Page 33 of Broken By Silence
“What?” He grins, unrepentant. “Roman’s got his throne, Elijah’s pretending he’s too cool to even be here, and I—” he stretches his arms wide—“am clearly the emotional support clown of this circus.”
Elijah snorts. “Emotional support pain in the ass.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” Crew fires back.
Roman groans, rolling onto his side with exaggerated effort. “If you two don’t shut up, I’m going to bleed on something expensive just to spite you.”
Claire’s head snaps up. “Like you haven’t already. It cost me a fortune to get that carpet replaced.”
Roman smirks faintly, but it doesn’t last. His eyes flick to the floor. “Not exactly my fault that my dad put a bullet in me.”
Claire’s arms fold tighter across her chest, her stare like a blade. “You went after him without a weapon, Roman. You didn’t think. You just charged in like some hero in a bad movie. And look where it got you—bleeding all over my carpet while we scrambled to keep you alive.”
The room stills. Crew shifts uncomfortably, glancing between them. Elijah doesn’t even bother to hide the shake of his head, muttering, “Youwerean idiot.”
Roman’s jaw tightens. “What was I supposed to do? Sit back and pretend I didn’t know what he’s done?” His voice lifts, rough around the edges, and then dips back down, quiet but fierce. “I couldn’t.”
Claire doesn’t flinch. She just steps closer, her voice low and dangerous. “No one’s saying you had to do nothing. But charging at Lorenzo empty-handed wasn’t brave, Roman. It was reckless. You could’ve died… You nearly did die and if it wasn’t for Lottie begging for you to live, I probably would have left you on the ground outside after everything you did to her.”
Roman swallows hard, the bravado cracking, but he doesn’t answer, and I can’t blame him. Claire has an air about her that when she tells you to shut up… you do. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until even Crew stops fidgeting. Elijah leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his usual mask of indifference slipping just enough to show that he’s watching Roman, judging.
Roman sinks further into the couch, suddenly looking smaller despite the smirk he tries to pull back onto his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes.
Claire exhales sharply, like she’s burned through all her patience in one breath. “Will, get him off my couch before he stains something else. Guest room. Now.”
Will moves without a word, his presence enough to make Roman drag himself up with a groan. Crew hurries to gather the bags, his mouth twitching like he wants to crack another joke but thinks better of it.
Elijah pushes off the wall, muttering as he follows, “Told you. Idiot.”
Roman doesn’t rise to the bait this time. He just limps past, jaw tight, eyes carefully avoiding mine.
When they disappear down the hallway, the house finally feels like it exhales. Claire presses a hand to her temple, muttering something about fools and carpets, while Will rubs a hand over her back.
Beside me, Archer lets out a low breath. “See? That’s what I mean.” His voice is quiet, only for me. “He’s chaos, Lottie. All of them are. And chaos gets people killed. I refuse to lose you because they can’t get their heads on straight.”
I swallow, my throat tight. “I know they’re a mess. But right now… they’re also a shield. If Lorenzo comes again, it’s not just us he has to get through.”
Archer shakes his head, leaning closer, his voice low. “A shield that breaks the second someone does something stupid. That’s not protection, Lottie… It’s a gamble. And I don’t gamble with you.”
The words sink, and my chest aches because he’s right—Roman bleeding out on Claire’s carpet wasn’t just a mistake, it was proof that Lorenzo truly doesn’t care about who he hurts.
Oscar’s hands move. “He’s right. I refuse to lose you. They haven’texactly shown they care about you in the past. I don’t trust them, not one bit.”
Archer jerks his chin toward him, like he’s been waiting for backup. “Exactly.”
Heat flares in my chest. “So what’s the alternative? Kick them out? Leave them on the street while Lorenzo’s still hunting us?” My voice cracks, too loud, too raw. “That doesn’t make us safer. That just makes us as bad as him.”
Archer’s jaw works, like he’s chewing on the words, swallowing something bitter. He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me with that fierce, stubborn kind of love that makes me feel both safe and smothered.
Oscar’s hands flick again.“Just be careful, yeah?”
I glance toward the hall where Roman and Elijah disappeared. The silence they left feels sharp, like broken glass under bare feet. Claire’s threat echoes in my head, her promise she would’ve left Roman outside if not for me. That didn’t sound like safety. That sounded like survival, and I’m so sick of only surviving.
Before I can say more, the creak of footsteps pulls my attention back. Crew slips into the room, quieter than usual, his usual grin nowhere in sight. He rubs the back of his neck, looking… uneasy.
“Hey,” he says, softer than I’ve ever heard him. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For the jokes earlier.” He shrugs, awkward, eyes darting between us. “It all felt… heavy. Too much. I thought laughing would make it better, but… it probably just made it worse.”
I give him a small tired smile. “I know you were trying. And honestly… even if it was bad timing, it did help. For a second.”
