Page 37 of Roan

His jaw works back and forth and he swallows. He lifts my chin with his fingertips, the smell of gasoline invading my senses, our explosive chemistry surging through me. We’re locked in a stare, mine terrified, his tormented. “That still doesn’t tell me why you brought himhere.”

I swallow over the lump forming, stupid tears letting go. “To move on.”

“Is that what you’re doing, moving on?” His voice breaks at the end, his brow knitting together. Like our love, his words are hushed and hollow.

“Isn’t that what you intended for me to do when you told me to get out?”

He repeats his words from two years ago. “I guess that’s irrelevant now, isn’t it?”

The air between us is charged with sacred, obsessive memories of our history together. My heart lurches at his words lined with emotion and exhaustion. He’s tired of this. Our constant game of who can hurt who the most.

His bloodshot eyes make a leisurely pass over my body, resting on my lips, before darting back to my eyes. He nods to the door, reaching over to open it. Agustin is on the front steps. He turns, takes in Roan’s stance and my tears.

“Looks like he’s waiting for you,” Roan mumbles, walking away.

You hate me, don’t you?

Get in line. Pretty sure it’s a long one too so you might be waiting a while.

I can see the lecture building in Carl’s eyes. The “I warned you,” or better yet, “you promised.” And I did. When she turned sixteen and he had an idea I was interested. Here’s the thing though. I’ve never been good at keeping promises, nor have I ever told this man the truth when it comes to the things I’ve done to his daughter. Well, now, he has an idea, doesn’t he?

While he works on exactly what he wants to ask me, my mind slips back to her. Hell, it really hadn’t left. Truth? I knew she was seeing someone. I did. I saw them together yesterday while I drove by her office. Okay, I was stalking her, but whatever. She hadn’t called me back and I wanted to know why.

The fact of the matter is, I saw them. Hand in hand like a merry fucking couple. Did it hurt?

You tell me. You saw my reaction moments ago.

Now here I sit with Carl, and he wants answers. The truth. Something I’m not even sure I know anymore. At least not when it comes to Ophelia and me. I’ve lied about our relationship for so long I can’t keep it straight.

Tiller sits beside me, uninterested in anything around him other than the pain between his legs. He elbows me. “I feel like my dick is going to explode.”

I look over at him, annoyed I’m even in the same room with him. “I’m not gonna lie, that would probably make me happy.”

He frowns. “That’s probably the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Shade flops himself on the other side of me. “Why do I have to be part of this conversation?”

Willa shoots him a glare. “Because you do. Now shut up.”

Like we’re supposed to talk out our problems, it’s me, Carl, Willa, Ricky, Tiller, and now Shade—who’d rather be anywhere else. Can’t say I blame him. This is bullshit.

I groan, running my hands over my face. “What the fuck is this? So what… we fucked your daughter.”

That does absolutely nothing to rein in Carl’s composure. In fact, in that moment, I’m pretty sure he wants to rip my throat out. “Shut the fuck up,” he barks. “I’ve put up with your bullshit for fifteen years. I warned all of you when she started coming around to keep your dicks in your pants around her and this is how you repay me?”

Get this. He’s starting at Tiller, not me. When in reality, this didn’t start with Tiller. It started with me and a too-young girl looking for trouble.

Shade raises his hand like he’s in kindergarten. Might as well be with how we’re being treated. “Technically, I never touched her. Can I leave now?”

“No,” Willa snaps. “This shit stops now and none of you are leaving until we talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Tiller asks. “Besides the fact that I might not ever be able to use my dick again.”

Reaching for my beer, I roll my eyes, the lightning in the surrounding hills capturing my attention. “You’re being dramatic,” I tell him, my voice rough from days of coughing up a lung. Yep, still sick.

Scowling, Tiller stands and drops his shorts. “This is not me being dramatic, motherfucker.”

His dick and balls are blue. He looks like a goddamn Smurf sucked his dick.

---