Well, she hadn’t.
Karine did.
Katee, too.
They trusted him, but they weren’t here. She was—and so far, she didn’t have a reason to distrust Roman.
“Well, I’m glad you trust me, but I have some questions for you,” Roman murmured, watching her from the corner of his eye. “Don’t feel like you have to answer, but—”
“What?” She clasped her fists tightly, feeling the pinch of her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands, not sure she wanted to hear his question but still saying, “Just ask.”
Roman tightened his grip on the steering wheel more. He checked the mirrors again as the question slipped from his mouth. “Why did you plot to kill your father?”
Katina’s gaze narrowed.
Anything but this.
She turned away to observe the trees that passed them by in a blur of green as they left the miles of fields behind. Her eyes were unable to focus on just one. She wished he hadn’t asked her that question.
Specifically, that way.
A few more moments of silence passed, and she felt the brush of Roman’s hand on her knee. Her instinct usually dictated her to jerk away, to react violently to a man’s touch—but she didn’t. This time.
She met his gaze, then, and he took his eyes off the road to look at her, too.
“You don’t have to answer that,” he said.
“He’s not my father.”
“Karine’s, then, but you—you have the sister’s name, right?”
“She’s dead.”
Roman didn’t even blink. “And you’re definitely not.”
“Definitely not. He’s not my father.”
Beside her, he nodded. “And the rest?”
Right.
The why.
Why did she do it—try to do it.
Katina was unsettled at the quiver in her voice when she whispered, “Maybe someday, I’ll tell you.”
If he noticed, he didn’t say. Roman nodded, and that was that. Perhaps she expected him to fight her for an answer—to threaten and lay down ultimatums like most men did when they didn't immediately get their way. As it turned out, he wasn’t like any man she had ever met before.
He wasn’t going to force anything.
“Aren’t you curious about Karine? Isn’t she the one you want?” Katina asked.
She found herself as curious as she was afraid of his answer. And she wasn’t quite sure why.
Roman shrugged, replying, “I’m sure wherever she is, she’s safe. Because of you—I suspect. And Katee.”
“Maybe. Katee only wants to play. Me—I had no other choice. No one else was going to step in and do something, so I did. If she didn’t kill herself, someone else probably would.”
If he was shocked at her frankness, he didn’t show it. Roman’s eyes did narrow a bit as he stared straight ahead at the road. She couldn’t help but wonder what was running through his mind, and no matter what he said, Katina knew she was right.
He did want Karine.
“You know, I’ve read a few romances—watched some movies—and in all of them, the hero saves the woman he loves. But the only love Karine knows is painful. Left her feeling ashamed and degraded. A love that was unworthy, that she used against those around her in order to survive.”
She wasn’t the chatty type, but the words kept spilling.
“I don’t believe in happily ever afters,” Katina added, lifting one shoulder in a shrug when he glanced over at her. “And this isn’t a romance, is it? You’re not a hero. You don’t love me. You don’t even love Karine.”
She didn’t want him to answer. It would hurt her if he agreed with her, which she knew he would, but she hated liars even more. He didn’t seem like the type to lie.
Instead, he said, “There is a lot we don’t know about each other, Katina.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks.
What did that mean?
Better yet, what did she want to hear?
“Is this how you love?” she asked, honestly curious. The risks and decisions he’d made surrounding Karine certainly didn’t feel ... safe. Even if they were good. “Uncontrolled and uncontained? Erratic and unexpected? Risking it all? Crazy love doesn’t scare you?”
He barely even thought about it, the words coming out easily. “That’s the only way to love—if you’re gonna. What good is giving someone the world if you haven’t ruined it first to get to them?”
The next breath stuttered in her lungs.
No.
This wasn’t some fairy tale romance—and he certainly wasn’t a hero. That didn’t mean the man couldn’t sound like one, and that only interested Katina more. Because then she found herself thinking ... do bad men make good heroes?
Could they?
If they even existed.
“What happens now?” she asked lowly, turning back to the window and the racing scenery.
“I don’t know,” Roman replied, “and I especially don’t know what happened to Karine and Katee back in that house, but they’re not going back there. Ever.”
Katina swallowed around the large lump that had formed in her throat, knowing she shouldn’t, and still telling him anyway, “The worst things happened to them there.”
• • •
Want more of Roman and Karine’s story—check for book 2, THE PROMISE, to continue the trilogy ...
Here’s a sneak peek:
Chapter 1
The mind was a messy thing.
A fickle thing.
Karine’s was even worse. Her hair blew in the breeze coming through the rolled-down window, while she kept her face turned away from Roman because she didn’t want to meet his eyes. The intensity she always found staring back from the striking blue gaze distracted her in ways she couldn’t explain, and the last thing she needed was to drown in them.
Hell.
She was already drowning in herself, after all—in her mind, the hellscape was a dying carcass circled by the vultures that were her thoughts. Things she didn’t want to see, others that she’s worked so hard not to know ... she couldn’t possibly deal with an overwhelming man, and the violent currents inside her mind at the same time.
Karine also didn’t know what to say to Roman without it sounding like an attack. Instead, she remained silent, her stare locked beyond the window at the passing scenery whether she was actually seeing it, or not.
So did Roman.
The only sound came from Masha’s soft, rhythmic inhales and
