Page 77 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“And if he’s watching?” I ask. “If he’s waiting for exactly that?”

“Then we can deal with it,” she says, like it’s simple.

But it isn’t. None of it is. I look away, my hand pressing flat against the counter as the pressure behind my eyes builds again, sitting heavy and unrelenting as everything stacks on top of itself. Because this isn’t just about Robyn leaving. It isn’t even just about her possibly taking Fae with her.

“You can’t control everything, Roman.”

“I’m not trying to control everything,” I say, knowing it’s a lie the second it leaves my mouth.

Her hum is soft and disbelieving.

“Sweet boy… you are.”

“My focus is where it needs to be,” I grit out as she steps closer and raises her hand to rub across my back.

“No,” she replies, calm but firm. “Your focus needs to be you, Fae and the baby. Everything else is noise.”

“And you,” I mutter.

“No,” she says. “Not me.”

I glance at her as a frown pulls at my brow.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ve lived long enough to know what this is,” she says. “I look after you, Roman. Not the other way around. Do you understand me? If something comes for you, and now Fae and that baby, it goes through me first. That’s what being your mother means.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Mum. You know I don’t like it.”

“You don’t need to like it; you need to understand it. I will always choose you. Your father made his choice and I made mine.”

I don’t respond, because if I do it won’t come out right. Instead, I look away as I let what she’s said sit there before Ipush straight past it. Because she’s wrong. She has to be. I do need to control it. I need to control all of it.

I failed all of them once before.

I’m not doing it again.

Even if it kills me.

CHAPTER 23

FAE

Two weeks pass and nothing happens.

The house stays on edge as tension settles into the walls like it’s part of the furniture. Atlas spends half his life behind a screen. Victor is in and out with updates that never seem to lead anywhere. Felix barely leaves Robyn’s side whilst Roman stalks through all of it like a man waiting for something to explode. It’s almost worse than if something had happened. At least then there would be a direction to put all this fear.

I stand in Roman’s bathroom staring at my reflection as I tie my hair back. My fingers feel unsteady as I try to smooth down the baby hairs framing my face. The bruises have faded now, leaving my skin mostly clear, but it’s my eyes that catch me off guard. They seem so… empty. The hoodie I’m wearing falls loosely over my frame. Roman has a habit of leaving them out for me. I think it’s his way of staying close when he can’t be here physically. I should probably find something else to wear. Something that doesn’t make me feel like a teenager pretending to be an adult. But the thought of today turns my stomach, and instead of changing, my hand drifts down to rest against it.

There’s a baby in there.

A baby whose father could be the man staring in my nightmares… or the man who wipes my tears.

We’re due at the hospital for a scan and the results of the blood work. Roman was adamant we didn’t need a DNA test. He keeps telling me the baby is his just because I’m his, as if that’s all there is to it and part of me wants it to be.

But it isn’t.

And I think, deep down, he knows that too.

The idea of stepping into a hospital makes my throat tighten. I grab the edge of the sink and force myself to breathe through the wave of nausea rising in my chest. It’s stupid. I know it is. This isn’t a warehouse. This isn’t captivity. No one is taking anything from me. No one is going to lock the door.