Page 65 of Destined for the Devil
And then there was nothing.
Just darkness.
32
Our way or death
Roman
Islahitthefloorright before I got to her. My mind buzzing with shock, I gently picked her up and brought her over to the couch, inspecting her face. It was red, but she wasn’t cut. She wasn’t hurt; she was alright. My Angel was alright.
All of her blurred, and it took me a moment to realize that I had tears in my eyes. I hadn’t cried since my sister passed.
This was ruin.
This news that we both discovered—there was no recovery from this, this was pure devastation.
I wasfullyresponsible for the death of her parents. I planned it, I made the final decision,Iwas the one who left Isla without a family.
Oh God, what kind of a fucking night was this?! My mind was ablaze with a thousand questions. What thefuckwere the chances that we would be brought together like this?! Why the fuck didn't I pay attention to her last name?!
But I knew the answer to that. I was so smitten and interested in her from the moment she landed in my arms that I didn’t care what her last name was.
On my knees in front of the little couch, tears streamed freely down my face now. I ran my fingers down her soft cheek, but she was out cold. I knew she’d wake in a minute, so I rushed to get a bottle of water, and when I turned back, she was already stirring.
But as soon as she saw me, she jolted upright with a gasp and scrambled to her feet, cautiously backing away from me. I reached out, my voice a half-whisper. “Ange-”
"Don't...don't touch me. Don't. Please. Just stay away,” she pleaded quietly, her hands out in front of her like a barrier. I nodded silently and plopped down on the couch, shutting my eyes. I was descending into a black hole.
Isla stood a few feet away, just to the side, her face buried in her hands as silent sobs shook her entire body. She was trembling in that soft little dress, her hair extra wavy after our sudden departure from the bathtub.
She looked so small. So fragile.
I didn't know what to say.I'm sorry I murdered your parents?What the hell kind of sentence was that?
"D-did you...” She choked on her words but then steadied herself. "Did you know my parents had kids? Before you destroyed everything?" Her pure eyes devastated and wet, she wrapped her arms around herself, like she was trying to shield herself from me.
"No." I told her the truth. "I didn't know anything about your dad's personal life. It's easier..." I hesitated, knowing how unhinged and inhumane my next words would sound. "It's easier to do...what I did if you don't know the person's background."
At those words, she turned away slightly, a new wave of sobs overpowering her.
This was the worst night of my life. What was worse, actually? When my mother died? When I had to identify my sister at the morgue? Or this? Close call.
I couldn't take it—couldn’t watch Isla fall apart all by herself. I stood slowly, but she stepped back right away, alarmed at my movements.
She was afraid of me.
Oh my fucking God. I couldn't. Iwouldn't. I refused to lose her.Whatever I needed to do to fix this, I would do it. I’d spend the rest of my life begging for forgiveness, but I wasnotletting her go.
"How did they actually die?" Isla squeaked out, her body visibly shaking.
Yes, this was it—the worst night of my life. When my mother passed, when I saw Natasha on that steel table, those moments were final; there was nothing to be done, no bringing them back. But this…this was like some medieval torture technique, where you watch how your heart gets ripped apart little by little.
The best night of my life quickly turned into the biggest nightmare I'd ever had to live through.
"Isla...I don't think this informa—" I tried to shut it down, but she cut me off loudly.
"How did they actually die, Roman?!" She was ready to physically attack me, so I nodded, choosing to defuse the situation.
