Page 46 of Roan

I fight back the emotion and lie down. “I’m sorry. I’m not good company tonight.”

Agustin stands, a weak smile on his face. “It’s okay. You get some sleep.”

He leaves, the soft click of the door behind him a relief, but in my chest, it’s bone-deep and penetrating through me in waves. I burst into tears, covering my face with my hands, guilt and shame gnawing at me.

I think back to when I was twelve and my life shifted. This feels so familiar. Back then I felt like my parents had ripped apart my childhood and everything in it was a lie. It hurt that they kept it from me. It hurt that they waited until the lie entangled my reality and I had to know.

And the one person I thought I could trust now had just done the same thing to me.

Brutal. That was fucking bru-tal, and sadly, deserving, don’t you think?

That’s what I thought.

One shot.

Two shots.

One bottle.

You get the idea of how the next few hours go. No, I didn’t drink the bottle, but if Carl hadn’t taken it away, I might have.

I know I said it was done. It was in the past and I wouldn’t tell her, but I never imagined what it would feel like to have my heart ripped out of my chest. I guess when that happens, you can’t be in control of what you say because it’s irrelevant, right?

Fuck, me. No, really. Just fucking take this bottle and drown me in my own pathetic self-inflicted misery. It’s deserving, don’t you think? You can agree. I won’t hate you. At least, not as much as I hate myself.

Carl hands me a cup of coffee. It’s two in the morning, the sky’s still roaring with life and I’m wishing I was dead. I push the cup away from me. “No.”

He doesn’t back down. “Drink it,” he demands, sounding annoyed, his attention on his phone and the laptop next to him.

I stare at him. I wasn’t lying when I said, “It stays with us,” to Carl. I meant that. Ophelia would never know it was him. Who slept with the reporter wasn’t important and I wouldn’t out him. Not like that. Not to a man who has always had my back and gotten me out of situations that ordinarily I would have been fucked. Like the time I stole a car, jumped it off an overpass into a river and he got me out alive and without the police knowing.

Or the time in Abu Dhabi when I yet again, while high on synthetic pot, stole a car, and Carl managed to not only find me, he got rid of the drugs I’d had in there, but the car too when it was reported stolen by the ambassador. He made the whole thing go away. If it wasn’t for this man and his loyalty to protect me, I’d be in some heavy shit.

I stare at the coffee, then him. “I told her I didn’t fuck that chick in Athens.” He nods, his shoulders tight. “But I didn’t tell her it was you. I never will.”

He flicks his eyes from the laptop to mine, and then back again. “I’m not asking you to keep a secret for me, Roan. It’s not like I’ve been living a lie. My wife knows, it’s just, Ophelia doesn’t need to. My problems are mine and my wife’s, not my daughter’s.”

I smirk, product of my alcohol consumption tonight. “And how’s that going for you?”

He glowers at me. “Better than yours.”

I grab my chest dramatically. “Low blow.”

Rolling his eyes, he closes his laptop and reaches for a bottle of water from the fridge. “You should hydrate. You have a jump show tomorrow.”

Damn it. I’d forgotten about that. And then I do quite possibly the worst thing ever. With my eyes on the bottle of water, I ask, “Is he good to her?”

Carl tips his head, as if he’s examining my intentions. He leans into the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. “He is. He’s really good to her.”

Fuck me. I do another shot, only to have Carl rip the bottle from my hand. “That’s enough.”

Dramatically, I flop my upper body onto the counter in an attempt to catch the bottle, but it doesn’t work. The coolness of the stone countertops feels nice against my face so I lie there for a moment, face down. Then pop my head up and level Carl with a serious what-the-fuck-do-I-do-now look. “What can I give her? An unpredictable lifestyle. He probably has a stable job, comes home every night before five and buys her flowers just because. I bet he doesn’t drink and never swears. You know, all the shit a girl like her deserves but wouldn’t get from me.” I have no idea why I tell Carl any of that, but he laughs in my face.

“You’re drunk.” He pushes the water toward me again. “And I certainly wouldn’t approve.”

“That’s so…mean,” I say, completely dejected. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

Relaxing his usual stiff posture, he winks at me. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like you, bud. But you’re not my first pick for my daughter.”

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