by Bethany-Kris
Karine couldn’t breathe. The same way she couldn’t breathe that day inside the closet. The same way her sister couldn’t breathe when Dima had used Katina’s bloody tank top to strangle her when Katina wouldn’t stop fighting.
Karine had needed to put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Her sister couldn’t make a sound then because none would ever escape her lips again. She’d bitten through the skin of her knuckle, the sounds of those final moments one of her biggest regrets.
Taking her hands from her ears had consequences.
Her mind kind of broke, then.
All shattered into different pieces.
Sharp fragments. Never quite fitting back together the way they once did, but cutting her until she bled all the same when they tried.
“I’m so sorry,” she heard Roman say.
Karine was still staring out at the darkness that overlooked the lake. The memory had already begun to fade, but the effects remained burrowed deep in her heart, filling her chest with a heaviness that only seemed to spread.
“Nobody even knew it was him,” she said in a whisper. “Her death was just another excuse for my father to avoid, and—”
“You shouldn’t have had to see something like that.”
Maybe not.
“But that wasn’t the worst part, Roman.”
“Babe—just come to me. You don’t have to tell me this on the phone. Let Alec drive you to me, okay?”
It was too late.
That was the thing.
Karine had kept it secret for as long as she could ... there was no holding it back.
Maybe it was a noise that drew Dima’s attention to where Karine had been hiding in the closet. Either way, he’d found her there. Wild-looking, and bloodstained. Jeans shoved down his hips, and red staining his hands.
You.
That was all she remembered him saying. Well, that’s where her memories stopped altogether. The voice that answered the monster back when he’d thrown open those French doors was not her own.
“Pl-please don’t hurt me.”
The first words Katee ever spoke.
Regardless of how hard Karine tried, she couldn’t remember what happened next. Katee had simply decided those memories were hers to have.
Part of Karine was grateful.
The rest was terrified.
“Karine, listen to me—can you hear me?” Roman asked, the firm words forcing Karine to blink out of the blackhole welcoming her back to the safety of her fractured mind. The only place where she could hide. That day taught her that lesson. Her body might suffer, but her mind would be okay.
“Yes, I hear you.”
“You’re never going back there.”
He said it like it was true, but— “I don’t want to marry a monster.”
“Would you marry a man you love?”
Her brows furrowed in confusion
“I don’t understand,” she murmured.
“The only thing you need to do is get in the car with Alec and come to me. I’ll keep you safe, Karine. Just let me.”
She couldn’t respond, and her hands trembled as she held the phone.
“But you have to go now,” Roman continued. “You need to leave right now. Remember, nobody can know. Not even Masha. You have to do this alone, Karine. We can’t trust anybody. Do you understand me?”
“Okay, yeah, sure.”
Alec.
Right.
“Why him, then?”
Roman cleared his throat, saying only, “We go back from when we were kids—and he was awake, so. Shit worked.”
“Oh.”
“Working with what I got, babe, but I am doing something. Okay?”
She loved that he never failed to ask. Because even if it wasn’t okay at all, he made it that way. In a way ...
“Okay,” she repeated.
“That’s my good girl. I’ll see you soon.”
Then the call ended. Karine paced her breathing, trying to get a hold of herself even though she was slipping. The man in the room—whom she’d forgotten about—didn’t allow her the time she needed, but it wasn’t really his fault.
“I packed a bag quick—you didn’t have much. We should go,” Alec said.
She turned to face him, surprised to find he was holding the bag she’d been using up for her to take. When had he even started packing?
Alec didn’t mention a thing about what he’d heard on the phone call, and his gaze was still just as kind as it had been. No pity stared back when he asked, “Are you ready?”
She nodded, although it wasn’t true.
Karine didn’t know where she was going, or what would happen next. She’d spent her whole life devoid of answers, and she wanted that to change. So, she would start by going to Roman and asking him all the questions she had for him.
Everyone else could wait.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” she replied.
TWENTY-ONE
The plan Roman had for Karine to keep her close to him wasn’t one that his father particularly approved of. He was aware of it, sure, but Demyan agreed to it because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop his son if he tried. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not Dima was on his way to the lodge, he likely wasn’t, but Karine wouldn’t remain there to be found either way. He had been there, so she needed to move. Roman had made up his mind already, and this was the only way to do it.
Karine came first for him.
No matter what.
It also meant that the plan needed to be executed fast, and it had to be done in secret before anyone could fuck it up. If someone was feeding information of any kind to Dima, then they had no other option but to be careful. But if everything went smoothly, then he was going to make sure Dima would have no rights over Karine.
Not anymore—over Roman’s dead body.
Demyan’s focus was undoubtedly better spent on the reasons for Dima and Leonid acting strangely, but Roman had other things on his mind. That needed to be handled first.
Besides, he now had a pretty good idea why Dima was shitting bricks about Karine going missing. She was carrying a secret for him—she was the secret.
Essentially.
That made this all the more dangerous, too. He needed to get Karine alone, all to himself where the rest of the world wasn’t watching, and only then could he tell her his intentions. All that was left for him to do was wait for when she’d actually turn up.
He was waiting on the side of the freeway, somewhere between New York and Vermont, on a small dirt road that led off into an abandoned farmer’s field.
Alec promised to deliver Karine to him—unharmed and without alerting anyone else at the lodge. It was still up in the air on whether that part of the plan would actually work considering it was the one thing Roman hadn’t been able to think too long about before making hard choices.
Not for one second had he believed Karine would be comfortable driving for an extended time alone with a man she only barely knew—what choice did he have?
With the time crawling past four in the morning, Roman had been waiting at this spot for nearly two hours.
And only one thing dominated his every thought. Karine’s revelation had about killed him on the spot—how monotonous she had delivered to him the scene of her sister’s assault and murder over a phone call.
A fucking phone call.
It wasn’t something he was sure to forget anytime soon. Not the sound of her voice, or the picture she’d painted.
There’d never been any doubt for Roman that she was keeping something from him. Something that happened to her when she was younger. Some trauma that had somehow woven into her very soul. He’d expected it to be related to Maxim, and maybe that was his bias—or ignorance—showing, because despite knowing Dima was a real piece of work—Roman never once considered that horrible thing that Karine had kept hidden would be him.
How terrifying the last year of her life must have been as—even if only subconsciously—she�
��d realized that she was getting closer and closer to being delivered back into the waiting hands of her monster. What was the likelihood that Katina’s sudden presence didn’t somehow correlate to a stark, horrifying reality to Karine? There was something twisted about the way Dima had clearly left Karine living, broken, and then orchestrated her eventual return to him.
Why?
Had she just been too young for his tastes, or was his mind more warped than was comprehensible? Honestly, Roman was willing to bet it was a bit of both. And knowing all of that did nothing to quell his urge to get Karine as far away from Dima as possible.
Forever.
What was more fucked up about it all? Now, more than ever, Roman finally felt like he got her. Like he truly understood where the fragmented pieces of Karine had been born, and why.
If only, somehow, that could make it all better. As if some magical roadmap to healing her had been laid in his hands ... but, no.
That’s not how this worked.
Roman lit his third cigarette in a row—the only thing distracting him from all the pains and aches criss-crossing his body from head to toe. Even the way his cheek stung every time he grimaced, pulling at the tender, glued slice on his face, was forgotten as hot smoke burned the back of his throat and lungs.
Nobody could say he didn’t know how to handle stress. He did—it just wasn’t healthy.
The doctor wouldn’t have been pleased to hear what Roman had gone and done when he’d specifically been told to rest.
Whatever.
It would all be worth it when he saw Karine’s face.
He was halfway through his cigarette when he saw the headlights of Alec’s car approaching down the dirt road. Gravel crunched under slow-moving rubber. He crushed the cigarette under his shoe, and waited with his arms crossed over his chest.
The car stopped only a few feet away in front of him, and Alec got out first, moving to the rear to open the back door.
Roman hadn’t realized he was holding his breath, until he finally saw Karine’s slippered feet touch the ground. A smile twitched at his mouth. She hadn’t even bothered to put on her shoes.
But she was here.
Everything would change now.
Wrapped up in a quilt, Roman had to wonder if she’d even bothered to change out of her nightclothes when Alec barged in on her. That had been a risk, too—a risk that Katina might show herself if not handled just so.
She was frail in the headlights of Alec’s car—walking straight to him through the stream of bright yellow where he waited. Small, yes, but still beautiful. She kept her head up, her shoulders straight—Karine radiated a strength that he hadn’t noticed before.
But he loved it.
Loved her.
Alec stayed back, and Roman nodded at him over Karine’s shoulder.
“Thanks, man—for everything, yeah?”
“It wasn’t a problem,” Alec returned easily, “my pleasure.”
Alec quickly slipped back inside the car and headed off, no doubt back to New York to meet with Roman’s father, and receive his next set of orders. Whether that was returning to Vermont, or otherwise, he wouldn’t be punished for doing what Roman had asked.
Karine came to a stop only a couple of feet away from him, staring like he had all the answers in the world. She was far away enough that he couldn’t touch her, but close enough that he wanted to pull her into his arms.
And that was exactly what he did, closing those two feet with one long stride before he’d caught her in his arms. The quilt flew off her shoulders when Roman dragged her into his chest. Instantly, she had tipped her chin up, lips pursed for his kiss, demanding he give it to her before he could even offer it.
Roman didn’t mind, and by the time he was finished greeting her with tender sweeps of his lips against hers, her sigh was pure pleasure. All happiness.
“I thought something happened to you,” she whispered when he pulled away from the kiss. The pad of her index finger traced the cut below his eye. “Nope, don’t like that. At all.”
Her joking tone was still laced thick with fear, the undercurrent shaking her words just enough for him to hear it. He didn’t look great, but she had better things to be worried about other than him. The last thing he was ever gonna do to this woman was make her worry about him.
Simple as that.
“I promise I only look like damaged goods right now,” he said with a smirk.
Karine swallowed hard, but her finger didn’t pull away from the one visible injury she had decided to focus on. Little did she know, there were more where that one came from. So to speak.
“Dima did this to you,” she murmured.
“But he’s never going to do it again, and he’s definitely never taking you away from me. That’s what’s important here.”
Karine licked at the seam of her lower lip, and gripped his arms tighter. “Do you have a plan?”
He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.
The next part of this was easy. Like breathing, his mother might say, if it was just meant to be. He dared to believe it was, even if he wasn’t that kind of guy. He wanted to be—for Karine. He did.
“I have something even better—that’s why you’re here, remember? I have the woman I’m going to marry,” he replied.
The stretch of dirt road was quiet but for the woosh of passing cars every so often from the highway, hidden only by a thin patch of trees and darkness. In his arms, her head tilted back so he could see her smile.
He hadn’t expected to be nervous, really. Roman had already figured out what he wanted, after all. So when that smile of hers landed on him, he realized that he’d been right not to worry.
This—her—was everything he wanted.
“I wasn’t really sure if you meant that literally,” she said, soft but sweet.
“Really?”
Did he seem like the kind of guy to just say that kind of shit? To anybody?
Roman released her from his hold, dropping down on one knee in front of Karine. Her giddy laughter fell into the darkness surrounding them. He tugged on her hand, making her wild gaze dart to his.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t think I meant it literally, babe.”
She dragged her bottom lip under her top teeth, unable to contain her grin. “Well—”
“Well, I guess you should think about what you’re going to say, because I’m asking you to—wait, what’s your middle name?”
The ridiculousness of his question even had Roman laughing, but he eventually calmed them both down with another gentle pull on Karine’s trembling hand still safe inside his own. Her laughs silenced with a little gasp when he had her stare locked on his once more.
“I was serious—what’s your middle name?”
Karine weaved her fingers with his. There was a hitch in her breath, a soft hiccup, when she said, “Lizabeta.”
“Your mother?”
She shrugged. “I think so.”
“I don’t have a ring, but I promise I’ll get you any single one that you want. If you want to have it designed, we can do that, too. Whatever you wa—”
“What I want is you. I don’t care about a ring.”
So honest.
And true.
Her smile deepened again at his wink, and Roman decided to just go for it. The I love you part of this whole thing had been easy when he simply said it, no hesitating. He wanted this to be exactly the same.
Because it was easy.
Love should be.
“Well, you better think about what you wanna say because I’m asking you to marry me, Karine Lizabeta Yazov.”
He thought she might take a second. Even if only to absorb him actually saying it, but her whispered yes fell from her trembling, pink lips the moment he finished asking.
Nothing had ever sounded so good.
Roman was up from the ground and kissing Karine before she could blink, when she did, he felt the sp
lash of her tears from her dark eyelashes to his cheeks. He kissed every single one of those away, but that didn’t hide the questions he still found staring back in her eyes.
He wondered if she would ask them.
She was getting better at that.
It was her hand sliding down his chest that had Roman pulling away with a painful hiss. A reminder for both of them that his pain meant they were still in a dire situation.
“Sorry,” she was quick to say.
But Roman had her hand back in his, crushed against his aching ribs and her body tight against his own in the next breath. “It’s fine.”
His lips found her forehead.
He lingered there.
Karine asked, “What about Dima, and—”
“We’re gonna do one thing right now, babe. And won’t be worrying about him.”
He said it with confidence—even if it wasn’t something that he truly felt. That was Roman’s problem. He’d been taught to believe he could do anything simply because he said he could. It gave him an arrogance like no other that had served him better than well over the years.
It also made his failures all the more catastrophic, even if he had spent years drowning them in money and drugs.
This wouldn’t be one of those.
It couldn’t.
• • •
Money talked, bullshit walked.
And Roman had a lot of it.
Money, that was.
He hadn’t used his wealth to its full capacity before, but now he knew exactly where to use it. How to make that money talk.
The money he threw at people made them willing to turn their cheek to a lot of little details. Like when he was able to acquire a chartered private jet to Las Vegas in the middle of the night. They didn’t even ask him for fucking identification—the jet was already heading that way anyway to pick up the wealthy owner who had been staying in his weekend penthouse suite on the strip.
In Vegas, their first stop was at the office of a forger who was the top in the business. He’d ordered a new set of IDs for Karine that would help them move easier, and get everything else out of the way without much trouble.
Roman had already gotten rid of his phone, opting instead to pick up two burners that were only for him and Karine to call one another when he might need to leave her alone in the high-rise, luxury hotel suite for more than fifteen minutes. He didn’t use the burner to call anyone in New York, and wouldn’t unless he had absolutely no other option.