Page 97 of Our Violent Ends
Roma made an inquisitive noise. She felt the vibration against her ear. “We survive. What else is there?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Juliette lifted her head, blinking into the hazy darkness. Roma smiled the moment he peered down and met her gaze, like it was an instinct. “What areweto do? On two sides of a feud, in a city that might crumble before our families stop killing each other.”
Roma was silent for a moment. Then he wrapped his arms around her and collapsed the both of them backward—him with a firm plop and Juliette with an ungainly noise, taken by surprise.
“This is warmer,” Roma explained, yanking the blankets over them.
Juliette lifted a brow. “Trying to get me into bed already?”
When Roma let out a soft laugh, it almost felt like the world would be okay. Juliette could fool herself into thinking the rounds of gunfire outside were fireworks, the same sort of celebration that had hurtled through the city during the New Year. They could pretend it was January again, revert back to a time when the city was still.
But even when it was still, it had been teetering toward something, on the brink of metamorphosis. Nothing was going to remain idle and unchanging when there was so much anger lurking just beneath the floating surface. The gangsters would no longer be the power in charge when the city outside fell quiet again, but the Scarlet Gang and the White Flowers would still be at war.
Juliette felt her heart sink right down to her stomach. She retrieved her hand from inside the blankets and brought it to Roma’s cheek.
“I wish we had been born as other people,” she whispered. “Born into ordinary lives, untouched by a blood feud.”
Roma’s hand came up too, curled loosely around hers to keep her touch remaining upon him. For a long while, he looked at her, taking in her eyes, her mouth, gaze roaming like he had once been starving and this now was a feast.
“No,” Roma finally said. “Then we would not have met. Then I would have lived an ordinary life, pining for some great love I would never find, because ordinary things happen to ordinary people, and ordinary people settle for something that satisfies them, never knowing if there would have been greater happiness in another life.” His voice was rough, but it was certain. “I will fight this war to love you, Juliette Cai. I will fight this feud to have you, because it was this feud that gave you to me, twisted as it is, and now I will take you away from it.”
Juliette searched his face, searched for any hint of hesitance. Roma didn’t waver.
“What pretty words,” she whispered. She tried to play it cool, but she knew Roma could hear her breathlessness.
“I mean them all,” Roma replied. “I would engrave them onto stone if that would have you believe me more.”
“I believe you.” Juliette finally let herself smile. “But you shall not engrave it onto stone, because I don’t need you to take me away from the feud. I’ll be running by your side.”
Roma rose onto his elbows. In a blink, he was hovering above her, their noses already brushing, lips so close that the proximity was itself a tangible sensation. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “Not of us. Not ever.”
His hand brushed her neck; his thumb smoothed across her jaw. Time seemed to crawl to a stop, creating a little pocket for just the two of them.
“I will stare fear in the face,” Juliette promised quietly. “I will dare to love you, Roma Montagov, and if the city cuts me down for it, then so be it.”
A beat passed. Another. Then Roma pressed his lips to hers with such ferocity that Juliette gasped, the sound immediately muffled when she pushed herself up and drew closer. Despite his burning energy, Juliette felt Roma’s mouth move with sincerity, felt his adoration while he trailed kisses all down her neck.
“Juliette,” he whispered. Both of their coats came off. Roma had the zip of her dress pulled in seconds too, and Juliette lifted her arms to accommodate. “My darling, darling Juliette.”
The dress fell to the floor. With some disbelief, Roma suddenly blinked, his eyes clearing for the briefest moment while she worked at his shirt buttons.
“Are you trying to impale me?” he asked, pulling the knife from the sheath around her thigh and setting it aside.
His shirt joined her dress on the floor. Juliette ripped the sheath off too, tossing it onto the pile.
“What’s a little light stabbing between lovers?”
Juliette had intended it as a joke, but Roma turned serious, gazing at her with his dark eyes. His hand had been curled around her elbow, but now he trailed his touch up her arm, drawing goose bumps in his wake. Juliette didn’t quite understand the hesitation until his fingers settled gingerly at her shoulder, tracing the newly healed wound there. The one he had made.
“Is it going to scar?” he whispered.
“Let it,” Juliette replied. “It’ll remind you that you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
A smile quirked at his lips, but still he didn’t let Juliette brush the matter away. What Juliette tried to shake off, to tamp down and forget, Roma hauled out into the light and forced them both to face. What Roma refused to combat, Juliette fought head-on, dragging them both into the scuffle. That was why they worked so well together. They balanced the other depending on what the other needed.
Roma leaned down. He brushed his face against hers, then pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, dorogaya.”
