Page 58 of Cold

ChapterNineteen

VITO

Something was off.

The minute Romare stepped out of the bathroom, I saw the change in him. He was out of it, his smiles were plastic, and his palm was sweaty. Every clue pointed to something being horribly wrong, but I knew better than to ask.

He’s hiding something. But what?

I glanced over at Romare in the elevator as we ascended to our hotel room. He stared straight ahead, his gray eyes dark as he gazed into his own reflection. Like he was in a trance. I reached out and touched a curl and he jumped.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“What’s going on with you?” I asked, finally unable to hold back anymore. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the beach.”

“No I haven’t,” he said and turned back to stare at the elevator.

“Romare…”

“I’m fine,” he cut in as he stared up at me. “I promise.”

The elevator dinged and Romare reached out for my hand again. I took it, the hair on the back of my neck rising with each and every step. He had that same calculating look I’d noticed in his eyes when we first met as if he was on a mission.

I opened our room with the keycard and let us inside. Romare went right for the bathroom and the moment the door closed I heard him peeing. Didn’t he go at the beach? He was in there for so long. What’s going on?

Vito: Something’s up.

Ama: What?

Vito: I have no idea. Gonna try to handle it. I’m at a hotel.

I sent him the address and tossed the phone to the side as Romare walked out of the bathroom. He stepped up to me, his big eyes wet. I reached down and cradled his cheek, stroking his soft skin as he parted his lips and then quieted again.

He continued to struggle and I knew he wasn’t going to say anything. Romare clearly wanted to, but something was holding him back. I kissed him. He returned the motion, desperate and shuddering as he clung to me. My eyes widened.

Romare is terrified.

“Are you sure you don’t have something to say to me?” I asked.

“No,” he whispered. “I want to go to bed.”

Romare never wanted to go to bed. Not this early. If anything, he’d ask me to join him in bed, to wrap him in my arms, and hold onto him. He walked over to the bed, but I stopped him.

“Shower first. There’s going to be nothing but sand and gross water in our sheets if we go right to sleep. Let’s shower together.”

“No, I can do it on my own,” Romare said.

“You could,” I said with a nod. “But I’m going with you.”

Before he could object, I led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As soon as the water was hot, I helped him out of his clothes. Romare let me, raising his arms and lifting his feet until he stood there naked, staring at me. I took off my clothes and carried all of them out and tossed them to the floor.

Thump.

I frowned and lifted the shorts that Romare had been wearing. Definitely heavy. I searched through them, my fingers running over the fabric until they brushed against something cool and smooth. I tugged out a cellphone and stared at it.

He didn’t have this before.

A thousand scenarios flashed through my mind. Until I remembered the beach and the bathroom. Romare had started acting strange right around then. And I could swear that I’d heard voices. The only reason I didn’t investigate was that there was something in his eyes telling me not to. But now I wondered…

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