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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

BLAKE

W hen I look down to check Syd, her breathing is laboured and her eyes are closed, but she’s wearing the most incredible serene look.

“Syd?” I question, looking up to Roman as he steps back, then crouches beside her, trailing his fingers across her flushed cheeks.

She hums, seeking out the contact. “Well…”

Both Roman and I laugh at her sleepy, sated attempt at words. I tap her calf, indicating for her to release me. She does, dropping her thighs wide open and offering a perfect view of her pussy still stuffed with my cock. I groan and roll my eyes, wanting more than anything to roll my hips and fuck her again. But not only is she going to be sore, she’s going to want those answers now.

The prospect of that conversation fully deflates my softening cock, and I pull out slowly. Her eyes open and meet mine, and she watches as I tie off the condom before turning to look at Roman.

I see the exact moment doubt creeps in and realisation of what just happened, but before it can fully manifest itself, I say, “Don’t go there, Syd. Nothing we did is wrong.”

Scooting back and sitting up, she closes in on herself, covering her naked body with her arms. “I’m not sure my people would agree with you there,” she says sullenly.

Roman tuts and rises to his feet. “And have you ever asked any of them if they had sex outside marriage?”

“Of course not,” she barks, offended on their behalf. Another trait from her religious upbringing.

“I think you’d be shocked if you did. You can still be a good Christian and enjoy life, fuck who you like when you like, marry who you want. Some of us are beyond that, and no matter what we do the pearly gates of heaven will not be waiting for us on the other side.” His words are harsh yet true—for most of the people in our circle. We may have broken some of Syd’s barriers down, but when the truth comes out, it’s going to take a lot more than a couple of orgasms to justify any of it and to turn her black and white view of the world to a muted grey.

“Ro,” I say, a gently warning to take it down a notch and not ruin the moment. I’m not sure where his head is at, but mine is still lingering on the fact I just how fucking good being inside Syd was.

He waves me off, then strides from the room, grabbing his clothes as he goes. I look to Syd to reassure her that he’s not mad at her, but I’m stopped when she speaks before me.

“Wow, there was me thinking sex is supposed to put you in a good mood.”

I smirk, happy at her attempt to lighten the mood. “He is, he just has a difficult time showing it right now.” I get to my feet, then offer my hand to Syd. She takes it, surprising me with a smile and a muttered thanks.

“Come on. I’ll show you to the guest room and you can shower,” I say, slipping my boxers on and balling up the rest of my clothes.

She gathers her clothes and follows me. “Then you’re going to give me answers,” she states, and I peer at her behind me. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten just because of some great sex.”

“Busted,” I say, slapping my thigh as I stop and face her. “Seriously though, keep an open mind, Syd. Forget what you’ve been told, and use your own instincts,” I implore as she gazes up at me, her brow furrowed. With a hand on her back, and not waiting for an answer, I guide her to the room beside ours. It’s the only other room with an en suite.

After showing her into the room and where everything is, I jog next door and grab her one of my T-shirts to wear and a pair of joggers, which will no doubt be huge on her.

Handing the clothes to her, I tell her to meet us downstairs when she’s ready. She nods, looking awkward, and I leave her to it.

Ro is exiting the bathroom as I enter, looking broody and not at all like someone who just got his cock sucked.

“What the fuck, Ro. That was a little harsh,” I say, grabbing some clean clothes to throw on once I’ve showered.

“Sure,” he mutters with no real feeling other than disinterest and pulls on joggers and T-shirt. “You showering?” he asks as he grabs the towel from where he dropped it on the bed and heads toward the bathroom.

“Yes. I told Syd we’d meet her downstairs to talk once she’s cleaned up.”

“You’ll need this then,” he says shoving the towel into my chest as he passes me.

I snatch hold of his arm, pulling him back. “What is going on? What happened at the hospital earlier?”

He’s all hard edges and fury, but as he looks at me, his eyes soften. With a deep sigh, he steps toward me, and I loosen my hold on his arm to more of a gentle caress.

“We fucked up,” he says, pulling back and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What are you talking about? Do you mean with Syd?” I ask, searching my mind for what he could be talking about, but I’ve got nothing.

He shakes his head. “Kincaid.” His hands tighten on the bed, scrunching up the duvet. “He knows who I am. He’s known form the start.”

“No!” I say incredulously. “How the fuck does he know that, Ro? We were careful.”

Ro laughs. “Apparently not. But that’s not the funniest bit. He claims it wasn’t him.” He scoffs, then breaks into a hearty laugh that to anyone else would seem merry, but this laugh is laced with disbelief and fury and pain.

“Bullshit!” I hiss, gritting my teeth. “There’s no way we got the wrong guy, Ro. It was him. He murdered those women, he murdered Bell.” I crouch in front of him, grasping his face. “We aren’t wrong, Ro. Amos Kincaid is a fucking murderer, and he will?—”

A gasp behind me has me spinning to find Syd in the doorway, having pushed the door open fully. Her face is drained of colour, mouth open and tears on the precipice of falling from her eyes in a tsunami capable of drowning civilisation.

“Syd—”

“Wh-what d-did you say?” Her words are fractured, full of torture and a plea for her to have misheard me.

Ro gets to his feet, and I almost fall flat on my arse as he strides past me. He marches straight at her, forcing her to retreat, his muscular back contracting and his hands fisting at his sides. He doesn’t stop, despite my calls to him, until Syd is pinned against the wall in the hall.

She squeals as he cages her in, and I race to his side, tugging at his arm. “Hey, she’s not a part of this, Ro. She’s innocent,” I implore, trying to break through the dark haze that has fallen over him.

“She’s not innocent. Not anymore,” he says, his face twisting into a tortured frown. “We ruined her.” His words are solemn. “We got it wrong and ruined her in the process.”

I tug at him again, trying to pull his attention to me. “Roman, tell me what Kincaid said to you?”

“You spoke to my pa?” Syd says, finding her voice, which is now strong and full of accusation. I watch as she pieces it together. “That’s where you went at the hospital.”

Ro takes a strand of her wet hair and twirls it around his finger. She doesn’t pull away, and I’m not sure what to make of that. The fear I saw in her earlier has vanished or she’s masking it fucking well.

“Yes. And do you know what he told me, Sydney?” He pauses, waiting for her to respond.

I’ve known Roman for six years, we’ve been lovers for most of that time. I’ve seen him at his worst and his best, but I’ve never seen him this…lost. That’s the only word I can think of describe him right now. Not even after Annabel’s death. And that was fucked up.

But this right here? I have no understanding of.

“No,” she finally answers when she figures out she’ll get no more from him until she does.

He tugs on her hair, drawing their faces closer together, and if I didn’t know Ro as well as I do, I’d worry he was going to hurt her. Our lives are not spent playing happy families. They are dark, filled with death and destruction.

“He told me to protect you. He knows what kind of men we are, yet he begged me to keep you safe. Can you believe that?”

She shakes her head, and a tear rolls down her cheek. “Why? Who do you need to keep me safe from?”

Roman closes the distance between them, his mouth ghosting across her lips, and my cock inappropriately jerks behind my boxers.

“Your father. The man who raped and murdered my sister, Sydney, that’s who. But”—he chuckles—“apparently, I got it wrong.” Then he licks the tear from her face, drops her hair and walks away.

Sydney sags against the wall, drawing deep breath after deep breath, her whole body vibrating.

“Syd,” I say, reaching for her, but she holds up a hand, stopping me.

“No, don’t touch me.” She sucks in another fortifying breath, then swoops round me and into the guest room, slamming the door closed. A second later, I hear something being pushed up against the door, and I know she’s barricaded herself inside.

Fuck!