Page 70 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“They corrected her,” Longstaff replies flatly. “There’s a difference.”

“Fuck you, Dad, what’s the end game here? Hmm? You think this ends with you winning?”

“Oh Roman, I’m not the one standing in a house full of traitors with nothing but anger and three stolen women.” A beat of silence follows. Then his voice hardens. “You’ve taken something that belongs to The Company.”

Roman leans over the table, “then come and take them back,” he says coldly.

Longstaff doesn’t hesitate, “I will.”

And the line goes dead.

Every eye drifts toward me. I can feel the weight of their attention pressing against my skin as the knowledge of what Longstaff said hangs in the air between us like poison. The room tilts as the words echo back through my head again and again, before they twist themselves into knots that won’t loosen no matter how hard I try to untangle them. My fingers are still clamped over my mouth but it doesn’t stop the sob as it forces its way through my chest.

Roman moves.

One second he’s across the room and the next he’s in front of me, the distance between us disappearing so fast it makes my head spin. His hands find my arms immediately, pulling me toward him before I even understand what’s happening.

“Hey—hey,” he murmurs quickly, the fury that filled his voice seconds ago now gone. “Tink… breathe.”

But I can’t.

The air catches in the middle of my chest no matter how hard I try to drag it in. Sharp, choking panic claws up my throat and my whole body shakes as the room spins around me in slow, nauseating waves. Roman pulls me down into his lap as one arm wraps tight around my back and the other cups the back of my head before he presses my face into his shoulder.

“Shh,” he whispers against my hair. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He repeats the words in a quiet, steady rhythm whilst I fall apart against him. My fingers clutch the front of his shirt and my knuckles turn white as another sob tears through me. Somewhere nearby I hear chairs moving. But Roman doesn’t let go. His hand moves slowly up and down my back, the motion steady and grounding even while my chest keeps seizing with panic.

“It’s not tr—true,” I gasp. “IT’S NOT TRUE!” I scream through laboured breaths.

“Breathe with me,” he murmurs softly. “That’s it. Just breathe.”

I try.

God, I try.

But the air still won’t come properly and the panic keeps rising, squeezing tighter and tighter around my ribs until the world starts narrowing at the edges. The room dissolves into smears of colour even as my body trembles uncontrollably in his arms. Then suddenly the pressure shifts. The ground disappearsbeneath me and the panic spikes higher before I realise what’s happening. Roman lifts me, his arms slide beneath my legs and around my back as he stands.

Soon, softness meets my back. The sudden gentleness breaks through the panic just enough for me to realise he’s laid me down on his bed. I hear fabric shifting before my body jolts and he pulls the hoodie over my head and tugs the loose trousers down my legs; his movements are quick and careful like he’s trying not to startle me further. His skin feels burning hot when he pulls me back against him, bare chest pressed to mine as I cling to him, wrapping myself around him like a koala. The darkness of the room eases the tightness in my chest as he wipes the tears from my cheeks.

His forehead rests against mine.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers again.

And even though my body is still trembling and my lungs are still fighting for air, those words help anchor me whilst I’m deep inside the storm.

CHAPTER 21

FAE

The first thing I notice is the weight of Roman behind me. One arm is wrapped around my waist; his body is curved against mine and his breathing presses against my shoulder blades. The slow rhythm of it eases the restlessness in my chest before I’m even fully awake. My body still aches in places I’d rather not examine too closely, but the constant tension that lived under my skin for weeks has eased. My fingers curl against the sheets as memories of the last few weeks drift through my mind. Nights used to mean something very different then. I remember lying awake for hours listening to every tiny sound as my mind tried to decide which ones meant danger and which ones meant nothing at all. Roman shifts in his sleep. His arm tightens around my waist as if he can feel me drifting too far into my thoughts. His face presses deeper into the crook of my neck and the movement sends warmth through my chest.

I exhale.

God… I’ve missed this. Not just him, not just the way his arms feel around me. I missed the quiet certainty of it, the simple comfort of knowing I’m not alone when I close my eyes. My fingers drift down, resting over the arm wrapped around mywaist as the memory of last night returns in fragments. I squeeze my eyes shut.

God, I lost it.

Even worse, everyone saw it. I hate that the moment Longstaff pushed the right button I fell apart right in front of them. I know they probably understand. After everything that’s happened, anyone with half a brain would. But that doesn’t stop the embarrassment.