look at him. “So…?”

“It would mean a life on the run. It would mean leaving everything behind.”

“It would mean being with you. Really being with you. Walking down the street together, holding hands, kissing in public.”

“You’d never be able to come back, to see your father or Nora again.”

I paused. My heart squeezed. “Nora will understand.”

“And your father?”

I gritted my teeth. “He won’t. But that’s not my problem.”

Roman shifted under me, his features pensive. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I know what I’m getting myself into,” I said firmly. I had never been so sure of anything in my life. Paris, with Roman. Hell, I’d go anywhere as long as he was with me.

A small, slow smile crawled across his face. “Okay.”

Our mouths crashed together. In my heart, there was this warm feeling of certainty that I had come home.

“Wait.” He pulled back as my greedy hands wandered down his body. “We have a lot to plan.”

“Later,” I said, pushing him onto his back and sliding down on his length.

* * *

I could have stayed with Roman all day. Father Laurence had told us we wouldn’t be disturbed there. Later, once we were long gone, we would have more than enough time for lazy days in bed.

We agreed to leave Verona together after Mercutio’s funeral that afternoon at another church. We’d take out all the cash we had access to, then leave in my car, ditching it for another once we were out of town. Then we’d hole up in a motel in a nearby town while Roman’s contact worked on getting us fake passports so we could leave the country without being detected. The rest we’d figure out as we went.

I watched Roman slipping on his dark t-shirt, apprehension coiling in my belly. Now that we’d decided to do this, I didn’t want him to leave my sight. What if his father found him? What if my father caught him? “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. It’s too dangerous for us to risk being seen together.”

I chewed my lip, my stomach doing flips despite his reassurances. “I’ll go crazy just sitting here waiting for you. I’ll go home, get clothes, say goodbye to Nora.”

He caught sight of my face as he slipped on his shoes. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me against him. “Don’t worry,” he mumbled against my hair, “I won’t let anyone see me.” He kissed me long and deep.

I gripped his shirt, not ready to let him out of my sight. “Promise me you’ll come back?”

“I promise.”

ROMAN

____________

I watched Mercutio’s funeral from afar, cowering behind an old oak tree. It was held at the small Catholic church that Nonna went to every Sunday, the Church of St. Michael. She used to make Mercutio and me go with her when we were boys. As we got older it became harder for us to sit still long enough for her to wrangle us into our Sunday best.

The small chapel on the grounds was unassuming, a simple rectangular design with a copper bell hanging from the bell tower. The tombstones here were like small, simple, mismatched teeth across a threadbare lawn, Mercutio’s grave sitting open and fresh like a cavity.

I should be the one in the ground. What kind of person did it make me to take happiness from being alive when he was dead? What kind of person did it make me to take shelter in the arms of the woman I loved when the ones he loved paled with his loss? I would return to Julianna and Nonna would return to an empty house.

There was a cluster of mourners around his gravesite. Nonna was among them, her soft, trembling body shaking with grief. She cried as the priest spoke. She wailed as the coffin was lowered into the cold ground.

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