“The reports said she hit ice, lost control of her car and went off the side of the mountain, and we believed it. It didn’t quite add up, not when she was so used to driving those roads, but it made sense. Those roads are dangerous in the winter, we all know it, so hitting ice isn’t impossible.”
I pick at a bit of rough skin at the edge of my nail, my throat growing tight as I listen. “After her will was read and my father realized she hadn’t left him anything, not a single piece of land, he lost his mind. Admitted it to my grandfather and threatened to do the same to him should he not hand it over. After I got involved, he left, but he promised to be back. A few things over the years have reminded us he’s still there, waiting for the right moment, but we’ve never given him it. Until you.”
My stomach twists with dread, fear close behind.
“Why does he want the ranch so much?”
Roman’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “Money. Power. He was the one who came at me the day I fell off Pippin.”
“Roman! You have to report him.”
He chuckles, but the sound is void of amusement, it’s more defeated than anything else, and I hate it. Hate the sound of it, the icy chill of it.
“We have but he never leaves enough evidence to prove it was him. He has always been a smart man. If I can give him anything, it would be that. He manipulates to get his way. He married the widow at the ranch opposite us, got her on side, and now he owns that land.
“We believe he destroyed your truck, Niamh. I’m so fucking sorry.”
He finally turns to me, meeting my eyes. The color of his eyes swirl, a molten gold that is riddled with guilt and grief. This isn’t on him; this is not his burden to bear.
“Come here,” I demand.
“I got a package today.” He ignores me, and I watch as his face crumbles even more.
“A get well soon card with a message inside from him, a threat in not so many words, but I know that man. There was a box with brake lines inside. I knew they were for the truck; he came after you to get to me, Niamh.”
“Roman,” I hold his stare, “Come here.”
His chin shakes in a barely there refusal.
“If I get out of this bed, I’m going to get dizzy and then I’ll fall over and then you’ll really have something to feel guilty for.”
“Iamguilty,” He grinds out.
“Fine,” I snap back and throw the sheets off my legs, curling my lip a little at the white and blue hospital gown, and start to move.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” He darts forward, lunging for me.
I grin at him, knowing I just got what I wanted since he’s by my side and pulling the sheets back over me. I grab his wrist before he can pull away.
“Do not.” I warn him.
“Don’t what?”
“Pull away from me,” I hold his eyes, “Not when I just ignored everything in my head telling me to keep you away. Not because I think you’re dangerous, or guilty, orbad,but because you make it too easy to forget. You make me fucking feel again, and that scared me. And if you pull away from me now, all those thoughts would have been right.”
“How can you bear to be near me? To even look at me?” He sighs.
“Did you do it?” I ask.
“Fuck no,” He snaps.
“Then why would I blame you?”
“Because I knew this mighthappen.”
“I don’t blame you Roman, I ampissedfor you. But I don’t blame you. I am sad for you, angry and disgustedforyou.”
“It will keep happening until he wins.”
