by S. M. Soto
“No!” I choke.
“Olivia?”
My chest tightens painfully, keeping me from opening my mouth and responding. I run to the bathroom door and shut it, turning the lock, before he can see me. I get a glance at myself in the mirror, and I cringe. Tear tracks stain my cheeks, and my skin looks ghastly white.
“Olivia, are you all right?” Roman asks, his knuckles rapping on the door. I clamp a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my heavy breathing. I force myself to inhale deep, stabilizing breaths, until my lungs expand just enough that I can respond.
“I’m s-sorry, I’m fine. I was feeling sick. Why don’t you and Ryder eat without me tonight?”
I expect to hear a response or his boots retreating, but they don’t. “Open the door,” he demands.
The sigh that expels from my lips is a choppy wheeze of air. “I’m fine, Roman. I swear. I think it was something I ate earlier. I’ll be okay.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
I can hear the skepticism in his tone. “You would sound like this, too, if you were on the toilet, Rome!” I snap, just wanting him to take the hint and go.
He lets out a deep sigh, and I hear a thud against the door, which I can only imagine is his head resting there. “You’ll call me once you’re feeling better?”
“I promise.”
I wait a while longer, until I hear the sound of his boots retreating. Collapsing against the wall in the bathroom, I slide down to the floor. With my arms resting on my knees, my heart drops, when I see the splotchy colors wrapped around my wrist. Tears spring to my eyes, and I press my lips together, trying to remain calm. Where Travis grabbed me, there is now a bruise marring my skin. My arms begin to shake, and a warning pain shoots through my heart.
He was the one who broke into my house that night.
I know it.
How far would he have gone if Roman hadn’t come over? “I could’ve had you already,” he had said. It didn’t make sense until now.
Showing up at my house at all hours uninvited. I should’ve known. I should’ve guessed it was him. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? His mood swings at work, the way he was acting whenever I turned him down—those were all signs. My hands tremble, as they weave into my hair, and I drop my head between my knees and sob.
Because, as much as I’d like to run next door and fall into Roman’s arms, I can’t. The first thing he’d do is go after Travis. He won’t care that I have no proof or anything to base my opinion on. And if he sees the marks on my skin, he’ll lose it. He won’t be thinking about Ryder and everything they went through to get him back. He’ll just be thinking about hurting Travis, and knowing my boss, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t care who he hurts in the process. He’ll press charges, Roman will lose Ryder, and I’ll never forgive myself.
On the bathroom floor, I make a deal with myself. A deal that will not affect Roman and Ryder.
“Girls Love Beyoncé”—Drake
With a glare painted on my face, I stand there, arms perched on the windowsill, as I stare into Olivia’s darkened bedroom. It’s night three that I still haven’t seen her. She comes home from work, later than usual, and she leaves before I’m out of the house with Ryder.
Usually, she packs us both breakfast on the way out, but ever since the other night, she’s damn near disappeared.
“Hey, Ro. Just wanted to say good night,” Ryder says, softly thumping his hand on the door. Turning, I find him leaning against the doorjamb, watching me with questions in his eyes. His gaze darts to the house next door.
“Are you guys fighting or something?”
I glance at Olivia’s house, my brows pulling low. I didn’t think we were fighting, but I’m not great at relationships. I could’ve done something that pissed her off, but I have no way of knowing.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
My little brother scratches at the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of me fighting with Olivia.
“All right, well, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Ry. Let me know if you need anything.”
His lips twist into a crooked grin. I ask the same thing every night, and his response is always the same. “I will.” But he never does.
When I hear his footsteps retreat and the door close behind him, I face back toward Olivia’s house. She’s avoiding me. I just wish I knew why. Every time I go over and knock on her door, she doesn’t answer it, but when it comes to calling and texts? She answers right away.
I’m not usually one to sit back and let shit like this play out, but I’m so out of my element here, and I don’t exactly know how to go about handling this. Do I go over and demand she open the door and let me in? What if this distance is because she just can’t adjust to being around Ryder? Or worse, could it be that asshole Travis? Is something going on between them? She’s been coming home later than usual. Olivia doesn’t strike me as the type to do that, but you can never be too sure. Especially with the way she’s acting.
There’s a long list of shit that’s bothering me, but at the top of that list is the curtains in her bedroom. They’re shut. And those fucking curtains are never closed. I don’t know what changed, what happened that made her suddenly close them. It feels like her way of closing me out. And I fucking hate it.
With a frustrated growl, I reach for my phone, shooting off a text to her.
Roman: Come over?
Her response is immediate.
Olivia: I’m already in bed. I had a really long day. Talk tomorrow?
My grip tightens around my phone, and I chuck it at my bed. It slams against the leather headboard, flopping back lifelessly onto the pillows.
Saying to hell with it, I grab my house keys and march next door. I leave Max back at home with Ryder, and once I’m on her doorstep, I ring the doorbell.
Silence.
Nothing but silence.
Growing agitated, I start pounding on the door. “Olivia, open the door. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
This time, I hear footfalls on the other side of the wood. I can practically envision her peeking through the peephole, on her tiptoes watching me. When she still doesn’t open the door, I resort to knocking again.
“Olivia, I’m not kidding. I’ll wait here all night if I have to. You gotta come out sometime.”
I hear her deep sigh, then the click of the lock mechanism. She opens the door, but only slightly, since the chain lock is still attached at the top. My lips thin into a grim line. For someone who swore she was tired, she doesn’t look all that exhausted.
“Rome, I told you I was tired. Can’t we talk tomorrow?”
Gripping the doorframe, I brace my weight there, trying like hell not to lose my shit with her. I’m becoming increasingly impatient, the longer she leaves me standing out here.
“That doesn’t work for me, Liv. Let me in.”
Heaving a sigh, Olivia closes the door softly, and I hear the chain slide across. When she opens it again, her eyes are looking at everything and anything but me. Taking the door from her, I close it behind me, invading her space.
“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”
She crosses her arms over her chest as though she’s shielding herself from me, and I don’t like it one bit. “There’s nothing going on, Rome. Is it a crime to be tired?”
“Tired? You’re tired?” I scoff. “That’s not what this is, Olivia. If this thing, whatever this is between us is done, then just fucking say it. Don’t drag this out and make it more than it needs to be.”
Her eyes swing up to mine, wide with surprise and filled with tears. “Roman, no! That’s not it at all. How could you possibly think I want out? I care about you. So much.”
Her bottom lip trembles, and it only serves to fuel my frustration and my confusion where she’s concerned. “How can I think that? You’ve been avoiding me for days. What the hell else am I supposed to think, Olivia?”
Her shoulders sag. “I�
�ve just…I’ve been busy, and I’m tired.”
“You don’t think I’m tired, Olivia? Jesus Christ, I still find time to talk to you, though, don’t I? Why don’t you just be honest? Is it Travis? You’ve been spending an awful lot of time at the clinic.”
All the color drains from her face, and she stumbles back, like I’ve struck her. “Travis? How could you possibly think that?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” I yell. It’s the first time I’ve ever yelled at her since we’ve been together. A tear slides down her cheek, and she uncrosses her arms, swiping at it angrily.
“There is nothing going on with Travis, you asshole! Isn’t it obvious how I feel about you? Jesus, Roman. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’ve just needed—”
I’m not processing any of her words. My gaze is honed in on her arm. Something intense seizes in my gut, churning violently. I feel it crawl into my chest, and I feel it squeeze my heart and lungs in a vise.
“What the fuck is that?”
She freezes, and when she follows the trajectory of my gaze, her mouth snaps shut, and I swear I see all the color drain from her face. Ignoring the pain that’s suddenly a living, breathing thing in my chest, I cross the room and reach out for her arm. When she flinches, I grit my back teeth together so hard, I swear I hear a crack.
She must realize she flinches, because she shakes her head, more tears falling. Her eyes glimmer with apologies, and her bottom lip trembles.
“I’m sorry. So sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t mean to do that.” My brows dip into a frown that feels like it embeds itself permanently on my face. “What happened to your arm?”
She glances down at her arm and holds it out between us. My jaw clenches with anger, and my nostrils flare. The bruise is clearly in the shape of a hand, which means someone grabbed her. Someone touched my girl.
Olivia continues staring down, and I can tell she’s trying to work through possible answers to the question, anything but the truth.
“Olivia.” The warning note in my tone is clear.
“It was Travis.” She whispers so low, I’m not sure I heard her correctly, but when she looks up at me, and I see the pain in her eyes, I know I heard her just fine.
“When did this happen?” I’m teetering on the edge of violence. So close to losing my shit. She must sense it because she stays silent. The way she’s been acting, her avoidance, it suddenly makes sense.
“The other night, when you said you were sick. That’s when it happened, didn’t it?” Her chin quivers, and I know I’m right. “That son of a bitch. I’m going to fucking kill him,” I growl, spinning on my heels.
“Roman, no!” Her hands clamp around my arm, and she tugs, trying to keep me still. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You can’t—”
“How the fuck could you keep this from me? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of you and Ryder! Or did you forget about him in your sudden bout of anger?” she challenges.
I grit my teeth. “Don’t do that. I always think about him. He’s the only fucking thing I care about.”
I regret the words, as soon as I say them.
She flinches but recovers quickly. “I’m handling it. That was why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to do something stupid.”
“How are you handling it? Please, enlighten me, because the fact that this fucker is even still breathing is unacceptable.”
“You can’t resort to violence for everything, Roman. This is my problem.”
“Like hell it is!” I snap. “He touched what is mine, and he’s going to fucking pay for it.”
Her eyes narrow, some color climbing back into her cheeks from how loud we’re yelling. “Yours? I’m not your property, Roman. I am my own person.”
“You’re mine, Olivia. Whether you fucking like it or not. And I don’t take kindly to people touching what’s mine.”
Her lips thin into a grim line. “Get out.”
I laugh. “You got another thing coming if you think I’m leaving, sweetheart.”
“You’re being an asshole right now.”
I step into her, sliding my hand around her slender neck, and I tug her into me roughly. She lets out a squeak of surprise but doesn’t fight me. “What else is new, babe? This is me. Fucking deal with it. Now, you’re going to tell me the story, the whole goddamn story of how that happened,” I say, jerking my chin toward her wrist. “No more of this bullshit distance.”
Her gaze narrows. “You can’t just order me around, dickhead. I want to be alone.”
My lips twist into a smirk. “Too bad. You either talk now, or you talk at my place. The choice is yours.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve cooled off.”
“So, my place then?” I ask, ignoring her.
“Are you even listening to me?”
Before she can utter any more excuses, I bend, grasping her legs, and lift, tossing her over my shoulder. Olivia lets out a scream.
“Roman! Put me down!”
“Nope.” I pop the p just to be a real son of a bitch. Grasping her keys off her table, I lock the door behind us and cross our lawns.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this. We have neighbors, and it’s cold!”
“Should’ve done things my way then, sweetheart.”
“Ugh! Half of my ass is hanging out,” she hisses.
I glance up, and, sure enough, half of her ass cheek is exposed in those little sleep shorts she has on. I swat said cheek and grin when she yelps. Once we get inside the house, I set her down, and she shoots me a glare.
“You’re a Neanderthal, you know that?”
“And you’re stubborn.” I shrug, jutting my hands on my hips.
“You’re such an ass. I hate you.”
“I’ve heard it all before, baby. Now get your ass in the bedroom and start talking, or I really will start losing my shit.”
Olivia deflates. Turning on her heels, she heads into my bedroom, glancing at Ryder’s closed door, as she passes. I follow her, closing the bedroom door softly behind us, and then cross my arms over my chest, waiting for her to talk.
With a tired sigh, Olivia climbs onto my bed and leans against the headboard, avoiding my gaze. “I went to pick up the food for us when I was grabbed from behind. Travis cornered me. The mark is from him grabbing me. I told him he was hurting me, but he was so hung up on me. He was saying all this stuff about me being a tease, and I just…I don’t know. I freaked out.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. I inhale deep breaths, trying to remain calm, but I can feel the red haze of rage, seeping into my vision. All I want to do is rip the motherfucker apart with my bare hands, for even thinking about touching my girl.
“Did he…?” I grit my teeth, forcing the words out. “Did he do anything else?”
She finally looks at me, a softness entering her eyes, and shakes her head. “No. He didn’t. He, uh, he did try to kiss me, but I kneed him in the groin, and I drove off.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me, Olivia? Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry. I freaked out. I didn’t want you to do something stupid. You have Ryder to think about now, and I didn’t want to be the reason anything happened.”
I scrub a rough hand down my face and close the distance between us. I drop down next to her on the bed. She shifts toward me, those hazel eyes searching mine.
“I know I have Ryder to think about now. There’s not a moment when he doesn’t cross my mind, but you mean something to me, Sunshine. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I need to know when something like this happens. You have to trust that I’ll be able to put my anger aside and do what’s best for everyone.”
“And what’s that?”
“Kick his fucking ass.”
She rolls her eyes. “Be serious, Roman. Please. There’s nothing we can do.”
Cupping her face in my hand, I graze my thumb along her jaw.
“I’m not going to let him get away with putting his hands on you, Olivia. That’s just not going to happen. Be angry. Hate me. I don’t care. But that’s not flying, you understand me? And for future reference, don’t lock yourself away and avoid me, just to keep the truth from me. I can handle it. Whatever it may be.”
Her bottom lip trembles, and tears start slipping down her cheeks in quick succession. “Okay,” she whispers. Something in her eyes gives me pause. Like she wants to say more. I wait her out, but she just rubs her lips together, keeping whatever it is vaulted inside.
“Come here.” I pull her into my arms, and she falls into me.
“I told Samuel about what happened. I was expecting him to be angry with me and think I was lying, but when I showed him my arm, he understood. I haven’t seen Travis since then.”
“Think he’ll try anything else?” At her silence, I tense. “He hasn’t tried anything, has he?”
She sighs. “No, but…I don’t have any proof of it, and I may be far off, but something he said that day when he cornered me. I think he’s the one who broke into my house.”
I tense. Anger fires through my veins, settling in my lips. “What did he say?” I ask slowly, trying to keep my voice even, though I feel anything but calm. She grasps my hand with hers, prying my fingers from gripping the sheets. She opens my hand, tracing my palm with her finger, while she speaks.
“He said, ‘I could’ve had you already, if I really wanted to.’ I didn’t understand it at first. Nothing about our relationship was sexual. I never once led him on. I mean, sure, at first, I thought he was cute, but I could see through him. The way he treated the other women who worked at the clinic was gross, and I didn’t want any part of it. I just wanted to work in peace. Then when I was home, after it happened, I couldn’t stop thinking about how cold he’d get when I turned him down. He’d get angry, and then he’d take it out on me at work. Then I thought back to all the times he’d shown up at the house uninvited. Every time you saw him here, I never invited him. There was always a reason he came. The only reason he knew where I lived is because he followed me home when I left my phone at work. If he really wanted to find out where I lived, he could’ve looked at my employee record, and I would like to say he wouldn’t do that, but I don’t know anymore.” She blows out a heavy sigh that practically reverberates between us. “I could be wrong. Like I said, I don’t have any proof, but I just…I have this feeling.”
