The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2), Bethany-Kris [top 50 books to read .txt] 📗

her fidget. It felt like he was constantly trying to figure her out, and she wondered what he saw when he looked at her.

Did he see someone broken?

Lost?

Or maybe just her?

“Does that happen often?” he asked.

She’d lost the trail of their conversation in her distraction, and the furrow of her brow made Roman chuckle.

“Masha needing to sleep at your door,” he clarified. “I assume it’s to stop you from wandering off in your sleep, yeah?”

Right.

The nightmare.

Masha ...

Karine’s cheeks flooded with heat, and she no longer wanted to meet Roman’s gaze. “I ... well, it’s not ... it’s only—”

“You don’t have to answer,” he added quickly, saving Karine the embarrassment of continuing to stumble over her words. “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.”

Her silence grew the longer she considered what he said, and asked. Because she didn’t know how to answer his question truthfully without the shame eating her alive. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to answer.

She had some idea of what he thought of her. He’d suggested it already—that she needed professional psychiatric help to figure out and understand what had happened and was happening in her mind. Now, with Roman probing and away from the influences of her father’s control, she had no choice but to hold the stark reality in her hands.

Like a morbid offering for the man in front of her—here’s this mess they’ve made of me.

He didn’t take his eyes off her, and Karine couldn’t decide if that made it worse or better for her when it still felt like he could see right through her.

“I’ve not really had time to deal with ... all of this,” she said lamely, waving at herself. “That makes it hard.”

“I get it,” he replied quietly. “It’s fine, Karine.”

It wasn’t, but she wanted it to be.

Things like that were a lot sharper and clearer without the constant supply of mixed medications at the ready. Everything had become just a tad more difficult to deal with because she wasn’t so numb anymore. She couldn’t spend her days in a haze, walking around dazed, her time and thoughts and choices controlled by everyone around her as she certainly hadn’t been in a state to do anything for herself more often than not.

Mostly.

She was actually feeling things—real things, not manufactured by pharmaceuticals and a situation that was entirely out of her control. The universe seemed to enjoy playing cruel jokes on Karine because she hadn’t been at all ready for any of this.

No one cared to ask about that little detail, though.

She wasn’t sure she could do this, stand there in his room and be scrutinized by the intensity of his gaze. This was a bad decision. Katina had been right—what was she even doing here? She shouldn’t be there at all.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just thirsty—I’ll leave now,” she muttered under her breath.

Even her excuses weren’t good enough to her own ears, but it was all she had. When she swung around to leave, she caught the sight of Roman shifting straighter in the bed from the corners of her eyes.

“Wait, I have water here if you’re thirsty.” His voice stopped her in her tracks. He had to know she really didn’t want water—it was just the excuse to use to get away. She was tempted to look over her shoulder and say exactly that, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “But I’m not sure you are, babe. Thirsty, I mean.”

“I could be,” she replied shakily.

Why did her heart thunder like that whenever he was near? Better yet, why did she like it so much?

“Except you came here—in here. You wanted something, right? That’s why you came to my room.”

She shook her head in response to that. The last thing she wanted him to think was she needed him. Karine didn’t want to be only someone that he took care of. As it was, she relied on him—and others—far too much.

At least, that’s how it felt.

Karine wasn’t in Chicago anymore, she was surrounded by strangers here. Not that being engulfed by her father’s people and his world made any difference. Everywhere she looked, as far back as she could remember, she had been under threat.

Call it instinct.

Or force of habit.

Either way, running always felt better.

Right.

“I don’t want anything, I just—I-I should go,” she insisted, reaching for the doorknob. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep, either.”

Her hand froze before it could turn the knob. He couldn’t possibly know how he made it even more difficult for her to talk simply because she wanted to hear him more. That voice in her head commanded her to leave while she still had the chance to do so, but there was also a part of her too tempted to look back at him and ask why.

Except she didn’t need to.

“Karine, you’re here. You obviously wanted something. Do you know what you want?”

God.

Why did he have to be like that?

So, matter-of-fact.

Black and white.

It kind of pissed her off because when he offered her statements like that—so clear, no options but yes or no—she felt like she was lying to him if she didn’t answer. That didn’t mean she always had an answer, though. Or rather, one that would make sense.

“I don’t know, okay?” she snapped, throwing the words over her shoulder. Karine didn’t mean to let the irritation bubble over—it wasn’t his fault she had trouble dissecting her own wants and needs—and was quick to add, “You should know this about me by now, Roman. I never know what I want because it feels like I don’t even know myself.”

Roman hadn’t reacted once, not even when she raised her voice and snapped at him. She wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been expecting her outburst, or was trying to provoke one when he replied, without inflection, “And yet, you’re here in my room right now.”

Right.

He wasn’t wrong.

So, fine.

Turning and letting go of the doorknob, Karine raised her face up, thrusting her chin out in his direction—finally, she found