Running tired hands over his face, Rome took a deep breath, wondering who else may have read these notes. Bingham said he’d just taken the disk out of the safe-deposit box. X said he’d simply broken the encryption. Rome believed X. He trusted his friend. He did not trust Bingham, which posed yet another problem.
“Find what you were looking for, Mr. Roman?” Baxter asked.
Rome thought he was alone, but he wasn’t surprised at Baxter’s quiet entrance. The man moved as if his feet barely touched the ground. Over the years Rome had grown used to it. Besides, this big house might seem lonely without Baxter. More often than not, he felt lonely anyway.
But it was the life he led, the life he had to lead.
“Found more than I was looking for,” he answered finally. “Why didn’t Dad tell me what he was doing?”
“Fathers protect their sons,” Baxter said, moving through the room, no doubt looking for something to pick up. But Rome wasn’t messy. To the contrary, he believed everything had a place and made sure it was there. His master bedroom was on the far left side of the house and looked as if three normal-size bedrooms could fit into it. His bed was a huge four-poster that sat in the middle of the floor directly across from a huge fireplace. Rich colors like mahogany and charcoal gray and sapphire blue decorated the space. Books lined the walls while thick duvets and plump pillows occupied the bed. The master bath was to one side; a small private exercise room, to the other. He could stay in his suite for days without needing to leave. But he didn’t. The walls surrounding him would drive his cat crazy.
“Protect me from what? It wouldn’t have done any harm to share what he was thinking. Maybe I could have helped.”
“You were but a child, sir. Your father was doing what he thought was best.”
“Was getting himself killed best?”
Baxter paused, his thin frame looking almost lost in the midst of the big room. “It was probably necessary. You would not have grown into your destiny otherwise.”
There was that word again, destiny. His mother used it often, telling him there was a destiny for everyone, a life preordained for them. Rome thought it was all bullshit. He made his future. Yes, the job of Faction Leader, his allegiance to the tribes, that was probably planned. But his decisions led the way to what happened in the here and now.
“Some things are still hard for you to understand.”
“That’s because I get the feeling I still don’t know everything. If there’s more you can tell me, Baxter, please do.”
“Timing is crucial,” Baxter said, then moved to the bed, turning down the heavy gray duvet, removing the pillows that were simply for decoration.
He turned down Rome’s bed every night, no matter how many times Rome told him it was unnecessary. The fact that Baxter still cooked, cleaned, and basically ran this household was probably unnecessary, but Rome couldn’t imagine his life without him. He was the only family—besides Nick and X—that Rome had, pitiful as that was.
“The Rogues are plotting something now.”
“You are correct. How do you plan to act?”
“I still believe in what my father wanted.” Rome sat back in the chair and sighed. “Mostly.” This new revelation wasn’t what he’d expected. He hadn’t figured out how he was going to deal with it yet.
“All the Faction Leaders seem to feel the same. Some sort of judicial system is in order.”
Rome nodded. “I’ve got notes on that, suggestions for who should head up the Stateside Assembly.”
“I think it should be you.”
“Nah, not planning to nominate myself,” Rome said. He stood, moving to his bookshelf where he had his law books.
“You will lead them better than anyone else, Mr. Roman.”
“Not what I want to do with my future.”
“Sometimes your future chooses you.”
Rome didn’t even want to ask what that meant. He wanted to check in with Ezra to make sure Kalina was safe. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday when he’d stopped by her place. The emotions roiling through him when he’d been around her then had baffled him, made him feel like some distance might be necessary. Today he’d been closed up with his father’s journals, trying to make sense of the betrayal he felt. But now she was on his mind. Truth be told, she’d never been far from it.
“You should go to her.” Baxter’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What?”
“The female who has haunted you for so long. You should not stay away from her. Trouble is brewing in that direction, too.”
Baxter seemed to know everything. If Rome wasn’t absolutely sure the man was human, he’d think he was some kind of tribal Seer or something. He always knew things before they happened, prophesying about the shifters as if he were one, or he’d been born in the forest himself. But that was not the case. From all Rome knew of the man, he’d always been in his father’s employ; the where and why he didn’t know, and never bothered to ask.
“I have that under control.”
Baxter chuckled. “Then you are not as smart as I thought. You cannot control her until you understand everything and then—” He shrugged. “Control still may not be easy.”
And that was supposed to mean what exactly? Rome was about to ask, his face probably showing the confusion he felt, but from the desk his cell phone rang, vibrating over the smooth cherrywood, effectively ending this conversation with Baxter.
Chapter 13
When was the last time she’d been to a cookout?
Checking her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her closet door, Kalina sighed. “Never.”
She figured she looked okay in black capris and a gray T-shirt that could have been a size bigger if she cared anything about shopping, which she did not. Strappy sandals with a low heel completed her casual attire. She ran her fingers through her hair to give it an extra spike. It was growing out, so her two-toned tresses hung a little longer on the top than usual, but a trip to the beauty salon was another thing that wasn’t on her agenda. Her short haircut was not for stylish reasons, but practical ones—she didn’t like to do hair any more than she liked to shop. Maybe because growing up she didn’t have the money to get into either habit. It would make sense that once she became a working adult she’d readily do all the things she’d been deprived of when she was young. Instead, Kalina shied away from them all. Especially the socializing part.
Today, however, was going to be different.
Last night she’d lain in her bed thinking of her life, of things she could possibly want in the future but would never have if she kept on the track she was on. She loved her job, wanted to excel at it more than anything else, but suddenly she realized that work might not be enough. It could have been the way Mel talked about her husband or her kids. Or maybe it was the invite to today’s family function that kicked her mind into overdrive. Or maybe it was the way Rome kissed her, the way he looked at her like she was possibly the only woman in the world.
Now, that was a crock if ever she’d heard one. There was no happily ever after in her future; her life was what it was. Right?
Moving to the bed, she picked up her cell phone and grabbed the clutch purse she’d pulled out of the back of her closet to drop it in. It chirped, signaling that she had a text. Then she saw it was from Ferrell.
Need an update. Soon.
God, did he ever stop? It was Sunday afternoon, and the last thing she wanted to think about was how she didn’t have enough information to convict Rome Reynolds.
Kalina ignored the message and the urge to spend the day trying like hell to find something on a man she was attracted to.
