Page 35 of Deceit & Desire

Roman loosened his grip on me and took a half-step toward Sarah, leaning forward a bit, his eyes softening with a glimmer of hope.

My heart clenched. I recognized the vulnerability in his expression, the longing for a mother’s love he’d been denied for so long. He tried so hard to hide it, to suppress it, but it was there now, plain as day for me to see, rubbed raw by Sarah’s presence.

“What made you come back? Why now? Why today?” Roman’s voice was so impossibly soft, so husky with emotion.

My chest ached at the sound of it.

“All this time, I’ve been... I’ve been trying to get clean,” Sarah stammered, her obviously—at least to me—rehearsed speech faltering. She wiped her sweat-slicked brow, her movements becoming more erratic. “I wanted to be worthy of you, to make amends?—”

Suddenly, Sarah doubled over, clutching her stomach, a wave of nausea visibly hitting her.

“I can’t... I need...” she muttered, her eyes wild and unfocused.

“What—” Roman frowned and shook his head, his face almost boyishly confused. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong, Mamma? What do you need?”

I froze, horrified at the slow motion train wreck of a situation unfolding in front of me, unable to do or say anything. My mouth went so painfully dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. All I could do was stare as Sarah, still doubled over, glanced up at Roman and gave a hollow, humorless laugh.

“Damn it, Michaelson promised me enough to score if I could just convince you to get old man Brandt to sell him this godforsaken ranch,” Sarah blurted out, her desperation overriding her carefully constructed lie.

The hope in Roman’s eyes shattered into a million tiny pieces, replaced by a storm of betrayal and anger. His jaw clenched, and I watched as the hard, distant, tough-guy walls I’d worked so hard to break down when we were kids slammed back into place inside him.

White-hot rage boiled through my veins, and suddenly I could move and breathe and think again. I stepped between Sarah and Roman, bending over and getting right up in her face, so we were eye-to-eye.

“Look at me, Sarah.”

She stared down at the floor, muttering under her breath. I wasn’t even sure she heard me.

“Hey!” I gripped her by the shoulders, hard enough to hurt, and shook her until her teeth rattled and clacked together. “I told you to look me in the eyes, god damn it. Now do it.”

Trembling, Sarah finally pulled herself together enough to do as she was told and meet my gaze.

I glared at the woman, my fingers biting into her bony arms as I growled at her through gritted teeth, trying to get a grip on my temper for a moment before I said what I wanted to say to her.

“Do I have your attention now, Sarah?”

“Yes.”

“You better listen to me, now, and listen well. I don’t know what drug den circle of hell David Michaelson managed to find you in and drag you out of, but you better crawl back into it and fucking stay there until the day you intend to actually get clean and prioritize your son’s emotional needs over your next fix. It won’t hurt my fucking feelings if I never lay eyes on you again, you understand me? But if you ever show up here and hurt Roman again like you’ve done today—on our fucking wedding day—I will find new ways to make you regret the fact that you’re living and breathing. Do I make myself clear? He deserves so much better than you and everything you’ve put him through. Apologize to your son and get the fuck off my ranch before I lose my temper on you.”

Sarah said nothing, she just stood there, shaking and rocking back and forth in place, holding her stomach and whimpering.

“I think you should leave now, Sarah,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “You’ve done enough damage here. And take a message to David Michaelson for me.”

Sarah looked up at that, hollow-eyed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What message?”

“He’ll never get his hands on this ranch, not even over my dead body. My father will never sell, I’ll never sell, and Roman would never sell, either, should he outlive me. Michaelson should give up now, because he will never get this ranch.”

“You don’t know what Michaelson is like. He doesn’t take no for an answer?—”

“And I don’t let pretty boy actors from Hollywood bully me out of land that’s belonged to my family for centuries. Give it up, Sarah. Tell Michaelson he’s going to lose, then do yourself a favor and check into a rehab somewhere before you end up dead of an overdose.”

Sarah stifled a sob and turned to Roman, making a helpless sort of flapping motion with her hands.

“I’m sorry. I never should have come here, but you don’t know what it’s like… I need my fix so bad… I need it so the demons in my head’ll be quiet… I’m so fucking sorry, but you should convince her to sell if you can. Michaelson won’t back down. He won’t stop?—”

“Get out. I never want to see you again unless you’re fucking sober, do you understand me?” Roman pointed stiff-armed at the door. “I will never betray my wife or this ranch, and we will never sell out to the likes of David Michaelson. You go back to that slimy sack of monkey shit, and you tell him that from me.”

As Sarah stumbled out, I turned to Roman, reaching for his hand. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles white.

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