by Emma Renshaw
Staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, I wonder if he’s even thought about me. Did I do something? If I said something or did something wrong, I wish he would have told me. I could fix it. I could be better. Am I not good enough? Did he meet someone else?
I swipe angrily at the tears falling down into my hair when a soft knock makes me turn toward the door. I don’t bother telling whoever it is that the door is open, anyone in my family will just walk right in. “Hey, doll.”
My dad leans against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. His creased eyebrows and frown make fresh tears spring to my eyes. I know my family is worried about me. I haven’t given them any details, simply told them that Roman and I are over.
He strides across the room and sits on the edge of my bed, wiping my tears from my face. “I hate to see you cry, doll.”
He’s called me doll my entire life. The only time he calls me by name is when I’m in trouble or severely testing his patience.
I shrug my shoulders. “I think constantly crying is my new reality.”
“What happened?” He asks, wiping each tear before it falls.
I sit up bringing my comforter with me and wrapping it around my shoulders, staring at my father. A sob breaks free when I ask him the question that has been plaguing me. “Why doesn’t he love me anymore?”
“Roman? Not love you? That’s impossible.”
I suck in a giant breath, trying to compose myself so I can speak. “Open the blinds, pigs must be flying and hell is freezing over because the impossible is happening. He doesn’t love me.”
My dad shakes his head, trying to hide a smile. “Why would you think that? This is simply a new challenge for the two of you. Long distance can be tough.”
“He told me he doesn’t love me.” My heart is shattered. Roman’s cruel tone and harsh words replay in my mind. I wonder when he stopped loving me. Was it before he left for basic training? During the training? Maybe he realized how boring I am through my letters. He always thought I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. I thought he saw the real me, the one underneath the facade. Shiny, blonde hair? Check. Fashionable clothes? Check. Great GPA? Check. On the outside, I’m confident and sure, but I crumble to pieces on the inside.
“I don’t believe that for a minute, doll.”
“He said it!” I cry, gripping my hair and rocking in the blanket. I wipe my eyes against the fabric. My dad shakes his head, looking at me. His jaw is clenched and eyebrows drawn in.
“He lied,” my father insists. “I know that boy.”
“He’s never lied to me. He wouldn’t lie about this.”
“I don’t know his reasons, but I know he’s lying. Roman loves you. The kind of love that terrifies a father. The first time that boy walked into our house, your mother and I knew he was it for you. He couldn’t take his eyes away from you for more than one second. He was so protective, even in the beginning. The love you two share isn’t something you typically see in high school. It’s real. His love for you is ferocious. He’d take on anything just to be with you for a minute. I’m telling you, doll, he lied.”
I let my dad’s words soak in. I want to argue with him. Roman wouldn’t hurt me this way if he loves me. He must mean it. The distance between us started weeks ago and he chose not to come home during his leave. Roman hasn’t loved me for a while.
“You’ve barely left your room in the past few weeks except to be a zombie at school. It’s time for you to join your family again. We miss seeing your face at the dinner table. Come on, doll. Think about what I said. If I go down those stairs to dinner without you, your mother may finally kill me.”
The corners of my lips twitch for the first time in weeks. I slowly climb off the bed and follow my dad downstairs, mulling over everything he said. Is he right? Does Roman still love me? Does he have a reason?
There’s a light on in Roman’s apartment when I pull into the parking lot. Rain is pelting the windows of my car as I stare at the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. My dad’s words ran through my mind most of the night. These past weeks have been so different. This is not the Roman I know and love. Something’s going on. Love doesn’t just shut off.
I woke my parents early this morning and begged them to let me drive to see Roman. They were reluctant to let me go, yet agreed to it—only if I called every hour of the fourteen-hour drive. I should be with them right now at a play my sister’s been dying to see, but my seat will be empty. I’m going to win my love back. I’ll make him see we belong together, he’s everything to me. I have to still mean something to him. I can’t think about the alternative.
If only I could gather up enough courage to actually get out of the car and knock on the door. I roll my eyes when my cell phone rings. I already called my parents to tell them I arrived safely and in one piece, but they’re probably making sure I’m still okay. I glance down at the caller ID and smile.
“I’m sure you’ve heard where I am by now, Uncle Santiago,” I say when I answer the phone. “I promise, I’m okay. You and my parents worry too much.”
“Doll.”
My smile freezes and falls away when I hear Uncle Santiago’s choked word. “Are you okay?”
“Where are you, doll?”
“I’m at Roman’s place in South Carolina. What’s going on? What’s happening?” Fear slides into my stomach. My teeth start chattering despite the warm temperature.
He takes a deep breath before he begins speaking. “I have to tell you something, but first I need you to agree to something.”
“What’s going on?” I ask through my chattering teeth.
“Harper, Doll, I need you to agree to what I’m going to ask of you.”
“Okay.”
“Roman’s going to drive you home, right away. I will pay for his plane ticket back home.”
“Okay,” I say again, confused.
“Do you agree?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Another choked sound comes through the line. “Dammit. I don’t want to do this over the phone.”
I stay quiet, terrified of what’s coming. I think I already know, though, but it’s too awful to think about it, to admit even in my own mind. I’m unwilling to think anything until I hear the words from Uncle Santiago.
“They’re dead.” A soft sob breaks his words as he struggles to speak.
“Who?” I ask, already shaking my head as the first tear slips down my cheek.
“All of them.”
“No,” I whisper. My parents’ and Sadie’s faces flash through my mind. “You can’t mean…” I can’t even finish the words. It’s not true. It’s not. It’s not. The hardness of the steering wheel against my forehead holds me in place as tears fall freely down my cheeks. My body shakes as I inhale on a sob.
This isn’t true.
“Who?” I ask, hoping he means someone else. Anyone else. I hate myself for hoping someone else is dead besides my family. I should be hoping no one is dead, but someone is. People are. It just can’t be my family.
“Your parents. Sadie,” my tough, always-composed uncle cries. His voice cracks on a choked sob through my sister’s name. My head starts shaking faster, rejecting the information.
“No, you’re wrong. They’re fine,” I insist. I don’t even know what happened, but he’s wrong. He has to be wrong.
“I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so, so sorry.” He keeps repeating his words through his sniffling and harsh breathing.
“What happened?”
“They were shot,” he says, and the horror in his tone scares me.
“B—but, I just talked to them.”
“I know. Come home, Harper. Get Roman to bring you home.” I nod even though he can’t see me. He keeps talking. “I’m at the police station. I need you to come home.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“I love you, doll.”
I nod, unable to speak, unable to tell him I love him, too. The call ends before I can muster the words. I
stare at the light in Roman’s apartment again, needing him now more than ever. The rain drowns me as soon as I step out from the car. The never-ending tears slide down my face and mix with the rain. I sprint to his door, pounding on it, silently begging him to open. I’m staring at my shoes when the door opens.
“Roman,” I say, my voice breaking. When I look up, it’s not Roman’s dark eyes I see, though. It’s a girl. A woman. She looks so much older than I am. She’s standing in nothing but a t-shirt. A t-shirt with my high school’s insignia. It’s Roman’s shirt. Each thing I notice comes into my mind slowly as I process what I’m seeing.
I stare at her, wondering who she is. The tears haven’t stopped flowing. She smirks at me, clearly amused by the drowned rat in front of her. Long and slender legs peek out from the shirt she’s wearing. Her long hair is perfectly curled but mussed as if she just had the greatest sex of her life. Denial lodges itself in my throat. This can’t be happening.
“Is–is Roman here?” I stutter.
“No, he went to get us some food. We worked up quite the appetite.” She winks at me.
“Who are you?”
“Harper,” I answer automatically, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I really need to talk to him.”
“Harper?” She chuckles quietly when she says my name. I stare at her again. She’s still smirking as she looks me up and down. “He said you were pathetic but I didn’t think anyone could possibly be as pathetic as he described.”
I take a step away from her, the rain hitting my back. He told her I’m pathetic? I gulp, staring at her again, seeing her messy hair and bright eyes in a completely new light. The reality swallows me whole and leaves me empty.
“He said that?” I ask quietly.
“He said a lot of things about you, Harper. Naive little girl, thinking a man like that could be interested in you. Sure, you entertained him but you’re nothing now. You should have seen him trying to hold in his laughter when he broke up with you.”
I take another step back, feeling like she’s hitting me with each of her words. My knees are quaking so hard, I’m terrified they’ll give out right in front of her.
“You were there?”
“Of course, I was. He can’t get enough of me and I can’t get enough of him.”
My entire body starts trembling as my heart breaks even more. My family is dead. The boy I’m in love with thinks I’m pathetic. He’s been cheating on me. I turn to run back to my car when her words stop me. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
I turn back toward her, watching her laugh as I stand in the rain, completely soaked and broken. “Please don’t,” I yell before running to my car and peeling out of the parking lot.
18
Roman
Harper hasn’t said a word to me in a week. Not. One. Single. Fucking. Word. I’ve been glued to her side but the silence is grating on my damn nerves. I know she’s battling with something and I’ve tried to give her space. She’s the person that needs to work things out before approaching you with a fight. I’m here, though. And I’m ready for a fight. We need to fight. After we fight, I can strip her bare and sink into her, making up for all the lost time.
Not one word for a fucking week, though, is driving me up the fucking wall. Harper is jogging on a treadmill next to Savannah while they chat. I’m beating the shit out of a bag, sick of the silence she’s given me. Not only is she silent, but she will barely fucking look at me. And she’s taunting me with sexy-as-sin dresses. Every meal we’ve had together, she stares at the table, she won’t acknowledge when I speak, and she rips her elbow away when I tried to guide her as we’re walking. Completely ignoring me except for those dresses. And they’re all in red.
Red is my fucking weakness against her skin and blonde hair. I have to stop myself from sinking to my knees when she comes out of her room every morning wearing these dresses. They’re classy enough for work, just teasing me with pieces of skin. Every morning I groan in pleasure and displeasure while watching her sway her ass to the kitchen. And each morning a tiny smirk will play on her lips. I never see it full on, though, because she won’t show me her face, just her profile.
I know the game she’s playing. She wants me to break, leave, and never come back. Not fucking happening, Sugar. I’m here to stay. I’ll live the rest of my life on that damn couch and follow her around, working on nothing but a laptop. I’ll give up field work, I’ll ride a fucking desk and follow her around. I’m not leaving. I’ll stay after the danger is gone. I’ll stay when I handle Rafael and make sure he never comes near her again. She can wear a red fucking dress every day for the rest of her life and I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. I pound the bag, jabbing each of my thoughts. My knuckles are stinging and cracking, getting blood on the bag. I don’t care about James’ rules for pounding on the bag with bare knuckles. I need the pain, need the release.
My eyes flick up to Harper every few seconds. She hasn’t looked my way once. Savannah keeps looking toward me and talking to Harper. I’m done with this. You want to play, Sugar? Let’s fucking play. I rip off my shirt and make sure my shorts are riding low on my hips. Harper used to worship my chest and shoulders. I was a scrawny kid compared to what I am now. I pound the bag harder. My eyes find Harper and Savannah on the treadmills again and I can’t help but smile when Savannah’s eyes widen. She leans over, never losing her pace as she whispers something to Harper. Her hands come down the bars of the treadmill, squeezing them so tightly, I see her knuckles turning white. Her head slowly starts to swing my way.
Finally. When her amber eyes meet mine, I stop the swinging bag with my fist and just stare at her. Our eyes are locked. I can see her pain all the way from across the gym. Let me erase it, Sugar. Ever so slowly, her eyes start to slide down my face, lingering on my lips before they slip to my chest. She stumbles for a split second, gripping the handles even tighter. Her pace slows as she stares at my naked chest and I watch hers rise and fall faster. I grin when her skin breaks into a deep red flush. Her chest is heaving, snagging my full attention. Flicking my eyes up to hers, I find her staring at mine. Sweeping my tongue over my lips, wishing they were caressing her skin, I refuse to look away from her or break this connection. Pure lust replaces the pain in her eyes.
Lust. I can work with that.
Harper breaks our connection, looking back to Savannah and whispering furiously. Savannah is giggling and keeps flashing her eyes over to me. After quickly wiping down the bag, I march over to Harper, intent on getting her to speak to me. Even if it is only one word. I am dying to hear her sweet voice. The glimpses I’ve been getting over the week—as she talks to anyone who is not me—have been tearing me apart.
I slam my hand down on the stop button, jerking her to a halt. Her eyes find mine. And, they’re on fire. Lust and rage are creating havoc and making them burn for me. I release a breath, satisfied she’s looking at me and I’m right in front of her.
“Sugar,” I drawl her name slowly, reverently, just like I would say it if I were coming inside of her. I flick my eyes to Savannah, quickly nodding a greeting. “Savannah.”
Savannah grins, flipping her eyes back and forth between us like she’s at a tennis match.
My entire chest fills with warmth only Harper can provide when she says one word. “Roman.” Her word may have been growled and feral, but it was directed at me. And it was my name on her lips. I’ll take my name coming out of her mouth any way I can get it.
“It’s time.”
She grits her teeth in frustration as her hands ball into fists at her side. “I’m not done. I’m still working out.”
“We can do another type of workout at home,” I say, shooting her a grin.
Savannah starts laughing, drawing attention to us. Her laugh is so loud and distinctive, it surprises me that something like that can come out of her.
“I’m not sleeping with you, Roman.”
My eyes slide back to Harper as I lean toward her. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Suga
r. I meant we can work out at home.”
“Sure, you did.” Harper looks away from me, causing Savannah to laugh even louder. Liam comes up to her treadmill, taking a page from my book and pressing the stop button on her treadmill. He leans over, skimming his nose along her neck and muttering into her skin. “I live for that sound, gorgeous.”
When I look back at Harper, I’m surprised to find longing on her face as she stares at her best friend and Liam. That longing better not be for Liam. I didn’t pick anything up when I met them. I smirk, remembering how cute Harper was as she ignored me while I sat next to her, chatting away with her friends.
“It’s time, Sugar,” I repeat, making sure my tone conveys no arguments. It’s happening and it’s happening now.
Harper turns toward me, and the longing in her eyes has only intensified as she stares at me. She doesn’t want Liam. She wants what Savannah and Liam have. Sugar, I’m going to do everything in my power to make you mine again.
“Time for us to have that fight.” I clarify, adding to myself silently, after we fight, we’re definitely going to make up. Naked.
19
Harper
Roman’s steps echo behind me up the stairs and down my hallway. My eyes are cast down, staring at my feet taking each step toward my apartment. I’m walking as slowly as I can without crawling, not ready to have it out with Roman. All week I successfully avoided saying anything to him. Only letting myself look at him when I was certain his eyes were somewhere else. Then he had to switch the tables on me today, using my own game against me. I know what I’ve been doing, wearing red all week. I know how it drives him wild, but he knows how much I’ve always loved his chest.
My head snaps up when I hear Roman curse behind me and come to a complete stop. A man I’ve never seen before is casually leaning against my door, flipping his keys around his finger before catching them in his palm and then starting over. Flip. Catch. Flip. Catch. He’s staring at me, scanning my body from head to toe with a gigantic grin on his face like he knows a secret. Roman runs into my back since I stopped abruptly.
