Page 103 of Bound By Threads
I close my eyes, trying to shut it all out, but the memories keep pushing through, too strong, too raw.
The sound of Roman’s voice, so similar to his, is enough to bring everything back.
He doesn’t back up, his anger building. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is getting louder.
My breath comes in shallow gasps.“I can’t tell you,”I sign, my hands trembling, slipping back into my silence.
“I… I don’t speak sign language, Reyes. I need you to use your words. What the fuck is wrong?” Roman looks at me like I’ve betrayed him. “You’re fucking breaking me, you know that? Never wanted to feel sorry for you, but fuck, you look so pathetic right now. I deserve better than this. We all do. So just fucking tell me!”
I feel the pressure build inside me, the weight of everything I’ve held onto threatening to crush me. “I can’t…” I gasp. “I can’t go through it again. I can’t break you like that.”
Roman laughs bitterly. “You think you can keep me in the dark forever?” His voice drops to a harsh whisper. “Maybe I should lock you in a room. Force the answers from you.”
The words are like shards of glass in my chest, but I have to say them. I can’t keep pretending to be okay anymore. “You look just like him.” I rasp, the words hanging in the air like a death sentence.
Roman blinks, confusion washing over his face. “Who the hell ishim, Lottie?”
“The man who stole my voice,” I whisper, the words feeling like poison in my mouth. “The man who…”
Roman recoils, as if struck, his face draining of color. “The man who… what?”
I close my eyes, wishing I could take the words back.
But I can’t.
The damage is done.
“The man who raped me,” I say flatly, the words cold and hollow, the emotion buried deep beneath a layer of numbness.
Roman stares at me, his eyes wide with disbelief, his entire body frozen. “How could I look like…” he trails off, realization descends upon him, and he shakes his head in denial. “No.”
I nod, my throat tightening, and I feel my body shake.
I can feel the panic creeping up on me again. The memories flood back, a wave of terror crashing over me.
“My father?”
I look away, unable to bear the disgust in his eyes, and screw them shut tightly.
Roman’s face twists in a way that almost looks like physical pain, and his hands grab my arms, shaking me. “Tell me! Was it my father?” he shouts.
A sob breaks free from my throat.
I nod.
“I’m not him, Lottie.Please. I’m not him.” Roman’s voice is raw, pleading, and it breaks me in a way I never thought possible.
I can’t answer him. I can’t.
His grip on me tightens, but it’s not Roman I see anymore.
It’s his father, and Elijah’s.
I want to scream. I want to run.
I’m frozen in place, and I can’t breathe.
“I’m not him, Lottie. I’m not him.”
