Page 22

22

Salem

Stretching, I yawned, then opened my eyes slowly. I was staring at the sofa in Rome’s bedroom. We were back at the clubhouse. I didn’t remember getting here. Sitting up, I noticed I was wearing one of Rome’s T-shirts and pulled the fabric up to my nose to smell it. His scent made me smile.

The door opened, and my head snapped up to see Rome walking in with a tray of food.

“Don’t get out of that bed,” he ordered me. “I intend to stay up here all day. Maybe the entire week. I’m not sure yet.”

A grin tugged at my lips.

“You should be rested up after fourteen hours of sleep,” he said, setting the tray down on the side table.

“Fourteen?” I asked, scrunching my nose in confusion. “I can’t even remember getting back last night.”

“Because you were sleeping. I don’t think a bomb would have woken you up,” he told me as he climbed onto the bed and crawled over to me.

“I fucking love the sight of you in my bed, wearing my shirt, with your hair all messy,” he said, then pressed his lips against mine, slightly nipping at my bottom one.

I opened for him, only to taste his minty, fresh breath and push him back to cover my mouth.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth.” My words were muffled, but he heard me.

He grinned. “I don’t care. Move your hand.”

I shook my head and then scrambled to get off the bed, but his fingers wrapped around my ankle and stopped me.

“Rome!” I whined. “Let me go brush my teeth. Fourteen-hour morning breath has to be awful.”

“I want your sexy ass in my bed,” he replied, pulling me back.

“Please,” I begged and attempted to wiggle free.

It was then that it hit me—the familiar wave of nausea—and I stopped. It was worse than before. I’d slept fourteen hours. I was home. Not in a dark pit of depression in Ireland.

“You okay, Angel Face?” Rome asked. “Did I hurt you?”

He let go of my ankle and ran his fingertips across the bottom of my feet. Normally, that would make me giggle, but right now, I was positive I was going to throw up. I moved quickly, covering my mouth as the cold sweat broke out over my body.

Please let me make it to the toilet.

“Angel Face,” Rome’s concerned voice called out, but there was no time to explain.

Shoving open the bathroom door, I rushed to the toilet just as my stomach lurched. I grabbed as much of my hair as I could and bent over with the first heave. I was on my second one when I felt Rome come up behind me and take my hair from my hand, then collect the rest of it. Two more, and then it began to fade. Reaching for the handle, I flushed it, then straightened.

Rome let go of my hair, and I heard the water running. I glanced over to see him wetting a washcloth, then wringing it out before turning back to me. Gently, he cleaned my face. The cold felt good, and I closed my eyes and sighed. The nausea wasn’t completely gone, but the worst had eased.

“I’ll get you some water,” he told me, then reached over and closed the toilet seat lid. “Sit.”

I didn’t argue and sank down while he left to go get a water from his fridge. Staring at the wall, I tried to think of a reason for this, but only one came to mind. But that shouldn’t be possible. I’d had my birth control injection on time. I kept a reminder on my phone so I never missed it. Not having a period didn’t mean anything to me because I often missed periods with the shot. When I did have them, they were light.

But…I didn’t have my phone. Alarm began to crawl up my spine. What if I’d had the timing wrong? I couldn’t remember exactly when I’d taken my last one. I relied on my alert to remind me, but there was no alert without a phone.

Oh God.

Rome walked back into the bathroom with an open bottle of water and handed it to me. “Here, have some of this, and I’ll get the shower going. I’ve missed washing your hair,” he told me as his lips quirked.

Taking the water, I remained silent. I didn’t drink. Just continued to stare. Thoughts shooting off one right after another in my head. Panic, fear, worry, all rolling together.

“You gonna be sick again?” Rome asked, sinking down in front of me. His expression wasn’t concern but more…tender.

I shook my head.

He reached out and brushed my cheek with his hand. “The water will get that taste out of your mouth, and you need to rehydrate.”

A steady pounding began in my temples.

“Drink for me, please,” he said, taking the water and holding it to my lips.

I took a drink, and he gave me a moment before placing it to my lips again. My eyes met his.

“Rome,” I whispered.

“Yeah, baby?”

I swallowed. “I don’t have my phone.”

He frowned, but it held a touch of amusement. “I know. I was going to get you a new one before that bastard took you from me. We will go do that once I let you leave this room.”

I shook my head. “No. No. I—I don’t have my phone,” I said, afraid to even verbalize it. As if my words had the power to make it real. And if it was real then…I’d have to go through that all over again. Wanting it, loving it, and knowing I was going to lose it.

“What was on your phone that you need?” he asked me, putting the bottle down on the counter beside me.

“My reminder,” I replied in a hoarse whisper.

“What reminder?”

I stared at his chest for several moments, then lifted my eyes to his. “The one that reminds me to take my birth control shot.”

A small grin tugged on his lips. “Yeah, I thought that might be it.” His hands closed over mine, and he stood up.

He was happy about it. That might just break me even more. He didn’t know. He hadn’t been through it. The pain and grief. This time, it would be so much worse because I’d have to watch while Nixie’s stomach grew rounder and her baby developed safely in her womb.

He pulled me up, and I went numb.

He studied me, then frowned. “You’re not happy about it.”

I wanted to be. I wanted to be elated. But that would only make it hurt more in the end.

I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see his face. “I can’t…I can’t carry a baby full-term.” My voice cracked. “I always miscarry. I stopped trying after I lost the third baby.” I shook my head and buried my face into my hands as a sob shook my shoulders.

Rome’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “I’ll get you the best OB-GYN in the southeast. We will see a specialist.”

I shook my head. That wouldn’t help. I had done that the last time. “It doesn’t matter. I tried that. I still lost it at nine weeks.”

“I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening this time, but if it does, that doesn’t change us. We have each other. And that is all I need. You. I just need you. You’re my home, Angel Face. You always have been.”

My sobs came harder, and I clung to his shirt as I buried my face in his chest. I knew he loved me, but he didn’t understand the longing I had to be a mom. To hold our baby in my arms. To watch it grow. Have a family.

“This time,” he said, pressing his mouth against my head, “I will be there. Right beside you. Holding you, reminding you how much I love you and just need you. I will be there.”

He said, “This time.”

I sniffled, then leaned back to look at his face.

“I know,” he whispered. “And it tears me up to think about it. I won’t ever be able to forgive myself or go back and do things differently. But I can swear to you that there will never be a day that I walk this earth that I’m not right by your side.”

“You know?” I asked, wanting clarification on what it was he knew.

He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I know about our baby,” he said softly.

“How?”

He hadn’t known then. Had he? He wouldn’t have left me alone if he had?

A fresh wave of hurt began to build.

“By accident,” he said. “When the Mafia go looking for someone, they do their research. Background checks. That I refused to look at because it was invading your privacy. Until Blaise mentioned the miscarriage around the time it would have been my baby. Not Eamon’s. So, I looked at the medical record.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never loathed myself more than at that moment.”

There was nothing in my background that I had to hide. But I appreciated his not wanting to look at it. His knowing lifting a heaviness off me. Maybe I should have told him already. Faced that demon and dealt with it head-on.

“You said I didn’t have any flaws. Now, you know my worst one.”

His brows drew together. “That isn’t a fucking flaw, Angel Face. You are flawless,” he said in a fierce tone. “And maybe it’s the way it is because fate knows I wouldn’t share you very well.”

A sad laugh passed my lips.

He smiled at me. “No more tears today. I need to see you smile. Unless you’re coming on my cock, and then you can cry out.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, feeling somewhat better. I knew it was still going to break a piece of me again, but this time, I’d have Rome’s arms to fall apart into.

He pulled the shirt I was wearing over my head and then nodded his head toward the shower. “Get in,” he said, then rid himself of his shirt as well.

We were skipping over the elephant in the room. The one where he had another woman carrying his child. He would still get to be a father. I would still have to watch her pregnancy.

“You haven’t told me if you’re having a girl or boy.” The words were so thick in my throat that it was hard to get them out. But I managed.

Rome was unzipping his jeans, and he locked his eyes on me, then stepped forward and leaned in to kiss me. A lingering touch of our lips.

“Neither,” he said as he started pushing down his jeans. “The baby isn’t mine.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. Confused and ashamed at the amount of relief that was currently flooding me.

“She blackmailed a man. If he didn’t give her a bogus paternity test, she’d expose to his wife and the church he is a deacon at that he came to the club and paid her extra for head.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Yep. Didn’t even have to see the ultrasound. Found out before, when the doctor brought her paternity results into the room. I was so fucking happy.” He paused as a pained expression touched his face. “Then I came rushing back to you, and you’d vanished.”

I watched as he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, then kicked them aside. He was completely mine. I wouldn’t have to share him.

“Let’s get that shower,” he said, turning me around to walk that way. His hand landed on my butt with a loud smack, and I jumped. “Fuck, I missed that ass.”