by Emma Renshaw
“What?” I snap, looking away, unable to handle the pain in his eyes. I’ve always taken on his emotions as my own. I felt his pain more than my own—each time we found his mother passed out on a park bench or stumbling her way out of the county jail.
“I don’t know what girl you’re talking about.” I see him take a step toward to me in my periphery as my heart starts to pound. Agony and anguish are rolling off of him. It takes every ounce of strength I have to not turn to him and comfort him. “Sugar, please look at me. Please.”
I take a deep breath, biting my lip, trying to keep my tears at bay. My eyes look toward him, but I don’t meet his eyes yet. First, they fall on his down-turned lips before skating up to his crinkled eyebrows. After I look at every centimeter of space on his face, I finally meet his eyes. The brown that plays amongst his impossibly dark eyes seems dull as his eyes beg for forgiveness.
He releases a shuttering breath and takes a step forward. I let him open my legs as he steps between them, placing a fist on either side of my hips and resting his forehead against mine, breathing in deeply. Roman leans back, looking into my eyes before he starts speaking. “I don’t know what girl you’re talking about. I don’t, Harper. What you’re describing though, that shit isn’t me. I wish you knew that. I’d give anything to go back and not hurt you so much. I could never do something like that to you. I wasn’t with any girl while we were together, and after I broke up with you, I still couldn’t be with another girl. I fucking belonged to you. I belong to you.” He rests his forehead against mine for another long moment.
I don’t say anything, trying to process everything. I can’t find the lie in his words but why break up if he “belongs” to me? That doesn’t make any sense.
He continues speaking without any urging. “How could I not know you were there? Fuck. I’m going to find out who that bitch was. Fucking Kiernan.”
I feel defensive when he brings up Kiernan. Kiernan’s the only reason we’re even having this conversation, at least he thinks I should be told things about my own life. Instead of the man in front of me, content to control my life and leave me hanging and alone in the dark. “Kiernan has nothing to do with this.”
Roman glares at me, clenching his jaw. “It was one of his girls, I’m sure.”
“He was your roommate? Doesn’t matter. He didn’t make her say those things to me, and I doubt he told her any of the things she knew about me. Only things you could have said.”
Roman’s hand comes up, cupping my jaw and bringing my eyes back to his. “I’m going to figure this out, Sugar. I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t with anyone around that time. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”
I swallow before nodding and getting completely lost in Roman’s gaze. His next question pulls me from my stare, surprising me. “Did Santiago know that you came to see me?”
“Yes,” I answer, confused by his question. “He’s the one who called to tell me about my parents and sister.”
“He called me, too. I came to the funeral.”
Bomb.
Explosion.
My ears are ringing after the bomb Roman just dropped on me.
I hear his voice off in the distance, but my mind is spinning and I can’t process his words.
I think back to the day of the funeral. Three funerals rolled into one a few weeks before my eighteenth birthday and a few months before my high school graduation. Uncle Santiago stood on one side of me with my hand wrapped tightly in his large, tan, rough hand. Daniel, a new, good friend stood on my other side with his arm wrapped around me. I couldn’t look at the three glossy, black coffins in front of me. I stared at the tree line in the distance, pinching my thigh, begging to wake up from this nightmare. Go back in time. To when my family was alive. To when Roman was mine. Roman. I stood, in agony that I should’ve been with them. Instead, I was trying to get a boy’s attention. A boy who left, a boy who didn’t love me, a boy who made fun of me while some other girl was in his bed.
“Harper.” Roman’s fierce voice breaks me from my reverie.
“You weren’t there.” I state in a blank tone.
“Yes, I was. You were wearing a black dress with a pink bow. The same color pink of Sadie’s room.” Roman looks down after saying my little sister’s name. When he looks back up at me, there’s pain all over his face. Roman loved my family like they were his own, and they loved him. Sadie thought of him as an older brother, and he was protective over her, just like a brother would be.
“Santiago was next to you and you were in the arms of some guy. I sat in the very back of the church and snuck out before you walked down the center behind the caskets. I watched you get in the limo with that guy. I watched him hold you at the cemetery. I was a coward. I couldn’t bring myself to walk up you and tell you how much I regretted. I was there.”
Each time I think my heart can’t possibly break more, I’m proven wrong. My heart keeps breaking, finding new pieces to completely shatter and turn to dust. Each breaking piece fills me with rage. I angrily look up at Roman, making eye contact. “I hate—”
Roman’s hand covers my mouth. He leans in, his eyes matching my rage. “Don’t you dare say that to me. It’s not fucking true and you fucking know it, Harper.”
I rip my head away from his hand, even angrier that he’s right. Even after all he’s done to break me, I’ll never hate him. I could never hate him. My heart will always be his.
“Well,” I start, flustered, searching for something to say. “I don’t like you.”
Roman leans, in kissing my cheek, and whispers in my ear, “That’s fine. You don’t have to like me, as long as you’ll always love me.”
His lips slide over my cheek until they reach my lips, placing a searing and hard kiss there. He breaks the kiss just as quickly as he started it. “We’re going to figure this shit out, Sugar.”
“Why didn’t you come up to me? I needed you, Roman.”
“I was an idiot boy. I’ll never make that mistake again, no one and nothing will ever be in our way.”
“He was just a friend,” I whisper, looking down.
Roman sighs, bringing his arms around me and wrapping me in a hug. “It wasn’t just that there was a guy next to you. Fuck.”
Tensing in his arms, I try to prepare myself. I don’t want to break any more. “What?”
“Harper, I broke up with you because I didn’t want you to wait for me.”
I lean back, looking at Roman’s face, searching for something in it. For what, I don’t know. Clarity, maybe. “You didn’t,” I whisper.
“You would have followed me anywhere.”
He’s not wrong. It’s true, I would have followed him to any town, city, or country. “You had no right to make that choice for me.”
“Harper, we can’t keep going round and round like this. I couldn’t think about you giving up your dreams to be with me.”
“I wouldn’t have had to give anything up,” I insist, even though deep down I know it’s a lie. “I could still have my store and you.”
“You still have me.”
“No, I don’t.”
Roman slams his mouth down on mine, done with speaking, pouring every unspoken word into this kiss. My entire body engulfs in flames as he kisses me. Passion. Heartbreak. Love. Forgiveness. It’s all in this kiss, warring with the other, desperate to see which will come out on top. He’s pleading for my love, my forgiveness. Atoning for his mistakes. I’m trying to mend my heartache, giving into the passion I’ve always felt. I don’t know how long he’ll be here. I won’t let my heart get involved this time, but his kiss and hands feel too good to pass up. I’m aching for a release, the kind only he can give me.
22
Roman
Harper is slamming down hangers on each rack of clothes, grumbling to herself. The smile spreading across my face is unstoppable. It’s been a week since we started doing whatever it is we’re doing. Harper forgave me just enough to not dislike me as much as she
did. I’m still not her favorite person, but I’ll get there.
She proposed that we have fun until it’s time for me to leave again. I have no intention of leaving. She doesn’t trust me enough to believe that, and I think if I told her, it would send her the other way. We’ll play this her way. For now. Then we’re doing it my way. She wants casual, easy, no feelings and no strings.
I’m going to pull her feelings from her one by one and make her realize how in love with me she actually is. The past week, she’s been trying to rip off my clothes and seduce me. It’s killing me and my balls not to give in to her. She’s so close to needing it the way I need her. Each slam of the hanger and each grumble gets me that much to closer to her. To her heart. To be being able to slam back inside of her.
I hold back a groan, running my hand down my face. Memories and fantasies of her blur together in my mind, making me impossibly hard behind my zipper. We’ve been making out like teenagers every chance we get, but I haven’t let it go any farther than that. I’m jonesing to work off some of this excess energy. My first choice would be to exhaust myself inside of Harper while listening to her scream my name. That’s not going to happen, though. She’s the reason I have all this excess energy in the first place. Back in Tennessee, I would lose myself in field work when I wanted to distract myself, but I’m not willing to leave Harper at the moment.
Kiernan’s out running surveillance on Rafael. He wants to bring in a couple more guys to cover some of Rafael’s crew. I don’t currently have the manpower to run my operations in Tennessee and here.
The chime on the door distracts me from my thoughts of Harper naked, spread out on a bed. James walks in, towering over everything in Harper’s store. He takes off his sunglasses, giving me a nod as he makes his way over to Harper. Jealously swirls through my gut as she hugs him tightly around his middle. My knuckles crack as I squeeze my fist tighter when he leans down to lay a kiss on the top of her head, and Harper gushes a hello.
“Harp,” James says, never willing to give more words than necessary. Harper told me she didn’t really know James all that well until Savannah’s ex-boyfriend got released from prison, and James and Liam didn’t let either girl out of their sight. She got to know James during those weeks. He’s Savannah’s best friend, according to Harper. I don’t know how Liam does it. I’m using every ounce of restraint I have not to rush across the shop and rip his arms away from Harper.
The bastard smirks at me over Harper’s head, probably following my thought process. He hugs Harper tighter before letting her go. He never laughs or cracks a full smile. I’d bet all my money the fucker’s laughing at me in his head. I narrow my eyes, staring at the huge arm he has draped over Harper. She turns toward me with a smile, happy her friend is visiting during the day.
My scowl leaves his arm and settles on his face. “I’m not sure Harper carries dresses in your size.”
He arches his brow as an answer. Harper looks at me, a bright, stunning smile resting on her face. “Did you know he was coming?”
James answers before I have the opportunity. “Nope.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I study his face, wondering what he’s here to lay on me. “What’s up?”
“Office.”
James and Harper start walking toward me, and when she’s close enough, I grab her hand and pull her to my side, not letting go of the grip I have on her hand. She chuckles softly. James follows behind us into the office. Harper rounds her desk, taking a seat at her chair, and I sit down on the edge of her desk, facing James.
He’s stopped in her doorway, staring at the chairs in front of the desk. I run a hand over my mouth, concealing my smile. “Sit down, man.”
He looks directly at Harper with confusion on his face. “They’re pink.”
“Aren’t they gorgeous? The velvet is so soft.”
I bite my tongue to hold my laughter as James approaches the chair slowly as if he’s worried it’s going to explode into a ball of glitter. He stands next to it, staring at it before slowly sitting and adjusting himself several times before he can comfortably fit.
A camera shutter has me turning toward Harper. She has her phone out, taking a picture of a disgruntled James. My eyes shift back toward him, barking out a laugh at the frown he has on his face. He’s glaring at Harper.
“Savannah is going to love this.” She smiles, looking down at her phone. She throws her head back in laughter when her phone chimes a moment later. Her eyes meet James across the desk, and she chokes out her words through her laughter. “Savannah says you look like a pretty princess waiting for tea time.”
James doesn’t say anything, only crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling and staring at the wall as he clenches his jaw.
“I’m just kidding, James. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
Turning his head back toward us, he slowly nods, looking at me. His intense, penetrating gaze flicks to Harper and back to me as he silently wonders if he should speak in front of her. I nod, letting James know he can speak. Dread fills my stomach; I hate that she has to hear any of this shit.
James dives straight into his intel. “Word is Santiago wasn’t grooming his son to take over.”
“What do you mean, take over?” Harper asked.
“Usually, second in command will fill the leader’s spot if something happens,” James says.
“No,” Harper whispers. “Are you saying that Santiago was part of a cartel?”
“No, babe,” James says. “I’m saying for all intents and purposes, Santiago was the cartel, at least on this side of the border.”
Harper’s mouth is agape while she processes the information.
“Sugar,” I say quietly, reminding her that she knew Rafael is the leader of the cartel.
“I know. I just didn’t realize Santiago was, too. I guess that was stupid of me.”
I reach over, taking her hand and squeezing it. Before I can reassure her more, James starts speaking again.
“Rafael kind of appeared out of nowhere and took over the cartel when Santiago was murdered. His reach is fuckin’ far, extends everywhere, including DEA. His guys never go down. He’s untouchable.”
“Murdered,” Harper gasps. “No, I was told it was a heart attack.”
James looks at me, then back to her before quietly breaking down more of the life she thought she knew. “He was murdered. Execution style.”
“How did I not know about this? Who did it?”
James shrugs as I pull out my phone to text Kiernan. His death certificate says he died of a heart attack, so I didn’t have Kiernan dig any further because it was the same as what I heard.
“How do you know?” I demand. “His death certificate says heart attack.”
James stares at me without answering—but that’s all the answer I need. He won’t give up his sources.
“My guy says Rafael appeared shortly before Santiago was taken down, tensions were thick between him and the old man. Rafael didn’t let anyone question the fact he would take over once Santiago was dead. Shit ain’t good.” James shakes his head. I wait for him to expand, but of course he doesn’t.
“What do you mean?” Harper asks, wiping tears from her eyes.
James takes a deep breath. “Santiago’s crew ran smooth as butter, from what I hear. Treated his men like kings. Rafael takes a different approach and it ain’t good.”
“What approach?” My voice is rough and lethal.
“That’s all I know.”
“What trade?” I ask.
“Mostly drugs. Typical shit from south of the border.”
“Anything else?”
James sighs when I ask my question, his penetrating stare only leaving my glower for a second to look at Harper and back to me. He flicks his eyes to Harper one last time before closing his eyes. Then he opens them and gives me the answer I was dreading.
“Don’t know for sure. Rumor is Rafael took up a new trade after his old man died, could be rumors. Girls.”<
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23
Harper
After James leaves, the rest of the day is a blur. I can’t focus on any activity or job I need to do. The only thing I can focus on is James’ words. They’re on repeat through my head.
Roman has been in and out of my office all afternoon and evening. He has a laptop set up and has been on the phone with Kiernan. I know he’s digging for more information, things my mind hasn’t even begun to process.
The second I click the lock closed on the front door, Roman drags me through the store, flicking off all the lights and out the back to his truck. I can’t bring myself to care that I didn’t close out the register for the day. It’s something I’ll regret tomorrow, but I doubt I’d even be able to process the numbers at the moment.
Once we’re at my apartment, Roman guides me to the couch, gently setting me down as he heads in the kitchen. I stare blankly at the TV until a full glass of deep red wine appears in front of my face. My body sags on a deep exhale as I take it and bring it to my lips for a taste. He sits down next to me with an open beer and slings his arm around my back, bringing me close to his chest. After laying a kiss on the top of my head, he quietly asks me a question. “Chinese?”
“Sure,” I respond. Anything would be fine, I’m not thinking about what would be good as this dark cloud hangs over my head.
When the Chinese food arrives, we eat on the floor in front of the coffee table in silence. Roman settles me back on the couch after we’re done, wrapping me tightly in his arms. His head rests against the top of mine as he smooths one hand over my hair and the other grips my hip.
“Tell me what’s going through your mind, Sugar.” Roman’s soft, soothing tone releases the floodgates for the tears to pour down my face. I bury my head in his chest and sob, fighting to gain control.
Roman patiently waits for me to settle enough to speak. His sweet murmuring finally calms me down. “Do you think my dad knew about Uncle Santiago?” This question has been weighing on my mind all day. My dad and Santiago grew up together in the foster system, often together in the same foster home. Even when they weren’t together, they remained close since they met at age five. They both said they knew everything about the other one. My mom joked that Santiago was my dad’s husband, he knew him just as well as my mom.