Roman (Raleigh Raptors Book 2)

by Samantha Whiskey

  My eyes narrowed on his perfect-life-having face. “I can’t give her what she wants. What kind of selfish prick makes his woman sacrifice her dreams? This isn’t about her wanting to volunteer in a third world country, Nixon. There’s no compromise to be had here. Either she wants me, or she doesn’t.”

  “Then at least have that conversation with her. The way you two left it…you’re both a mess.” Nixon sighed.

  “You’ve seen her?” Holy shit did that sting.

  “Liberty has.”

  I shook my head, and noticed Hendrix’s jaw ticking. “What, you too?”

  “I’m the last fucking person to give relationship advice. My longest relationship includes me calling her an uber. But, I will say that you two are pretty damned perfect together if not for this one thing.”

  “Yeah, well, this one thing is her everything, and if she’d wanted to talk, she would have shown up or called. She has a fucking key.”

  We fell into an awkward silence.

  “And on that note, go team?” Nixon gave me a sarcastic thumbs up.

  “We’re going to win today,” I said with a decisive nod. “Something has to go my way.”

  We lost.

  It wasn’t because Baker tripped, or I ran too slow, or any other tangible reason. We simply got outplayed.

  Our season ended, and I drove home, growing a little more numb with each passing mile. Apparently, my soul had a pain limit, and I’d reached it. There was nothing left to feel.

  I hit the remote for the gate, then drove through after it swung open. I’d bought this huge house and all this land…for what? At the time, I’d figured I could move Mom and Dad in when they’d need care, but what about until then?

  I rounded the curve, and my heart stopped, then pounded.

  Teagan’s car was parked in front of the house.

  I steadied my hands but not my heartbeat as I parked and headed inside, only to find Teagan walking in from the back yard at the same time.

  Her eyes flew wide, and her lips parted as Walt pushed by her. I dropped to my haunches out of pure habit, rubbing him behind the ears.

  “Sorry. I. Um…” Teagan swallowed and shook her head. “I just took him out.”

  “That’s okay.” That’s okay? That’s the best I could come up with? Hope welled in my chest, but I shut that shit down.

  “I listened to the game,” she said softly, closing the door behind her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It happens.” I stood slowly, taking in everything about her. She’d lost a little weight, which meant she wasn’t eating, and her face was pale…drawn, like she hadn’t been sleeping.

  “I know how badly you wanted it.” She wrung her hands, her fingers sliding over the skin where her ring used to be.

  “Everyone wants it. It’s just part of the game.” Fuck, I’d missed her. Just seeing her had my lungs simultaneously expanding fully for the first time in weeks and screaming in pain. “Look, I’m really happy to see you, T, but what are you doing here?”

  She blinked rapidly and flushed. “Oh. Right. I sold one of the pieces that I left here. I’d just finished it right before…”

  “Right before you left me?” I finished when she didn’t.

  She nodded, having the nerve to look crushed. “I didn’t want to bother you,” she said as she walked past me to grab the massive canvas that she must have brought down from the studio before I got there. It was the blue one. The one she’d been painting when I’d made love to her in the studio after that away game.

  My soul felt like it was being ripped out of my body, screaming in protest that she wasn’t just selling a piece of her art—she was selling us.

  “I figured I’d be gone before you got home,” she admitted, gripping the edges of the canvas and holding it between us like a shield.

  Funny, she’d never needed protection against me before.

  “So, that’s it?” I leaned against the wall and tucked my hands into my pockets. “This is how twenty-two years of friendship and love ends? With you sneaking around so you don’t have to see me?” My lungs kept moving, kept drawing air, each one was more agonizing than the last.

  “Roman…” Her face crumpled. “I thought this would make it easier.”

  “Easier?” I knocked my head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “How can you even stand there, looking like you’re wrecked? Looking exactly how I feel, and say that you thought not seeing me would be easier?”

  “You have no idea how I feel!” She yelled, letting the canvas fall against the wall and marched toward me. “You have no idea how impossible this is! How much it hurts! How hard it is to walk away from you when I love you!”

  My gaze flew to meet hers. She still loved me?

  There it was—the fire in her eyes, the passion that ignited so easily between us.

  I pushed off the wall and stalked forward. She retreated, her breath hitching slightly when her back hit the counter of the kitchen island.

  “Roman,” she whispered, staring at my lips.

  “You love me.” I caged her in, gripping the cool granite on either side of her body.

  “That was never up for debate.” She lifted her hands to my chest as I pressed my body against hers. Fuck, I wanted her. Even if she didn’t want me, she’d always own me.

  “Then don’t do this.”

  “Ro—”

  “T, don’t do this,” I begged, letting my forehead rest against hers. “I love you. You love me. I know I’m not what you deserve. I’ll never be what you deserve, but there’s a compromise here if we can find it.”

  “There isn’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

  “Sure there is.” I breathed in her scent and tried to memorize the feel of her curves. “You want to carry a baby, then we’ll get a donor.”

  “Oh, God.” She melted. That little well of hope started to glow in my chest.

  “Teagan, this isn’t something that we just walk away from. This is worth fighting for.” My hands moved inward, grazing her waist.

  “It wouldn’t be the same.” Her eyes opened, and tears tracked down her cheeks, breaking me like nothing else could have.

  “It would be whatever we want it to be.”

  She looked up at me, haunted and…shit, she looked defeated. My stomach sank as the truth of the matter sunk in.

  “But you don’t want it—what we have,” I said quietly as my heart broke all over again. “If you wanted it, you’d fight. But you’re just looking for any reason, aren’t you?”

  Maybe Baker had been right—I wasn’t even a rebound, I’d been a phase. I’d been an outfit she’d tried on because she’d always wondered what it would be like to wear me. She might love me, but she wasn’t in love with me. Not the way that I loved her.

  She tensed between my arms, and her hands fell away from my chest. “If you love me like you think you do, you will let me go.”

  I’d preferred the freight train of a hit that I’d taken back before New Years to this excruciating grief ripping me in two.

  “Roman. Let me go,” she begged.

  Holy shit, I had her pinned to the counter, and she’d asked me not once, but twice to move. I put my hands up and backed away. This was Teagan, and I’d never force her—or any woman—to stay when she so obviously wanted to go.

  Hell, she’d gone to lengths to be sure she wouldn’t see me while she was here.

  She batted away another tear and forced a smile as she put something on the counter with an audible click. “It’s better this way.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  Her eyes flashed with hurt. “You’ll see.”

  She took the widest path possible around me, then picked up the canvas and walked out the front door. The sound of it shutting felt more final than when she’d slipped the ring off, but that couldn’t be it, could it?

  Walt whined, and I reached for him absentmindedly, stroking his fur.

  “She’ll be back,” I muttered.
She had to be. This wasn’t how we were supposed to end. But then my eyes landed on the counter, and my knees gave out.

  She wasn’t coming back.

  She’d left her key.

  20

  Teagan

  Me: I need you to messenger over the items I’ve been asking for.

  I typed out the fast text, my body rushing with adrenaline as I followed the text with my apartment address and gate code for the delivery driver.

  Me: I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do. You owe me those things.

  Rick: Fine.

  I glared at the screen before setting my phone on the kitchen counter, sparing a quick minute to check the security system I’d had installed a couple of weeks ago.

  I raked my fingers through my hair, my heart still shredded from seeing Roman yesterday. Something about the anger in his eyes, the devastation in his voice…it had broken me in a way I didn’t think possible.

  When he’d begged me to not do this to us? When his body had been flush with mine? I thought I’d lose the resolve I’d gathered. For a second, with him so close, his scent, the love and hope shining through his eye...God, I’d wanted to stop it right there. Wanted to fall apart in his arms, tell him the truth, but I couldn’t be reckless with his safety.

  And seeing him, it had shifted something inside me. Some deep resolve I couldn’t shake and didn’t want to.

  I knew what needed to be done.

  Before both of us slipped past the point of no return. And if it cost me everything? Then it was at least worth the risk.

  Because Roman was worth everything to me.

  I sucked in a sharp breath, propping my iPad up on the counter, pulling up my Instagram profile. I had more followers than ever after the pictures I’d posted of Roman and me, but I resisted the urge to get lost looking at the candid shots.

  Fuck, I missed him.

  Instead, I checked a few emails, then went to my room to change. I’d had to deliver a painting to a customer earlier, and it was beyond time for yoga pants and my custom Raptors T-shirt I’d had made last month—the one with Padilla scrawled across the back.

  Returning to the kitchen, I pulled out my cast iron skillet to start a quick dinner, but I heard a soft click from the patio. Followed by the beep-beep from the security system alerting me that the back door had been opened and shut.

  Ice shot through my blood, but I willed it to calm as I whirled around just in time to see Rick set a box down on my kitchen counter.

  “What the hell?” I snapped, but my eyes widened on the box.

  The shoebox.

  The one I’d hidden from him. The one I’d asked him to messenger to me. The one and only possession worth a damn to me out of everything I’d left at his house.

  “Don’t know why you’d want this old box of crap,” he said, leaning against my counter with a satisfied grin on his face.

  I shifted the iPad I’d left on the counter, clicking a few buttons to occupy my hands. To calm my mind.

  This is your only shot at the truth.

  I reached for my phone in my pocket, covertly hitting Roman’s contact in my favorites—I knew the motions without having to look at the screen. I sat the phone screen down on the counter, keeping my glare on Rick. He tracked the move, a small delight rushing through his eyes, like me sitting the phone down was a peace offering. A show of faith that I didn’t need to call for help.

  God, he was delusional.

  “Why the hell did you just come through my back door, Rick?” I finally asked, layering my tone with equal parts bite and frustration. My muscles trembled from the adrenaline rushing my veins.

  If he picked up, Roman would call the police. He’d hear what was going on right now, call them, and get to me. He was only fifteen minutes away.

  I couldn’t call the police—Rick would stop me before I could explain the situation to them. He’d smooth things over, painting me as an irrational woman with a vendetta. He’d always been able to charm his way out of anything. No, I’d planned for this, expected this. And I needed proof.

  Rick tapped the shoebox. “You said you wanted this.”

  “I told you to messenger it.”

  “Please,” Rick said. “For this worthless crap? You practically begged me to come over.”

  “How did you get that from me asking for my things back?”

  “It was as good as an invitation,” he said, pushing off my counter and stalking toward me. I backed up near the stove, swallowing hard.

  “You wish, Rick.” I showed my disgust. “It’s over between us. It’s been over.”

  That vein in his neck flexed as he stopped an arm’s length away. He blew out a breath. “I’m really over this tough girl act, Teagan. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I did everything you asked,” I said.

  He furrowed his brow.

  “The threats?” I pushed. “Pulling that block to intentionally hurt Roman—your own fucking teammate?” I shook my head. “I did what you said. I left him. I’ve stayed away. That means you don’t hurt him, and it means you leave me the hell alone.”

  Rick chuckled. “Leaving you alone was never part of the agreement.” He nudged the box toward me. “This is a gift for doing what you’re told.”

  I glared at him, rage sizzling beneath my skin. “These are my personal belongings,” I snapped. “Not a gift.”

  “Why is this junk so damn important?” He asked, and I tried not to smile at the edge to his tone. Good, he was getting closer to showing the monster behind the mask.

  I flipped the lid off the box, digging past notes and concert-ticket stubs until my fingers grazed a thin string of metal. I pulled out the necklace, biting back a cry at the sight of the tarnished old locket.

  “That?” Rick asked. “That was more important than any of the jewelry I gave you?”

  I unclasped the locket and secured it around my neck. “I’ve had this since I was ten years old,” I said, sighing as the old locket settled against the center of my chest. I flicked it open, sparing only a glance at the picture inside—Roman when he was ten, smiling that goofy grin that always made me laugh.

  Rick’s eyes narrowed, but he only tilted his head.

  “Roman,” I explained. “He gave it to me when we were kids because I was having nightmares.” I held up the locket. “I slept in this, and the monsters disappeared,” I said, allowing all my love for the man to swirl around the story. I fingered the piece on my chest, grinning up at Rick. “No piece of jewelry has ever meant more to me.”

  “It’s worthless,” Rick snapped.

  “It’s not,” I said, shifting my feet as he came closer. “It represents a life-long friendship. A timeless love.”

  Rick’s jaw ticked as he stopped an inch away from me now. I held my ground despite the panic clawing at my heart. He was in the perfect position now, nothing to hide.

  God, I hoped Roman had picked up when I’d dialed.

  I hoped he could hear this.

  Hoped he’d get the cops.

  If not?

  Well, fuck. Maybe this plan wasn’t as brilliant as I thought, but at least the truth would be out.

  “That shit doesn’t matter,” he seethed. “And that piece of crap isn’t worth the gas money it took me to get here.”

  “It’s worth more than anything you could ever buy,” I snapped, noting the fire in his eyes. The anger churning and boiling near the surface. It wouldn’t be long now.

  “Because he is worth more,” I continued, knowing I was pushing him. Provoking him to show that monster, the one he’d kept behind closed doors and used to control me.

  Not-so-fun side effect of being front row and center to the man behind the mask, I knew how to avoid a blow-up just as well as I knew how to incite one. I’d never had reason to before now.

  “Don’t,” he warned, his fists curled at his sides as he towered over me.

  I merely lifted my chin. “Roman is more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

  I
felt the crack of pain before I saw him move—a slice of heat across my left cheek that felt like the tip of a whip had split the skin.

  “That’s one,” Rick spat, his hand still raised from the swing.

  I cupped my cheek, my head zinging from the pain of the hit I’d intentionally not blocked. And I could’ve, now, thanks to Drew. Thanks to the personal lessons I’d continued to take even after I’d been forced to leave Roman. But tonight wasn’t about handing Rick his ass, even though I sure as fuck wanted to.

  “Trust me when I say you won’t get another,” he continued.

  My muscles trembled, but I knew how strong I was. I could survive this and in the end? The world would know the real Rick Baker.

  “Coward,” I hissed, dropping my hand to reveal the blood I felt trickling down my skin. “You feel like a big man now? Hitting me?” I trailed my eyes below his waist and back up again, my lips a sneer. “Hitting me won’t lengthen your dick, you know?”

  His eyes flared, his hands on my throat in an instant.

  Fuck, why was it always the throat?

  The strength in his hands was enough to draw a yelp from my lips as he squeezed. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he said, his spit spraying my face as his body shook with anger. “You’ll learn to keep your mouth shut, Teagan.” He nodded, tightening his grip for emphasis. “And you’ll remember what it’s like to love me. You’ll behave. You’ll be everything you were in the beginning. Everything you were supposed to be.”

  I dug my fingers into his forearms, but he didn’t even flinch.

  I tried to grab a breath, but it felt like sucking in air through a straw.

  “If you don’t?” He said, his eyes flaring with rage. “It won’t be you that suffers, but Padilla. I’ll pull a block at the right time. I did it once, and I can do it again. The brain can only survive so many bad hits.”

  I stopped clawing at his skin, my muscles weakening. I tried to channel Drew’s voice…how the hell did I get out of a forward assault? My mind was fuzzy as I tried and failed to remember the move, and my arms dropped, suddenly heavy. My knuckles grazed the edge of the stove, catching on the cast iron skillet I’d left out.