Page 9 of Broken By Silence
His eyes locked onto me, and I see it all—guilt. Regret. Pain.
And something else, something I don’t want to acknowledge right now.
I don’t let go of his hand, still holding it like it’s sacred, but I lower my voice, knowing the others are outside. “I’m not promising anything,” I whisper. “But maybe I’ll let you explain if you show me you’re more than an emotionless robot his father controls.”
The machine beeps steadily. Another long pause. He breathes.
He’s as pale as a ghost. Jaw bruised, lips cracked, bandages coiled around his chest like a cage barely holding him together.
But his eyes lock on mine.
“You’re still here,” he rasps.
It’s the first full sentence I’ve heard since hecrashed into my front door, shouting my name like it’s a plea. Since I thought he was dying.
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I didn’t want your death on my conscience.”
His lips part to say something, but before he can say anything else, the door slams open.
Crew. Elijah.
Both of them move like storms, their faces a mix of anger and fear for the man they see as a brother.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Elijah snaps immediately, striding across the room like he’s about to shake Roman for being stupid. “You wentalone? To your father? You didn’t even take a weapon? How stupid…”
Roman doesn’t look away from me, like I’m somehow the only thing keeping him steady. “Didn’t need a weapon,” he mutters.
“Didn’t—” Elijah explodes, throwing his arms up in the air. “You are lying in a hospital bed because you didn’t need a weapon?”
“Jesus, Roman,” Crew growls, his voice low and sharp. “You’re not fucking invincible. You nearly died…”
“He did die,” I interrupt. “He was very much dead, but Archer saved him.”
Crew glances at me, then at where I’m holding Roman’s hand. Longing fills his eyes before they narrow on his best friend again. I don’t look to Elijah, you know, cause I’m forgetting all about him and his wife.
“You died. Why the hell would you even go there by yourself?”
Roman’s lips twitch. Not a smile. Something bitter. Hurt.
Then the words fall out.
Flat. Simple. Too casual for the weight they carry, and I can do nothing to stop him.
“He hurt her.”
Everything stops.
Crew’s head snaps toward him.
Elijah freezes mid-step.
“What?” Crew says slowly, like the words don’t make sense.
Roman finally looks at them. Elijah and I can do nothing about the car crash that’s hurtling towards us.
“He put his hands on her. His father. And he didn’t say anything,” Roman grits out as he pushes to sit more.
Silence.
