Page 68 of Destined for the Devil
Work this out?! He was delusional!
“Work it out? Which part do you want to work out, Roman?” I tilted my head, holding back from screaming the words. “The part where you murdered my parents? The part where I barely survived the devastation? Or the last tidbit—that you’ve been fucking the daughter of the man you killed. Which part?!” My shout echoed in the room, loud and obnoxious.
I couldn’t hold back.
Visibly distraught, he shut his eyes and threw his head back. Yes, it was painful for him, and a tiny part of me celebrated the hurt this was causing him.
“Angel, please, just-just hear me out, okay?” He bent down to my eye level, his grasp on me so soft, so caring. “Your father…he—” Roman’s gaze flicked to anything but me as he searched for excuses.
“No.” I shook my head, defeated. “No, don’t…don’t. Don’t give me any more details. I can’t—” Nausea clawed at my collarbone, and I ceded, stopping my struggle against his grasp. Gently, I moved his arms out of the way and headed to the shower. “Let’s talk tomorrow.” I threw out the sentence, knowing that I was going to leave,tonight.
I’d leave all my things. My wallet, my passport, my life—that’s all that I would take back to New York with me. And then I would start from scratch…for the second time this summer.
After an agonizing shower I climbed into bed like usual, but my mind was ablaze with everything I’d found out.
I was in bed with a cold-blooded murderer.
Roman watched my every move, but neither he nor I spoke to each other when I turned off the bedside lamp and scooted to the edge of the bed—as far away from him as possible.
My only goal was to hold it together, to not break out into bitter tears again, so I focused on breathing in and out until his low voice interrupted my efforts.
"Isla,” he called out in the dark. "Isla, I need you to know that I meant what I said. You will forever be mine, Angel. I’ll never let you go."
His words were final, absolute, and irrefutable. My mind was in a haze, and there was nothing I could say to ease my pain. So I said nothing, opting to stay as still as possible.
I drifted in and out of sleep, tormented by images of my dead parents. The truth would rush to me every time I’d jerk awake, bringing fresh tears to my eyes, but I forced myself to stay in bed. But when I checked my phone for the hundredth time to see the clock strike three am, I knew it was time.
My toes padded on the hardwood floor, but I moved silently and fumbled in the dark for my dress and purse. My heartbeat thundered in my ears—I was sure it would wake Roman. But he stayed still. Asleep. With my passport in hand, I crept out of the room into the dark hallway.
Almost out of there, I was sliding my second foot into my sandal when—
“Where do you think you’re going?” Roman’s voice boomed in the darkness, sending my heart into my heels. I gasped loudly, snapping my head back to see his silhouette standing at the end of the hallway.
Oh fuck.
I moved quicker, shoving my foot in the damn sandal, one hand on the door and the other on the lock. I yanked the door open, false hope blooming inside me, but his warm body suddenly loomed behind me,his hand forcefully shutting the door.
Speechless and scared to death, I looked into his eyes, the sparkle dangerous and unhinged. “No, Isla!” His hand was firmly planted on the doorhandle, all of his tattooed chest an inch away from me. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here.”
My soul fluttered right out of me. To say that I was frightened would have been the biggest understatement in the world. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but his resolve and his actions were alarming. He meant what he said: he wasn’t going to let me leave.
He didn’t plead, he didn’t beg, he commanded.
"I-I'm not your property," I stammered, backing into the apartment, but he followed, his strides purposeful and confident. “You can’t keep me here against my will, Roman.” But I knew using logic was futile.
"Not against your will, baby." His tone shifted, and he was once again filled with kindness and care. “We will figure this out, Angel. I promise. Trust me. We will get past this."Nowhe sounded desperate.
My mind worked a mile a minute as I wondered what I could hit him with to get a few seconds for an escape.
"R-Roman..." My voice warbled just as I backed into the foyer console. "Please. You have to let me go." Keys! I felt around behind me, finally finding his car keys.
"No..." He shook his head; deep concern etched into every one of his features. "I’ll never let you go, Isla. If you leave...you will never come back." His voice shook, just like my insides. "But if you stay...I promise we will work it out, baby. Ipromise."
His hand reached for my cheek, and I knew this was the moment. I swung my arm with all my strength, grazing the side of his face with the key, cutting deep into his cheekbone.
“Argh!” His cry of pain was agonizing, but I forced myself to ignore it, bolting out the front door and toward the staircase. Almostthere—I was almost there!
But just before I reached it, a strong hand gripped my wrist and yanked me back. "Isla!" He caught me in his arms, crushing me against him again.
