Chapter 12

I can't sleep.After Christian left earlier, Wyn came over to tell me there were some pretty serious threats against me online and it was a lot more serious than Christian let on. He made it sound like a minor thing, but Wyn showed me the post, and it was basically a death threat.

Goddamn. What have I done to deserve any of this?

The Sacred Sons manipulate, threaten, and even kill people, and yet somehow I'm the one people are pissed at. It's fucking wild, and I just don't get it.

But I won't lie, the post scared the shit out of me. Whoever wrote it was pissed, and after what happened to Bree, I have no choice but to take it seriously.

The first thing I did was report the post to both the University and the police, but I'm not delulu enough to believe they're going to do shit about it. I'm on my own. That much is painfully clear.

How did everything get so royally fucked up? Where exactly did my life careen so unbelievably off course?

All I wanted was to go to college and get a fresh start. That's it.

But the second Bree and I set foot on this campus, we were fucked. Scratch that, before we even set foot on campus. Roman and his bros made sure of that. Nothing Bree or I did could have changed that.

Still, I'm not powerless. After my assault last year, I was determined to never be a victim again. It's taken a lot of work to get to the point where I could even set foot on this campus, and I'm not letting anyone scare me. Not even the campus king.

My alarm goes off at six o'clock in the morning. It's my early day, and even though I haven't slept at all, I pull myself out of bed. I have class in an hour, and the one thing I learned about working through trauma is that keeping a schedule is good. A schedule keeps my mind and body moving forward. So, even though it's the absolute last thing I want to do, I force myself to get up and get dressed.

After a quick shower, I reach for my usual, jeans and a baby-T, then I grab my backpack and head out the door. Two steps into the hallway, I practically trip over an outstretched leg. I suddenly remember that Nathan was posted outside my door, but when I glance down, it's not Nathan staring back up at me.

My breath catches.

Roman.

He's sitting on the wood floor outside my door, back pressed against the opposite wall, one leg bent, the other stretched out in front of him. He looks up expectantly and I hesitate because I didn't expect to see him right now, at six forty-five in the morning.

Pushing off the wall, he stands up. His hair is mussed, and there are dark circles under his eyes like he's been sitting out here all night and hasn't slept. I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

"Wow, you really have a death wish," I say, glaring at him.

He glances down the hallway, then back at me, his gaze flicking over me from head to foot, like he's assuring himself I'm okay. I might find that cute if I didn't know what a psycho he is.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he lifts his chin toward his bedroom. "Can I come in?"

Is he for real?

"No."

Fucking asshole.

He rubs his chin, which is dark from not shaving, and dips his head. He fucked up royally, and he knows it, but that doesn't make any of this okay. But when he looks up at me from beneath his lashes, something inside me jolts. The treacherous side of me. The really dumb side of me.

I lean against the doorframe. "Just tell me what you want, Roman. I need to get to class."

He glances down the hallway again, almost like he's waiting for someone to show up. "I need to talk to you about something."

I motion, like, okay, talk then.

"Privately."

No one in the house is even awake at this hour, but whatever. Releasing a heavy sigh, I step aside so he can enter the room. I know I shouldn't be alone with him—God only knows what he's capable of—but I need to get this conversation over with.

"The door stays open," I say, standing next to it, cracked open. If shit goes down, I have an easy escape. "And I'll remind you, there are several other people in this house. All I have to do is scream."

Roman shoves his fingers into his hair, pulling as he glances up at the ceiling. He only ever does that when he's stressed. And he should be. I intend to make his life hell.

I cross my arms over my chest. "What is it?"

Dropping his head, he looks at me with fear in his eyes. Like, real fear. And Roman is never afraid. He walks through life with the confidence of someone who has everyone at his beck and call. Like someone in complete control. Seeing the fear in his eyes now spikes my own anxiety.

"I've hired a security detail to follow you," he says. "They should be here any minute."

I lift my hands. "Yeah, Christian told me that yesterday."

If he's looking for a thank you, then he needs to get his head checked. He's the reason I need a security detail in the first place.

"I think it's best if I move back in here with you, too, just…for a while."

I look at him like he's seriously lost it. "No."

The end. Period.

He reaches out to me, but I back up, so he doesn't make contact. "Lux–"

Holding my hand up, I try my very best not to raise my voice. People are still sleeping, and I'm not a total asshole. "Roman, you need to leave me alone. Hire security, fine. Whatever. But all I can think about right now are all the different ways I can kill you and get away with it. So, yeah, you and me being in the same room isn't a good idea."

The pain in his eyes guts me. It really does. I wish I could just turn that part of me off, the part of me that cares about him, but it's not that easy. Honestly, I wish I'd never set eyes on him. But that was never really a choice, was it? He'd started manipulating me before I ever even set foot in Malibu. I never stood a fucking chance.

"I didn't want any of this to happen," he says, his voice breaking. "You have to fucking believe me, Lux."

I shake my head. We're already getting into territory I'm not ready to explore. "Is this why you came? Because if it is, we can end this conversation right now."

He blows out a breath. "No, um…" His voice trails off and I can tell whatever he's about to say isn't going to be good. "I got a call last night, and my brother has…left the rehab facility."

I hear the words, but they don't sink in. "What do you mean left?"

"He escaped."

Escaped.

I reach over and push the door shut, so it clicks, then I lock it.

"What the fuck do you mean he escaped? I thought those places were supposed to be secure?"

Panic rises in my throat, and I suddenly feel faint.

"I'll find him, Lux," he says, stepping toward me. "I won't let him touch you."

My gaze collides with his, and I'm sure he sees the fear in my eyes because I can't even hide it at this point. The idea that James is out there somewhere—walking around freely—is fucking terrifying. "He doesn't know where I am," I say out loud, more to myself than to him.

"He had access to the internet," Roman says. "And before Bree died, she posted a picture of the two of you at ExU on social media."

I remember her taking one picture when we first arrived. It was Bree and me in front of the Exeter University West sign. I'd asked her not to post it because after everything happened, I was still reluctant to put my information out there on the internet. But she just teased me for being overly cautious and posted it anyway.

If she were here now, I'd tell her I told you so.

I fall back against the wall behind me. "I deleted all of my social media accounts, so she couldn't have tagged me."

"But James knew you were friends," Roman says. "And he knew where to look for information. I found the post pulled up on his laptop."

I want to scream, or cry, or throw up. Maybe all three at once. "I can't believe this." I walk over to Roman's bed and sink down onto it.

I'd blame Roman for this, and believe me I want to, but in the end, I'm the one who agreed to the rehab center. I'm the one who wrote to the judge. Me.

"We should leave," Roman says. "Go somewhere."

I look at him like he's crazy. "I have class, Roman. And anyway, you said you hired security. If it comes down to it, they can handle James." I pause. "They have guns, right?"

"I won't let you get hurt, Lux. Trust me."

My gaze flicks up to meet his. "You're far too late for that, Roman. I've been hurt more in the last few weeks than I've ever been hurt in my life. The pain you inflicted was one thousand times worse than what James could ever do to me."

And it's the truth. I trusted Roman. I gave him my whole heart, and what did he do? He betrayed me in the worst possible way.

I don't think I can ever forgive him for that.