Page 63 of Born Wicked

The water shuts off, and I hear Roman moving around in the bathroom. And then, suddenly, the door is pulled open.

I’ve gotten one glimpse of Roman’s back when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. It was brief, stolen. But I have never seen this view…

Roman’s body is a weapon. There’s no other way to put it. It’s muscle and poised precision. And the slew of tattoos that run down the length of his right arm tell a story of death and emptiness and violence. Water rolls down his chest, slipping down to the towel that’s slung low over his hips.

I stare too long. I know I do.

But finally, my eyes slide up to meet his.

“You’re a vampire, Juliet,” he says. Those blue eyes practically glow with intensity and sincerity. “But you’re also human. Even we can only handle so much. The weight of the entire city got dumped onto your shoulders. There isn’t a single reason you should be embarrassed.”

I swallow once. This kind of honesty, this kind of sincerity, would normally make me uncomfortable. It’s a bad side effect of being such a sarcastic person. When things get real, I don’t know how to handle it well. But coming from Roman, in this moment? His words reach down into my soul. They seep into my heart.

And it knocks loose all the pent-up emotions I’ve been trying to keep a reign on for… Honestly, it feels like forever.

Emotions bite the back of my eyes. My lower lip feels a little unsteady.

“You’re completely competent, Juliet,” Roman says. And he takes a step forward. He grabs my hand, and pulls me to my feet. And he pulls me right into his chest, wrapping his arms around me with a strength I didn’t realize I needed until this moment. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

And the dam breaks. Tears rush from my eyes. I press my forehead into Roman’s chest, my arms wrapping around his waist, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping the world together. A sob wracks through me, a shuttering hiccup ripping through me as, for just a moment, I try to pull it all back in.

But it feels so good to let it all out. All the hurt. All the fear. All the overwhelm.

Another sob rips from my lips, and Roman’s arms tighten around me. His hands splay out on my back, and I don’t know that I’ve ever, in my whole damn life, felt so raw and vulnerable, yet so accepted.

“Chicago owes you everything, Juliet,” Roman says, pressing his lips into my hair. “You’ve earned respect from every last gifted, vampire, and human who steps foot in this city.”

Worth. I never had any of it growing up. I never felt it during college. I’ve worked my ass off to prove myself. But worth?

I don’t know that I’ve ever felt worthy until this moment.

I cannot pinpoint many healing moments in my life. Really, I’m not sure if I can truly recall any specifically. But right here, letting all of my pent-up pain and fear and stress seep out of me, letting Roman’s words wrap around every bone and muscle in my body, that’s exactly how it feels. Healing.

My arms tighten around Roman, and I press my face harder into his chest. He doesn’t take a single step back. His grip on me doesn’t loosen even for a second. He holds me while I let myself fall apart.

I suck in a shuttering breath after who knows how long. “I think I need some sleep. I’m not sure how long it’s been since I slept.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman offers, sliding his hands up and down my arms.

I blink as I look up at him, sending the last of the tears shedding down my cheeks. “Do you… do you mind if I just take a nap here until the meeting? Then we can head over together?”

There’s something that shifts in Roman’s eyes. It reminds me of the look he had before when I climbed out of the limo behind him. I don’t entirely understand it or know what it means. His hands still on my arms, and his grip tightens, just a tiny bit. “Of course. If you want to change, you’re welcome to anything in the closet. Do you want me to stay?”

I want him to stay almost more than anything I’ve ever wanted before. But I don’t know why. “I’m sure you have a million things to take care of. And I’m just going to be sleeping anyway. You go do what you need to.”

Maybe that’s a tiny bit of disappointment that flickers across his gaze, but it’s gone so quickly, I’m not sure I ever saw it in the first place. Roman nods. He steps away and walks into the closet, once again just barely out of view. Less than ten seconds later, he walks back out, fully clothed in his usual attire. Black jeans, a black long-sleeved Henley.

“I’ll be back at sundown,” he says, those blue eyes fixing on me, a promise somehow.

I nod. “Alright. Thanks. For letting me stay.”

“The offer still stands,” he says, his voice just a little rougher than it was before. “Any time.”

My eyes track him the entire time as he walks to the bedroom door, and then he’s gone.

I feel his absence immediately.

But instead of overthinking it, I step into the bathroom. I take a shower. And when I’m finished, I walk into Roman’s closet. A smile pulls on my lips. Ninety-nine percent of the items in here are black. I end up pulling a t-shirt from a hanger and slip it over my head.