Page 93 of Broken By Silence
There’s a crack in his voice that he doesn’t bother to hide.
I move without thinking. Reach for him without thinking. My fingers curl around his wrist, but he doesn’t move at first, just stares at the way our skin touches like it’s a mirage. Then slowly, painfully, he turns his hand over, linking our fingers.
“I know,” I tell him past the ache in my throat. “You already are, Roman.”
His expression softens, just barely, before he lets out a shaky laugh. “You shouldn’t be the one comforting me.”
I shrug. “Maybe I want to.”
Oscar shifts,“Maybe these conversations should be had while Lottie wears some clothes?”
I shoot him a look that’s somewhere between exasperation and affection, tugging one of Archer’s shirts from the floor and slipping it over my head.
Crew chuckles, low in his chest, but Elijah doesn’t laugh.
He’s watching me.
Really watching.
There’s something in his expression—something tangled and unreadable, a storm of emotion behind the restraint. His eyes trail the fading marks on my neck, the fresh bruises along my jaw from Lorenzo’s grip, the tremor I keep trying to hide in my fingers.
When I glance up, his gaze meets mine and doesn’t move.
Roman catches the shift, clears his throat. “We’ll leave you two to it.”
Crew mutters something under his breath and drags Oscar and Archer out of the room, leaving just Elijah and me.
He runs a hand through his hair, slow, deliberate, like he’s buying himself time before he speaks. “You shouldn’t have been alone, Lottie.”
“I know.” The words come out small, and I hate that they do.
He exhales, jaw tight, then leans back against the counter. His voice is calm, but it carries weight. “When I heard… when Will called and said Lorenzo had found you… I thought my heart stopped. I thought…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I can’t go through losing you again.”
“You never lost me, though.”
He looks up sharply. “Didn’t I? You disappeared, and I never knew if it was because we drove you to it or if it was something else. Something I could have stopped. I made a grave for you, Lottie. Do you think there would be any part of me that would be sane if something happened to you again?”
He’s not angry… he’s broken. A quiet devastation in every word. I take a step toward him, hesitant. “You saved my dad.Youput him in rehab.Youmade sure he got to live.”
Elijah’s throat works. His eyes glisten, but he blinks hard, holding it back. “I did it because I couldn’t save you. It was the only thing I could do. When I saw you again, I thought I was dreaming. I thought if I blinked too hard, you’d vanish again.”
I reach for him before I can think better of it, pressing my palm flat against his chest. His heartbeat thunders beneath my hand. “I’m right here,” I whisper.
He looks down at my hand, then back at my face, like he’s memorizing every detail. He cups the side of my face gently, fingers brushing the faint swelling at my temple. His touch is careful, reverent. “You fought back,” he says, pride threaded through his grief. He stares at me for a long moment, something raw flickering across his face. Then, without another word, he closes the distance. “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, voice breaking on the edges.
“Like what?”
“Like I didn’t nearly break you.”
I start to speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance. His lips crash into mine. Sudden, desperate, like something inside him snapped. The kiss isn’t careful or rehearsed. It’s messy and aching and full of everything neither of us ever said. His hand slides to the back of my neck, and I grab his shirt, pulling him closer, tasting the salt of his tears, or maybe mine.
When he finally pulls away, he does it slowly, as if tearing himself free costs him something vital. His forehead rests against mine for a heartbeat, both of us breathless.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, voice hoarse.
“I’m glad you did,” I whisper.
He exhales hard, stepping back a pace, raking a hand through his hair. I take a half-step toward him anyway, and his eyes shut like he’s in pain.
