Julianna

Rosaline corroborated Roman's story. Her lies perfectly matched his. Too perfect. He must have known that Eddie's body had been found. He must have known that he'd be interrogated.

Roman disappeared behind a wall of expensive lawyers. We couldn't hold him. Not unless we could find more evidence.

"Don't leave town," Espo said with a scowl as he held the station door open for Roman.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Roman said, his eyes on me. "Not while I'm having so much fun here."

I flushed under his stare and hoped to hell that Espo didn't notice. My mind flashed to what he had done to me in the interrogation room. I shivered at the memory of his fingers inside me. Damn you, Roman Tyrell. Damn you in the best way.

* * *

Roman was standingin my living room when I returned home that evening. I quickly locked my front door behind me and deposited my bag on the side table. He still hadn't moved or said a word. I frowned as I studied him. His features, which earlier had seemed lightened by my admission that I knew he was innocent, were now grim. An uneasy feeling coiled in my belly. Something had changed since he walked out of the police station earlier today.

"Where have you been these last two days?" I asked, something I'd not been able to ask before now. "I was so worried when I didn't hear from you. No response. Nothing. Then Eddie…"

His features twitched at that name, but he didn't speak. Something was wrong.

"Roman, talk to me." I moved towards him.

He avoided my grasp and we found ourselves circling each other. A flash of pain cut across his face. "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"I can't pretend to be someone I'm not."

"I don't understand. Why won't you let me touch you?" I reached for him again but he grabbed my wrists.

The cold, cruel mask he wore with such a practiced ease, the one I hated so much, slammed down over his face. "I am a Tyrell." Even his voice calloused over. "It doesn't matter how hard I try to fight it, it's in my blood. I can never get away from it. It's part of me. The only thing you can do is to be smart. Walk away."

I shook my head and yanked against his grasp. "I won't?—"

"You have a choice. Be smart. Walk away from me."

"You have a choice, too."

"I have no choice." His voice boomed out like a gunshot. He let go of me as if I'd burned him, one of his hands coming up to run through his hair.

I refused to flinch. I refused to be swayed, to give up like he obviously already had. I would fight for both of us. "You always have a choice."

His gaze snapped to mine. His eyes were now the only thing that was alive in him; they burned like they were on fire. "You don't understand."

"No, you don't understand. I love you." These words spilled out of me. The words were like a stopper. As soon as they were released out came a pouring bubbling mess of every feeling I had tried to deny to myself. I loved him. I loved Roman Tyrell. I let out a strange, curt giggle as my chest tickled full of fireflies.

His eyes widened for a single moment. For a single moment I thought I had reached him. His tenderness turned to bitter ash. "You can't possibly love me."

"I do." I grabbed his tense shoulders and matched his stare, begging him to believe me. "You're a good man who?—"

"A good man." His face twisted, darkness leaking into every crease. He pushed my hands off him. I burned and crumpled with rejection. "Let me tell you what this good man did."

"There's nothing you can say that would?—"

"I killed Eduardo Sanchez."

The blood drained from my face. My fingers grew cold as they hung from numb arms. "You're lying."

"I am not. I pointed the gun at his head and I pulled the trigger." There was no remorse on his face. No sign of guilt. Just pure, dark hatred. Hatred for me? Or…himself?

I shook my head like I was batting away the words coming out of his mouth. This was a mistake. A dream. A nightmare. This wasn't the real Roman standing here talking to me.

I could not believe it. There must be some reason… "Why? Were you forced into it? Did your father?—"

"He could not be trusted to keep what I did for you a secret. You were in danger if he lived."

"I would kill for her." Roman admitted it in the interrogation room. I just hadn't been listening.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Roman said nothing. He just stood there while my world was shaking under my feet. Why would he do this? Why would he admit such a thing, if it were even true?

Realization struck me. "You want to push me away."

"You should be running, not walking away from me, Jules."

I shook my head. "You...you were just protecting me."

"I am a Tyrell," he repeated. "I'm nothing but a bloodthirsty monster."

"No," I said. "You are not a monster. You're a good man who did a bad thing. You were just protecting me."

"I am not a good man."

"You are. You saved me from being raped. From being kidnapped."

"I killed both those men."

"To protect me. Only to protect me."

He shook his head violently. "Stop turning everything into something good."

"You are good. Deep down, you are."

"I tried to be good for you, but I can't fake it anymore. I am a Tyrell down to the core."

Something had happened; I could see it clearly. Something had happened in the last two days to make him think there was no hope for him. The last flame was extinguished after he left the police station.

I still burned with hope. I had to hope it was enough.

"What happened while you were away? What happened this afternoon?"

His eyes glittered with hatred. "I woke up."

I grabbed his neck, sliding my other palm on his cheek. "Roman," I pleaded, "you are not your father."

Believe me, you have to believe me.

I saw the flash of surprise in the lift of his brows. For a second I thought I'd finally gotten through to him…

His eyes turned to stone, dead and lifeless. "Jules, don't embarrass yourself any further," he said slowly like I was a child being lectured. "Just accept it. You and me." He pushed my hands off him. "It's over."

It's over.Two words like twin swords, piercing me through the heart. "You… You don't mean that."

"This was fun. But I'm bored now. I…I want someone else."

"I don't believe you. You're just saying that to make me give up on you. I won't give up on you."

"I'm not yours to fight for anymore." He swallowed hard, as if his words were only half chewed. "I'm going to marry Rosaline."

Rosaline. An image of his arm around her flashed through my mind. Bitter hot jealousy tore ragged edges along my veins. This could not be happening. This could not be his decision. "Your father," I blurted out as realization struck me. "Is your father making you marry her?"

"I'm marrying her because I want to."

"You can't… You… You don't love her." Was I trying to convince him? Or me?

His lip curled up in a scowl. "Why? You thought that I loved you?" His cruel words were knives, each one aiming to be my death blow.

I inhaled sharply, my eyes filling with tears, my heart fluttering like a dying butterfly, hanging on to the thinnest silk thread of hope. "Please. Don't do this, Roman."

"It's already been done. The date is set. Six weeks from now. Don't expect an invitation."

My heart crumpled in on itself. Shock gave way to raw, agonizing pain. I felt my body trembling, shattering apart. He had given up. My prediction, our fate, my worst nightmare had come to life.

Fuck him for giving up. I would not give him the satisfaction of watching me fall to pieces. I would not let him see me cry. "Get out."

His mask crumpled. He didn't really want this, I could see it underneath his peeled back edges. He had already decided that he would never be good enough to be loved. I'd lost him the moment I'd met him.

"Jules…" his voice, suddenly soft, was little comfort. He reached out for me. How dare he try and soothe the wounds he made?

If he touched me I'd fall apart. I'd give in. I'd beg him to stay. I could not bear to beg him.

"Get out and don't ever come back," I screamed, my voice breaking as anguish tightened its clawed fist around my neck, letting just enough air in to keep me mercilessly alive.

He drew back his hand. I got to keep what little pride I had left. He looked like he had many more things to say. He didn't give voice to them. He walked quietly to my door and I turned my back on him; I couldn't bear to watch him leave.

Then he was gone.