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Because she couldn"t go home. She didn"t think she could look her mother in

the eye and have a rational conversation about her miscarriage, but she needed to

know if she and her father really told Rome she terminated her pregnancy. She

picked up her phone and called her mother.

“Hi, Sela. Is everything all right?”

She sighed, already feeling better at the sound of her voice. Maybe it was all

some big misunderstanding. “That depends,” Sela replied. “I need to ask you

something, and I need you to tell me the truth.”

Her mother paused and swallowed thickly, with enough force that Sela heard

it over the line. She closed her eyes against the pain she could feel rising. She

hadn"t even asked the question, but she could feel the answer in her mom"s reaction.

“Did you and Daddy tell Rome I had an abortion?”

“So you guys figured that out.”

Her father was so lucky he passed on before she found out. Sela had every

intention of telling her mother exactly what she thought of her actions.

“I take it that"s a yes.”

“Sweetie, just come in out of the rain. We can talk about this when you come

home.”

Absently, Sela glanced at the sky. She hadn"t even realized that it was raining.

It was fitting. The weather matched her mood perfectly. “I don"t think I"m coming

home, Mom,” she said before hanging up the phone, cutting off whatever her mother

was going to say. Sela didn"t want to hear her words of comfort. There was nothing

she could say to make what she did sound reasonable. Sela didn"t want to go home.

Tomorrow she would talk to her. If she saw her now, she might do something she

would regret.

She sat in the car for several moments, breathing deeply, trying desperately

not to let the anger and pain get the best of her. It was a herculean feat. She needed

help. She picked up the phone and called the only person she knew who would

sympathize with her.

“Hello, Se? Is everything all right?”

She felt the first tear slid down her cheek at the sound of Nick"s concerned

voice. At least there was one person in her life who wasn"t lying to her or turning

her away.

She shook her head. “No, nothing"s right,” she sobbed into the phone.

“Where are you?” he asked, voice tight with tension. He was worried about her.

Even through her tears, she heard his concern. It was comforting. She gave him the

directions to the lot she had parked in and waited. Finally, she had somewhere to

go.

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Chapter Twelve

He was pushing himself to the point of no return. The thought sluiced through

his mind as he muttered a request for a taxi to take him to the nearest bar. The

man behind the hotel"s bar looked at him like he had lost his mind. Rome flashed

the man a cold smile and repeated his request. This time without the jovial feeling.

The man hastened to do as he had asked.

Rome knew what had tripped the guy up. Rome was in a bar asking to go to

another one. But Rome had his reasons for wanting to go somewhere else. The

hotel"s establishment was too nice to get rip-roaring drunk.

And that was exactly what he wanted to do.

He needed somewhere dark, seedy. The kind of place that hadn"t had a clean

floor in decades. He shouted the final requirements to the bartender before he

forgot. He had already been drinking. His mind wasn"t working as well as it

normally did.

But he had yet to reach his goal. Rome was not nearly drunk enough.

He wanted to forget what had almost been. The fact that his mother had

betrayed him. And the fact that Sela had believed he was capable of deserting her in

her time of need.

He needed to erase them all from his memory.

And alcohol was a great cleanser. Even if it was only momentary.

The bartender nodded in his direction before tilting his head to the side. Rome

followed his direction and found a dull yellow cab standing outside the bar"s

entrance. He unfolded himself from his seat and pulled out his wallet. He dropped

several bills on the wooden countertop, enough to cover his tab and thank the

bartender profusely for his aide.

Feet heavy, Rome managed to make his way out the bar and into the car.

“Long night?” the cabbie asked when he closed the door behind him. He

glanced up and found curious brown eyes watching him. Rome ignored the question.

He wasn"t in the mood for talking. It was part of the point of getting so intoxicated.

“Did the bartender give you the name or address of where we"re going?”

The driver gazed at Rome in the rearview mirror for a moment before

responding. “Yeah, he did. The Drunken Fish it is.”

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Almost groaned out loud at the name of the bar. He"d been looking for

something shitty, but the Drunken Fish sounded like it was more run-down than he

could handle.

Rome shook his head as reason surfaced. He feared he was already starting to

sober up. “There"s a large tip if you can get me there as soon as possible.”

The cabbie nodded once before focusing on the road and pulling the vehicle out

of its parking spot. The moment Rome felt the car take off, he closed his eyes and

leaned back in his seat.

Intent on keeping his mind free, he was irritated to find himself envisioning

Sela pregnant. Heavy with his child. Her eyes were lit with satisfaction. She was

pleased to be carrying his baby.

The most disturbing part of the vision was the fact that the Sela Rome saw

was fully grown.

He groaned. He was so fucked.

“You okay back there?” the driver called out in anxiousness.

“I"m fine,” Rome growled.

“You better not throw up, okay?”

Rome ignored the guy"s statement and stared at the quickly passing landscape.

He really shouldn"t have let Sela go home alone. But at the time it had been the best

out of two very bad options.

Thankfully, the driver arrived at the Drunken Fish then. Rome handed the

man a bill he knew covered the fare twice and walked out of the car on surprising

steady feet.

“Shit,” he said savagely. Apparently, he had sobered up sometime during the

short ride. Sometimes he really hated the fact that his body processed alcohol really

well. The moment he stopped drinking, the influence went away. He doubled his

pace as he made his way to the bar"s front door. Rome met a beefy bald guy with a

very realistic tiger tattoo across his head at the door. He nodded at the bouncer

before walking through the dark entrance.

Stale air greeted him as he strode deep into the dark bar. A quick glance

confirmed that the pub was exactly what he was looking for. Dark and decrepit, it

appeared to have been constructed when Brushwood was founded. It also appeared

that it hadn"t once been renovated in the two hundred plus years.

Rome took a seat at the bar. The bartender appeared before him. He pulled out

his wallet and slapped a few big bills onto the counter. “A bottle of whiskey and a

glass of ice.”

The bartender cocked one eyebrow at Rome before doing his bidding. He

quickly returned with the requested bottle and glass. Rome grabbed the tumbler

and poured himself three fingers of whiskey as the bartender grasped the offered

money.

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He wasn"t sure long had he had been drinking when she tapped his shoulder.

Rome only knew it had not been nearly long enough when he turned and spotted

Rosa standing to his right. “Fancy meeting you here,” he cheered before lifting the

small glass in his hand to his lips.

It never made it to port.

He slowly lifted his gaze to glare at source of the fingers holding his wrist. He

held Sela"s friend Nick"s gaze. “I suggest you let go.”

The other man"s jaw tightened, but he did not release his hold. White-hot

anger surged through Rome. As much as he wanted to deck the blond, he was sober

enough to know Sela would not appreciate it. And he cared what she thought.

Rome jerked his hand away and slammed the whiskey glass on the bar. “Can"t

a man drink in peace?” he yelled in exasperation before turning and striding away

from the couple.

He had only taken two steps when small hands landed on his bicep. “Rome,

please,” Rosa cried out.

He turned and stared at her. “You need to learn when to mind your business,

Rosa.”

She pursed her lips. In her eyes Rome could see that his words had hurt her

immensely. Unfortunately, the pain wasn"t great enough to force her to leave him

alone. “And you need to sober up.”

“I"m not drunk,” he yelled in frustration. He ran his fingers through his hair

and turned away. Everything was way too clear: the future that was stolen from

him, the past he could never fix, and the future he wasn"t sure he could bring about.

All of it was crystal clear. The liquor had done nothing to dull the pain.

If Rome didn"t know any better, he would swear his body was fighting the

alcohol.

“You can"t drink away your pain.”

“Especially not when people keep stopping me from drinking.”

“Rome, the whiskey is not going to make things different.”

He stilled at the tender note she had applied to the word “things.” Slowly, he

turned around to look at her. Gazing into Rosa"s eyes, Rome knew she was well

aware of the reason for his drinking bout. “I can"t believe she fucking told you!” he

said savagely.

Rosa placed both hands on his chest. “She didn"t tell me. She called Nick while

I was there. She"s there now. She wanted to be alone.”

“And so do I.” He turned and strode away from the joyous couple. He couldn"t

handle their happiness or concern. The sight of both was jarring, delving deep

beneath the anger he wanted to hold on to, to touch the pain that lay inside.

He made his way across the bar and to the back. He discovered a small dark

hallway and strode through it, following the signs for the men"s room. He found the

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restroom empty. Thankful he was finally alone, Rome stood in front of the one of the

sinks and breathed deeply.

Rome wasn"t sure how long he stood in front of the mirror, staring into his own

eyes. A minute or an hour—it could have been both he was so lost in his memories

and visions of what could have been. Men came and went. Several looked at him in

contemplation. One was kind enough to ask if he was all right. “Just tired,” Rome

admitted to the concerned stranger.

The sad truth was he was in fact exhausted. Nothing was as draining as

fighting against the tide, and the news he had been dealt that day made him

wonder if he and Sela had a chance in hell.
Am I just swimming against the tide?

With an angry jerk he returned to the present and opened the cold-water

faucet. He cupped his palms and ran the cool liquid over his heated face.

It was calming, refreshing, and just for a moment he believed he could make it

through the night. He simply had to avoid Rosa and Nick, make his way out of the

bar, and back to his hotel room. With that simple goal on his mind, Rome strode

from the restroom.

“Shit!” he exclaimed the moment he spotted her. He had only taken several

steps away from the dark hallway when he noticed a very familiar woman standing

beside the bar stool he had vacated. Initially, he believed his eyes were playing

tricks on him. He had after all been envisioning her the whole night.

And then she turned. He caught her gaze and knew the woman before him was

no hallucination.

He glanced in irritation at her two friends. He had known nothing good would

come from staying in the same bar they were in, but Rome had been too tired to give

a damn.

In the end it had cost him.

He strode across the room feeling very drunk and belligerent.
Or maybe that’s

just how I want her to see me
? “Go home, Sela,” he growled savagely and reached

around her to grab the remainder of his whiskey. Small fingers curled around his

wrist. Her touch was so light he could have easily shaken it off, but the presence

behind it stopped him cold.

“I think it"s time you went home, Rome.”

He ignored her and glared at the couple to his left. “Is that why you called her?

So she could take me back to my miserable hotel room? So you guys can have fun in

peace?”

“Rome,” Sela said sternly.

He whipped around to face her. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I care.”

If she had said anything, anything other than that in response, Rome might

have been able to push aside her statement. But those words he could not ignore.

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With three simple words she had taken the fight out of him and brought to the