Chapter 20

Nathan careens over the railing,reaching out to catch the railing, but his fingertips only brush the metal, and he plummets out of view, letting out a brief scream that's swallowed up by the loud roar of the ocean.

Driven by pure instinct, I gasp and rush to the railing. I wish I hadn't. Nathan is floating face down in the waves, blood seeping from a serious head wound. There's a rock jutting up from the surf right next to him, and he must have struck it when he hit the water.

"Oh, my, God." I reach up to touch my lips, my fingers trembling. I can't take my eyes off Nathan, his lifeless body shifting subtly with the movement of the water. "What the fuck?"

Roman pulls me against him. I'm so shocked by what I just witnessed, I don't even fight him. With a choked sob, I melt against him, burrowing my face in his warm chest. And he holds me like that for several long seconds before finally pulling back, and smoothing his thumb over my chin.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes. No." I shake my head. "I don't know."

"We need to leave," he says softly. "If Nathan knew we were here, then we have to assume my brother does, too."

I swallow and nod once, numb. I thought I would feel overjoyed once I found Bree's killer. But in reality, I feel her loss all the more, because killing Nathan didn't bring her back. Nothing can.

"Where will we go?" I ask.

He shrugs one shoulder, his gaze exploring my face. "We could go anywhere—Big Bear, New York, Italy. Somewhere my brother can't find us."

With a sigh, I look away, the crisp ocean breeze whipping through my hair. "No," I say, glancing up at him. "I want to go home, back to Rush House."

I'm so tired, and all I want to do is sleep in Roman's bed, in his arms, surrounded by him, in our own little bubble. If Nathan has taught us anything, it's that we can't run from this.

"Rush House isn't a good idea. That's the first place James will go."

I blink up at him. "Didn't you hire security? Christian said they were ex-Navy SEALs or something."

I have a hard time believing James could make it past several guys trained in warfare. James is strong, but if the ex-SEALs have weapons, then it's no contest.

Roman presses his lips together, and I can tell he doesn't love the idea of going back to Rush House, but he doesn't want to deny my request, either.

Finally, he nods. "Okay, we'll go back to Rush House, but if there's any sign that James is lurking around, we're out. I won't risk your safety."

When we arrive at Rush House, there are several huge guys with guns stationed at every exterior door on the ground floor. They watch us closely as we make our way up the long driveway, and park in the back.

Roman gets out first, coming around to open the passenger side door. He offers me his hand, hauling me out of the bucket seat, then ushering me to the back door like I'm an A-list actress trying to avoid the paparazzi.

The bodybuilder standing guard at the backdoor steps aside to let us pass. He dips his head in greeting as we pass by. "Mr. Rush."

"Any updates?" Roman asks.

"We're all clear. No sightings have been reported."

"Thanks," Roman says. I can practically see the tension leave his shoulders as he pulls me through the back door, then turns and locks it. I follow him through the empty kitchen and down that hall to the living room.

Our footsteps echo in the empty house, and it strikes me how strange it is to have no one here. This place always has people coming and going night and day. Clearly, because of James, they've had to keep everyone out, and I get that, but damn it's weird.

When we step into the living room, Jackson, and Christian are playing pool. They look up as we walk in.

"Where's Lucas?" Roman asks abruptly.

"Upstairs," Christian answers. "Probably sleeping. Why, what's up?" His crystal-blue gaze slides to me. "Aren't you guys supposed to be at Exeter House?"

Roman tilts his head back, and pushes out harsh breath, like fuck. Then he straightens and nods at Christian. "Text Lucas. Get him down here, we need to talk. Like, now."

"A'right, man. Chill. I got you." Christian pulls his phone out of his back pocket and sends off a quick text. A response pings through immediately. "He's awake. He's coming down now."

"What's going on?" Jackson asks, walking over. His gaze catches on the cut below my collarbone first, then his eyes climb to my face. I can only imagine what I must look like. I cried all the way over here, so I'm sure my cheeks are bright red, and my eyes are puffy. Well, they feel puffy, anyway. I can barely open them.

Roman waves Jackson off. "Let's wait ‘til Lucas gets here."

Lucas strides into the room, chewing on a piece of jerky, a question on his handsome face. He glances between Roman and me, confused. "What are you guys doing here? I thought you were staying at Exeter House for the next few days."

"Yeah, change of plans," Roman bites out. "Which one of you fucking cunts sent Nathan over with our stuff?"

I swallow and step back because it sounds like Roman is itching for a fight, and Ibrace myself for the inevitability that fists are going to fly. Roman is tense, and itching for a fight.

The guys all stiffen at Roman's accusatory tone. At that moment—the worst possible time—Ash swaggers into the room. He's got a water bottle in his hand, and he removes the cap to take a swig. "I thought I heard voices," he says with a mocking smile. "Are we having a meeting?"

Roman goes from tense, to positively murderous in the span of a millisecond. Thank God, Jackson and Lucas are standing between Roman and Ash, who's standing cluelessly in the doorway.

"Get the fuck out," Roman says through gritted teeth, barely holding onto the tether of his anger. We're just one snarky comment away from absolute mayhem breaking out.

I rush forward, and rest my hand on Ash's chest, almost trying to push him out of the room, but not quite. "Now isn't a good time," I say, begging him with my tone to please leave. After what just happened with Nathan, Roman is like a powder keg ready to explode. "I'll explain everything later," I whisper.

His light-colored brows pinch together in concern as his eyes wander over my face. He'd be blind not to see something is wrong.

"Nah," he says, shaking his head. Then his gaze shifts to Roman and the guys. "This place is locked down tighter than the fucking Pentagon. I had to show some dude at the door my ID just to get in. And I can see Lux has been crying. What the actual fuck is going on?"

Roman takes an aggressive step forward, reaching out to pull my hand off Ash. "None of this is your fucking business," he growls. "Especially Lux."

Jackson steps up behind Roman, pointing his finger at Ash. "You should really get the fuck out of here before I—"

"Stop!" I yell, interrupting Jackson. Goddamn. Talk about testosterone poisoning. I swear. These guys are just looking for reasons to fight, but unfortunately, we have way bigger fish to fry. Like Nathan lying dead right below our suite at Exeter House.

"You're forgetting that Ash is a Sacred Son now," I say. "He's the Sacred Son while you guys are waiting for your tribunals…"

I really shouldn't be reminding them why they're mad at me, but if Ash isn't going to leave the room quietly like I'd hoped he would, then I need to remind everyone who is actually in charge here, whether they like it or not.

Jackson hisses. "That's fucking bullshit."

Roman pulls me closer to him, so close that when he speaks, I can feel the rumble in his chest. "You're lucky we don't have time to deal with you right now," he says to Ash, then refocuses his attention on the guys. "Nathan came to our suite at Exeter House, and tried to kill Lux."

There's a collective what the fuck moment that I absolutely share. I still can't believe it myself. I don't think any of us saw this coming.

"He also killed Bree," I say, my voice hitching on Bree's name. "She overheard you guys talking about your plan to manipulate me, and Nathan killed her to keep me from finding out."

Ash steps forward, all of that bravado from a couple of seconds ago gone. "Wait, what?" His shocked gaze lands on me. "What plan? Did these guys do something to you, Lux?"

Dear God.This is far too much to explain right now. "I'll explain everything later," I say again.

Lucas's handsome face is hard and angry. "Where's Nathan now?"

Roman's hand squeezes my hip. "Splattered on the rocks under our balcony."

"Oh, fuck," the guys hiss in unison. But it's Jackson who asks the follow-up question, "Did he jump, or was he uh, helped over the railing?"

Roman meets his eyes. "He attacked Lux," he says like that's the only explanation required. Jackson nods, and Lucas starts pacing.

Christian leans against the pool table, and lights up a blunt, pulling in a lungful of smoke. He nods like he's thinking. "I'll talk to Byron. He's on the senior counsel and has a stake in Exeter House. I'm sure he'll want this Nathan shit swept under the rug quickly. A murder investigation isn't exactly good for business, right?"

Roman nods. "Thanks." His gaze sweeps over everyone's face. "Any news on James?"

"Not really." Jackson crosses his arms over his chest. "Though my uncle at the Sheriff's Station did say there were a couple of thefts in the area. One house had a gun stolen."

I suck in a sharp breath, and I must have made a sound because everyone turns toward me. "James could have a gun?" I'm trying to keep the panic out of my voice, but I'm not sure I'm successful.

Roman brushes his thumb over the curve of my cheek. "We don't know it was James," he says softly. "Anyone could have stolen that gun."

I nod and swallow back the tears that threaten to erupt all over again. I know logically that Roman is right. It's no use jumping to assumptions. But, still, the knot in my stomach tightens, and I suddenly feel nauseous. Just the possibility that James could have a gun is terrifying.

Christian pushes off the pool table with the blunt hanging loosely from his perfect lips. "James probably doesn't have a gun—" His gaze slides toward me like he's saying that to comfort me. "But I should let the SEALs know that it might be a thing." He holds a finger up and strolls toward the door. "Don't say anything interesting until I get back."

I blow out a breath slowly to try and calm my nerves. It's not working, but it feels like I'm doing something constructive, so I continue doing it.

"Everything I just heard is so unbelievably fucked up." Ash crosses his arms over his chest. "And I have no fucking clue what's going on. But if Lux is in danger, that's all I really need to know. What do you need me to do?"

Roman sighs. "Grab a few of the other members, and canvas the campus. We need to find James."

Something has shifted in Roman, just slightly. Maybe it's Ash's willingness to help, even though he knows next to nothing about what's going on. Or maybe it's Ash's sentiment about me. Whatever it is, the anger in Roman's voice has been tempered.

"Got it," Ash says, and with one last lingering look at me, he turns to leave. Just as he's about to walk out of the room, into the hallway, he lifts his hand in the air. "Keep your phone handy. I'll text you."

That leaves Lucas. "I guess I'll help Jackson figure out what we're doing about Nathan. We need to get the narrative about Bree's murder out there before Nathan's very wealthy family finds out, and starts working on damage control."

I lean against Roman and nod faintly. I'm so tired. I really just want to go upstairs, curl up in Roman's huge bed, and fall asleep with my face buried in his chest.

"Let's go upstairs, baby," Roman says, reading my thoughts. His pale gaze flicks over my face. "We both need some rest."

With another nod, I follow him upstairs and as soon as we get to his room, I collapse onto his bed. The mattress at Exeter House was heavenly, but there's just something about this bed. Roman's bed. Just crawling under the covers makes me feel safe. I know that's just an illusion, a lie, but I cling to it with white knuckles, because it's everything I need right now.

Roman moves around the room, checking to make sure James isn't hiding in the closet, or the shower, then he makes sure the windows and balcony doors are all locked. Once he's satisfied the room is secure, he kicks his shoes off and climbs under the blankets, facing me. He adjusts the pillow under his head, then reaches up to brush the tip of his finger across my bottom lip. It's such an intimate thing, lying here like this, I can almost pretend the last few months never happened.

Almost.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly. It's the second time he's asked me that in the span of thirty minutes.

"No." I swallow. "I thought Nathan was a friend. He was nice to me, or…I thought he was being nice to me. Turns out I was just being manipulated. Again." I laugh, but the sound comes out sad. "I guess I have a habit of trusting all the wrong people."

The side of his lips curls up into a half-smile because he knows I'm including him in that list. "No, it's that the wrong people are attracted to your goodness," he says. "You're a light in the darkness, and we can't help but be drawn to that."

I watch my own finger trace an invisible path down his jaw, then over his chin. "I think I love you, Roman Rush," I whisper.

I don't know why I'm admitting this right now. The quiet of the moment just kind of pulls it out of me. One of those spaces in time where it feels right to confess your most secret thoughts.

His beautiful lips stretch into a smile. "Do you, now?"

I shrug one shoulder, and sadness fills me. "But it's not enough, is it? Love isn't enough to overcome everything that's happened."

His smile fades, and his dark brows knit together. "Of course it is."

I roll onto my back and release a sigh. "Love is nothing without trust," I say, turning my head to look at him. "And I know, in my gut, you'll always choose James. I wish I could fault you for that, but I can't. He's your brother, and some bonds are just stronger than others."

He rises up onto his elbow. "It's not about choosing, Lux." His eyes search my face. "I can't give up on him. I have to believe he can get better."

In a weird way, I get it. Kind of. If Bree had gone off the rails, I would have done everything humanly possible to help her. But enabling James's violent and destructive behavior isn't helping. It's pandering.

I don't say any of that, though, because I've accepted that Roman and I will never see eye and eye on this topic. And, if I'm being honest, I'm too tired right now to argue my point. Not that it would help anyway. We'd just end up talking in circles.

I close my eyes and push out another sigh. "I'm tired."

Roman's warm hand dips under my shirt, and settles on my stomach. "I wish you'd trust me," he whispers.

I don't look at him, because I'm afraid of the pain I'll see in his eyes if I do. "You know I can't do that," I whisper back.

He doesn't respond, because, really, what can he say? He knows he fucked up. He knows we can't come back from what he did. It is what it is at this point.

He nestles in closer to me, his arm tightening around my body, his face burrowed into my neck, my hair.

This is so nice, Roman curled around me, his warm breath lulling me into a sense of contentment, beckoning me toward the soothing promise of sleep…