The Marriage (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 3), Bethany-Kris [books for 8th graders txt] 📗

TWELVE

“I don’t ... I don’t understand,” she finally settled on saying. “I thought Katina had—”

“Her plan—” He didn’t miss the wince Karine gave at that statement; Roman bet knowing her alter having a major hand in plotting the death of her father had to be a big blow. “Doesn’t seem to have gone through—at least, not how she expected.”

Roman had made his mind up to tell Karine everything this time. No matter how difficult that conversation would be, a part of her had played a big role in the events leading up to what he believed might have happened in Chicago. And she deserved to know how it could affect her now.

The hardest part was telling her about the hand Katina had in all this. No matter what her relationship with her father had looked like over the years—or the fact that she had been unfairly treated by him—Karine would not want to hurt him.

“I didn’t want to have to tell you this, Karine, and I tried to shield you from it as long as possible. Just until we had everything figured out because it was clear something wasn’t right from the start. It’s likely Leonid died in the fire, Dima’s been hiding it to use a false position of power and move around—nobody knows where Maxim is.”

It was a lot.

Even he knew it.

Karine stayed quiet while he held her in his arms, rubbing her shoulders with slow and steady pressure. She kept her face turned from him, but he could see the way her stare darted maniacally around the peaceful view of the garden. As if the small fish ponds would somehow give her the answers to Katina’s actions, and make sense of what Roman was saying.

“You flew all the way across the country just to tell me that?”

“You had to know—it could mean he’s coming for you. We don’t know that, or anything different, but we have to act like we do.”

“You could have told me on the phone,” she insisted.

“Could I, really?”

How well would that have gone over?

Karine didn’t argue that; he was more grateful than he would admit about it, too.

And he had more than enough money to burn so what was another four-hundred-k on a chartered jet? It was the paper trail risk that concerned him more than anything else, but he was always careful in that regard, anyway.

Karine shuddered as he held her, and she sniffled before covering her mouth to hide a soft cry. The sound alone was enough to cut him deep.

“I want to say he deserved it—that he deserved what she wanted to do to him, but he didn’t. Nobody does. It makes me just as terrible as Dima. It makes me a monster.”

Oh, this sweet woman.

She truly was too good for the world.

Their world, anyhow.

He took her face in his hands, stroking her silken cheeks with his thumbs and quickly swiping away any tears that dared to fall, saying fiercely, “Never, ever make the mistake of comparing yourself to that man. You can’t take fault for the actions of something you never had control of, to begin with—Katina was never you. She doesn’t think like you or act like you or even want the same things you do.”

“But she is me—in me. They’re like little doors. All these memories, and people, and things ... the feelings I don’t like or the images I can’t forget, I put them behind doors. And some of them won’t open again after I close them, and others never had a door to start with. She didn’t like it when I put one in front her. She’s still there, though. Always, there, Roman, and it takes so much to—”

“I know,” he murmured fast.

He bet that scared her the most, too.

Roman held her face a little tighter, adding, “But you know now that she’s only one piece, huh? And it doesn’t make a difference to me, anyway. This is the woman I love. This is the woman I kiss.”

He took her mouth in his, without warning, and bruisingly. She sank into the kiss instantly, gasping hungrily for breath, and tugging his lip with her teeth as she kissed him back ferociously.

He trailed his hands down the delicate line of her throat and over her trembling shoulders. Crushing her tighter against him when his hands splayed across her lower back, he whispered hoarsely, “You’re all mine, Karine. No matter what.”

“You’ll always tell me, won’t you? That you love me, remind me that I’m yours—you will, won’t you? Because I hear one thing in my head, but it can’t change what you do, Roman. Okay, so I just need you to keep telling me—”

“I will—forever. I promise.”

Her forehead laid against his chest, and he was fine to stay there like that with her for as long as needed, letting her cling to him like he was her lifeboat. Because frankly, she was the only lifesaver being thrown out for him to catch, too. She gave him a sense of purpose in his life, in a way he hadn’t had before, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to forgive himself for relapsing.

For using her as an excuse ...

Roman made a mental note to talk to Marky as soon as he got back to New York. His best friend deserved an apology for his behavior and resistance. No matter the shit he took for it, Marky had been there reminding Roman what, and who, was important.

Over Karine’s shoulder—Roman noticed a staff member from the facility walking hurriedly towards them down the path.

“Someone’s always gotta shit on my parade,” he said.

*

As it were, Marky had been attempting to reach him all morning, so he had no choice but to call the facility and ask for him directly.

Demyan warned Roman not to leave New York—his father was clear, but somethings just mattered more than an order. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going except for Marky because he needed at least one trustworthy,