All Roads Lead Home ✓

12 | THE PERFECT STORM

A shiver ran up his spine. He sucked in a deep breath and gestured over his shoulder.  "Holy shit. Get out of this bed right now before you wake her up."

Zoya rolled off the mattress and settled on the floor. "I'll just sleep down here."

He hung his head off the side. "No. You will not. Get out of this room before I carry you out. And if I have to do that, you're going to see a lot more than my bare chest. Understand?"

Even in the dark, he could see her eyes widen. "Oh. You mean...you're not..."

"That's exactly what I mean. Go to the living room. I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay."

Roman eased off the mattress and pulled on his jeans and tee shirt. What the hell was she thinking? All he needed was for his guest to wake and find another girl in bed. 

In the living room he found Zoya huddled on the sofa, chin resting on knees, arms wrapped tight around her legs. Another crack of thunder caused her to flinch. He sat next to her. She stiffened in retaliation, as if showing putting on a bravado. Moments passed before she relaxed, finding ease in his presence.  "Before I showed up, and it stormed, what did you do?"

"I had the cats."

"Well, you can't come into my room when I have a guest. That's not appropriate."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

She shivered, then rose and yanked the blanket tighter. Then her chin quivered and his throat thickened with guilt. She wasn't pretending. The fear in her eyes was as real as what he'd seen in inmates their first day in the yard. He remembered that feeling. Constant dread. Night terrors. Always looking over his shoulder. He took a deep breath, came to his feet, and followed her down the hallway.

She slipped into bed and he slid the corner chair closer and dropped into it. "I'll sit with you until you fall asleep. How will that be?"

"Good."

"Why do storms frighten you so much?"

"Because that's when bad things happen."

"Like what?"

At first, he didn't think she would answer, but then she wiped at her cheeks and faced him.

"My mom died during a storm."

Zoya pulled the sheet to her face and wiped tears now coming faster. Roman reached for her hand. He'd begun to have a soft spot for her and wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Her fingers tighten around his. "My dad used to hold my hand until I fell asleep during bad weather."

God, he wanted to crawl in next to her. Wrap her in his arms and say it'd get better, but the truth was, it didn't. He'd suffered the loss of his mother and even now, when he thought of her, he went right back to the twelve-year-old kid he'd been when he saw her for the last time. If there was any consolation, it was she'd not been alive to see him go to prison.

"Well, I can do that."

"I'll try to be quick so you can get back to your bed partner."

He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. "No hurry. Turns out it's Thursday and I'm done with her."

"Is that a joke?"

"Yeah."

She smiled and closed her eyes.

Dozing sporadically, Roman didn't know how long he sat there. With all the memories running through his mind, he lost track of time. After Rosamie's death, he'd gone to live with his deadbeat dad and never bonded with him or his step-mother. Flynn, his stepbrother, was half all right, and he made an effort at his sister's insistence. If anything, Flynn hated Roman's old man, too, and that was an easy camaraderie. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.