Page 32 of Vamp

“Alma, baby, I know I hurt you. I hurtus. Believe me, these past ten years have been a nightmare. There’s never been anyone but you. That’s what I’m here to prove to you.”

“Why?” I crossed my arms and lifted my chin, determined not to break, not to let down the walls I’d built around myself. “Why now, huh? Got too bored of living the high life? Is being famous starting to get dull? Your precious career sure as hell was more important than me back then, so what’s changed now?”

Something moved over his face that had every muscle in my body going tense. Anguish swam to the surface of his eyes before he blinked it away. His shoulders sank, his posture sagging like he couldn’t bear the weight of it.

“Randall died.” He spoke those words so quietly, but the impact of them was like a gunshot echoing through the entire house.

“Roan,” I said on a breath, my eyes going wide. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

He gritted his teeth, curling his lips back on a hiss as he raked a hand through his hair. “Nothing to say. It was too long coming, and I’m glad the mean old bastard’s finally gone.”

Something inside my chest splintered. “Roan, don’t say that. He was your dad.”

He held up a hand to stop me. “If there’s one person in this world who knows the truth about that man, it’s you. Youknow,Alma. The world is a better place now that he’s gone, and I’m not sad about it.”

I curled my lips between my teeth and bit down to keep silent. I couldn’t say he was wrong. Randall Blackwell was a piece of shit. Lower than the mud on the bottom of your shoe. He was the only man on the planet I could say without hesitation I hated. I believed down to my very bones the man was evil incarnate. Maybe it made me petty, maybe I was a bad person, but I couldn’t drum up even an ounce of sadness that he was gone.

“I’m not sad either,” I confessed in a hushed voice.

At my words, Roan’s eyes rounded, something sparked in the forest green depths, and before I could react, he moved, quick as lightning. One moment he was across the room from me and the next he was cupping my face in his hands, leaning in so deep he was all I could see. Earnestness was etched into every inch of those strong, chiseled features.

“You were the only one who ever knew. Who understood how I felt. And you were the only one who never tried to change me or talk me around. That was why I loved you so goddamn much. Why I still—”

My hand shot up, slapping over his mouth before the words could spill out. “Don’t,” I rasped hoarsely, the lump in my throat making it a struggle to breathe. I’d barely survived losing him the first time. If he told me he loved me, I knew there would be no coming back from that. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.”

He took me by the wrist and gently pulled my hand away. “But—”

“I’m telling you right now, I don’t want to hear it. So if you say it, you’re saying it for yourself. Not me.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, his brow furrowing as sadness etched into the planes of his face. When he opened them again, pain shined back at me, but I could deal with pain. I couldn’t deal with lies and false promises. Not again.

I did my best to school my features, sliding that mask right back into place, only this time, it was a struggle to get it to stick. “It’s time for you to go,” I said as I pulled my wrist from his grip and took two large steps backward. “I need you to go, Roan. I appreciate everything you did for me while I was sick, but nothing has changed between us. You need to leave.” The implication echoed in my words. We both knew I meant not only my home, but my town as well.

The sadness melted away, quickly replaced with a resoluteness that I knew would only mean problems for me.

“Okay, Alma. I’ll go. For now. But make no mistake. I’m here for you, and I have no intention of leaving Hope Valley until I’ve proven myself to you.”

On that declaration, he started toward the door, pausing at my side to say, “You’re due for another dose in an hour, sweetheart. Take it. And finish your soup.”

I stood frozen in place, breathing raggedly through my nose as I waited to hear the door close, announcing his departure. I didn’t know how, but somehow I managed to keep my eyes from watering over until he was gone. As soon as I heard the latch click, my shoulders slumped and I bowed forward. It took thirty seconds—I counted each slow, painful one—for me to get control of the tears that wanted to rip themselves free, but eventually I won.

A brush against my ankle caught my attention, and I looked down to see Tortellini plopped down beside my feet, only, he wasn’t looking up at me. He was staring toward the front door with a forlorn expression on his kitty face.

“Traitor,” I grumbled. Then I headed back to the kitchen for more of that incredible bread.

16

ALMA

Then

The first thing I did when I stepped through the front door of our apartment was kick off the torturous shoes my demented boss made us wear and let out a satisfied groan. Who the hell ever heard of waitressing in high heels?

He said it was so we could get better tips, but the women on staff knew it was only because he was a disgusting pig who liked to leer at our asses in our short skirts and stiletto heels. Each shift was like torture, but until I started getting callbacks from all the auditions I’d had, I was stuck with that shitty serving job to pay the bills.

“Hey baby,” I called as I hung my purse on the hook I’d installed beside the door and headed for the kitchen. “I’m home.”

I opened the fridge and pulled out the bottle of cheap chardonnay I’d opened the day before and poured myself a glass.