Page 51 of The Sin

I was done blaming Roman for any part of anything. Done blaming him for being a part of anything. Roman’s shoulders were broad, but they weren’t broad enough to carry the generations of cruelty of this world.

I released a tired, defeated sigh and rose up from knees.

My own, personal loss and grief was still buried in the pit of my stomach. I doubted it would ever go away. But it no longer festered, untold and unheard. It no longer chilled and numbed like a diseased, cold-blooded snake slithering along my veins and poisoning me with its last, dying breaths.

Some of the poison had leaked out with the tears.

Some of it was shared with Roman, and his grief, and the tragedy of Amelia.

Some of it may have been the initial shock that hit me like a bucket of ice water, and that was slowly draining off.

Roman pushed to his feet with me. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” I looked around for the flashlight, and found my coat crumpled on the ground. Roman must have snatched it up before he’d chased after me.

I didn’t feel the cold, but I pulled it on anyway.

Roman retrieved the flashlight and we set off alongside the tracks, this time side-by-side.

17

Iwas physically and emotionally exhausted when we rocked up at Julian’s Parkland house that evening, seven-thirty on the dot. Physically exhausted because of the long hike. Emotionally exhausted because, well, this day had been one emotional tornado after the other. And now I had to face Councilman Julian Edgar with a smile on my face and pretend everything in my life was just peachy.

My gaze slid to Roman and lingered. Oh, who was I kidding? My gaze feasted. I would never be too exhausted to notice how breathtakingly gorgeous Roman West was. For this dinner, he’d paired his faded black jeans with a long-sleeved silk shirt, untucked and unbuttoned at the collar. He wore all that casual elegance like a second skin, just like he always wore his arrogant amusement…and his leashed authority.

Now that I knew a little more about the orphaned boy who’d been made into this man, I totally grasped the contradictions.

As if feeling my gaze, his hand reached for me, his fingers sliding between mine as we crossed the courtyard that the stone mansion hugged. The central flowerbed was now a patch of dirt, a graveyard for the colorful splash of summer flowers that had been there the first time I’d visited. I was pretty sure they’d soon be replaced by some other magnificent display, but for now, this graveyard served my feelings justice.

The Capra council promised life, that was practically their mission statement. Continued life for the human race, but mostly they just destroyed. What was the point in preserving life if you annihilated the soul?

The butler, McKinnon, opened the door for us with his usual stiff appearance and starch greeting. “Mr. West. Mrs. West.”

“Thank you,” I said as we stepped inside the grand entrance hall and he took my coat from me.

A sliver of a smile slipped his austerity.

Roman clapped him on the shoulder, and the smile disappeared. As much as the man liked Roman, he had a serious problem with informality.

“The family is gathered in the library,” McKinnon informed us, and led us around the base of the elegant stairway that split halfway up to the east and west wings of the house.

Roman slid his fingers through mine as we strolled behind McKinnon, his gaze dipping toward me, serious and intense. He’d been doing that the whole day. Watching me with careful, worried looks, as if afraid I’d erupt. Or collapse. Or take off running again.

I smiled and untwined my fingers from his grasp. I immediately missed the warmth and surety of his touch, but I didn’t want to share it with this house. It was irrational, maybe, but the way I was feeling right now, Julian Edgar and his fellow councilmen tainted everything they touched. They were not getting anywhere nearthis, this intimacy that linked Roman to me.

Something had changed between us last night. And then again in the tunnel. Not just the kisses and the longing and want. The spark ignited by undeniable desire last night had caught on fire and was burning its way through all our defenses and masks. We’d shared our hurts and our anger and our vulnerabilities, and once you saw, you couldn’t un-see. There was no going back for us—and I didn’t want to go back.

I was no longer afraid of falling too hard, too deep.

I wanted to fall and fall and never stop falling.

There was too much ugliness that crowded in around the edges of our world.

Too much sorrow bedded into our bones.

Too much reality shouting for attention.

Too many choices taken from me.

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