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BOOK: lori king rough ride romeo
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off him, but Roman’s brain was still too foggy from sleep to notice.

“I overslept, but I’m headed out now. Is Abe out there already?”

Rolling his eyes, Vin tossed the enormous tire to the side and wiped his hands on a

bandana he kept in his back pocket. “Only for the last six hours. Damn it Romeo, when are you

going to grow up?”

“I’m allowed to go out on occasion.”

“Sure, but most of us do it when we don’t have to be up early in the morning. Abe asked

you to help him because the rest of us couldn’t. If I’d known he was out there by himself—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a shitty person. Whatever. I’m going now.”

Roman slammed the truck door in Vin’s face and peeled out of the driveway. He wasn’t

really hungover from alcohol so much as the late night. He’d spent the night with two girls from

Montana who were passing through town on their way east for college. His body ached in a

well-used way that made him fidget in his seat to find a comfortable position. He’d known last

night he was making a mistake by going back to their motel room with them, but opportunities

like that didn’t come up all the time, so he’d made a split second decision to roll with it. Abe

would be irritated this morning but he’d get over it. He always did.

Cattle roamed the pasture peacefully, and the temperature was already rising even though it

was just barely noon. Summer in North Dakota was a beautiful combination of blue skies and

wildfowers, and Roman never took it for granted. There’d been a painful period in his life where

he thought he might not survive to see the fowers in adulthood. Thanks to Abe and Sera Crawley

he’d survived his father, and a whole lot more. It probably wasn’t easy raising headstrong

teenagers who were hell-bent on creating chaos, but they’d taken each challenge in stride, teaching

with steady discipline and genuine love. Roman couldn’t have asked for a better set of foster

parents.

When he’d arrived at Crawley Creek bandaged and broken, Sera had nursed him back to

health and promised to let him stay. She’d kept her promise, fighting the court to label his father

unfit with photos of the second degree burns on his skin, and the bruises covering broken ribs.

The burns had healed more quickly than the scars in his mind.

As he approached the bend in their property where the creek and Fieldman Woods met their

pastures, he spotted Abe’s beat up copper colored pick-up truck. He sure hadn’t made it very far if

he’d been out here since sunrise.

The sun hit the tailgate of the truck, momentarily blinding him, but as he blinked the dots

from his vision his stomach dropped. There was no sign of Abe. The fence was still down, and

the tools were still in the bed of the truck. Dread hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. Abe

Crawley was a hardworking man who’d built his ranch from the ground up, pushing for more

when there was barely anything left to give. There was no way he’d just slacked off. Abe didn’t

know the meaning of slacking off.

Slamming his own truck into park, Roman jumped from his seat, anxiety washing away

the drowsy fog from before. His eyes landed on the light blue color of Abe’s favorite denim jacket,

and he surged across the grass landing on his knees at his foster father’s side.

The moments between finding Abe slumped sideways and unconscious and the ambulance

arriving in that empty cow pasture were hazy to Roman. He’d been unable to tell his siblings

what had happened to the man who’d raised them because he hadn’t been where he was supposed

to be. He’d been living it up like a man with nothing to lose. Now he had to face the reality that

he stood to lose everything.

A few weeks after the funeral they received the autopsy report. A massive cardiac event.

Ninety percent blockage. Could have been ongoing for years. The cover letter ended with the usual,

‘so sorry for your loss.’

“I don’t know. He’s been like that for a few minutes. It’s like his brain just

stopped working.”

“That happened years ago.”

“Well he was talking to me and playing the game, and then suddenly I was

winning and he was staring off into space. So clearly something’s wrong.”

“Did you try fashing him? Boobs always get Romeo’s attention.”

“Shut up Hawke.”

“No I did not fash him my boobs. Good grief.”

“Why don’t you guys give me a minute with him.”

“Uh oh, big brother’s gonna lay the smack down. Take it easy on him D, he’s

emotionally unstable ya know.”

Roman heard the conversation around him, but he couldn’t, or maybe he

just didn’t want to respond. He had no interest in playful banter with his brothers.

They’d never understand what he was feeling. It wasn’t their fault that Abe had

died in that pasture alone. Just like they’d never understand the depth of Franki’s

guilt over not reaching her sister in time. He alone could relate to her inner

struggle, and he alone needed to help her through it. Never mind the fact that

he’d never figured out a way through his own grief over Abe’s death. Hel , just

thinking about it made him want to get violently ill.

“Roman? What’s going on man? You can’t scare my girl like that.” Drannon

sat on the coffee table in front of him, so he couldn’t avoid his pointed gaze.

After a moment Roman sighed and whispered, “Sorry. I didn’t meant to

freak her out.”

“Got caught up in your own head I s’pose?” Drannon asked, nodding in

understanding. “I wondered if Vivi dying would bring back some stuff for

anyone. Wasn’t too long ago we were dealing with this ourselves.”

“Yeah…” Roman glanced away, afraid he might see disappointment in his

brother’s eyes. If this was bringing up memories for him, why wouldn’t it bring

them up for everyone else too?

“Roman, I have to tell you something. About that morning that Abe died…”

Drannon paused and took a deep breath as Roman looked back at him. Instead

of sadness, he saw guilt in the other man’s eyes, but that didn’t make sense. Why

would Drannon feel guilty?

“Abe asked me to wake you up on his way out of the yard. He was upset that

you were still asleep, and in a hurry, so he asked me to do it. I was too pissed at

you. I figured you deserved to get your butt chewed from him for being out all

night, so I went on to work and never followed through.” Drannon’s face was a

pale gray color, “It’s my fault you weren’t out there.”

“Drannon, you didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t. Any more than you did, but if you can keep holding on to the

guilt that you weren’t there, then you deserve to at least know I share some of the

blame.” Drannon said firmly.

Roman sat quietly for a few moments absorbing the new information. If

Drannon had woken him that morning he might have arrived in time to get Abe

help, but then again, maybe not. “I guess we’re both going to have to get over

ourselves. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

To his surprise Drannon smiled at him sadly, “That right there is the damn

truth. I’ve swallowed my guilt just like you have, and now it’s time to let it out and

let it go. Just like your girl is going to have to.”

“I’m trying to be supportive, but I don’t know how to help her,” Roman said,

dropping the game controller he held and running his fingers through his hair. “I

can’t fix it.”

“Nope. But you can be there when she’s ready to talk. I’ve been watching

you and you’re doing great.”

Roman met Drannon’s eyes doubtfully, but his older brother looked pretty

sure of his words. “Then why’s she still running away?”

“Why’ve you been running away for the last year?” Drannon asked. When

Roman didn’t answer he continued, “We all grieve differently. I dove into work

and pushed to make the ranch as profitable as I could. I took on projects we

weren’t ready for, and in the end, it took us longer to get to this point than it

should have. You turned to alcohol and women, but you know what? Neither of

us had it right.”

“I drank before Dad died.” Roman argued.

“Not like this. We all have the occasional beer, but Roman, you and I both

know you’ve been out of control. I don’t know if it’s grief or guilt, but you have

to let it go. Abe wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

“He would have liked Franki,” Roman murmured.

“Yep. Just like he’d have loved Lacy. You’ve found a good woman at the

wrong time. Just like I did. If Lacy had taken that job in Chicago I would have

been left with a broken heart, but I’d have found a way to go to her. I love her. I

think I have from the moment I spotted her.”

A retching sound came from just outside the door, and then Hawke’s face

appeared. “Seriously, you two are ridiculous. I’m never going to act like this over

a woman.”

Drannon laughed, and Roman rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I need to go find

her.”

“Don’t force her, Roman.”

Anger rushed through him, and he glared at Drannon. “Do you even know

me?”

Drannon’s hands came up defensively, “That’s not what I meant. I just

meant don’t force her through this process. Think about how long it’s taken us to

heal. She has to accept Vivi’s death on her own terms, and make decisions for her

life without pressure. I’m more than wil ing to accept her into the family as a

permanent member, but don’t guilt her into it. I think she’d consumed with

enough guilt for all of us at the moment.”

“Why is everyone so sure I’m going to push her into something? I’m not a

complete jackass.” Roman snapped, jumping to his feet.

“Just mostly,” Hawke joked and jumped back when Roman rounded on him

with a punch. “Hey!”

“Stop it. We’re all just concerned. You’ve fipped a switch, Romeo. Like

night to day, you went from sleeping off hangovers in your truck and showing up

home half naked after an orgy with some stranger, to dedicating your entire life

to a woman who just lost her sister. It’s a scary time for both of you, and if you

revert back to old behaviors—”

“I won’t.”

Drannon nodded, “I know you think that, but—”

“I’m not the same person anymore. I don’t want to be that person. I’ve

hated myself for the last year because I let Abe die. Damn it, if I’d been there—”

“We’ve talked about this. You couldn’t have saved him.” Drannon said

firmly.

“We’ll never know that for sure.”

“And you’ll never forgive yourself. Tel me, if you can’t forgive yourself for

not reaching Abe in time, how are you going to convince Franki to forgive herself

for not saving Vivi?”

Drannon’s words played through Roman’s mind as he stormed out of the

house. Anger and frustration rolling through him. His older brother was right, but

he hated that he was right. There was nothing he could have done to save Abe.

Even if he’d been there at dawn to help fix the fence, Abe would have still had a

heart attack, and most likely died before help could get there. Just like Vivi’s fate

was set from the moment she met Goat. Sure, she could have made better

choices, but that didn’t mean it would have changed the ultimate outcome.

With a sigh of relief, Roman stopped in his forward moment and let that

reality wash over him. He couldn’t have saved Abe. Franki couldn’t have saved

Vivi. Their guilt wouldn’t change what had happened, but it could change their

paths to the future. If they could lean on each other, maybe they could set each

other free. Finally, with a renewed sense of determination, Roman did what he’d

been wanting to and went searching for Franki. He needed to assure her that he

was there for her. No matter what she wanted, or what she decided to do in the

future. He’d be there.

Chapter 16

Franki hadn’t made it far, in fact she’d gone back to a place of joy. She sat on

the massive bed where she and Roman had made love just days ago, and wept.

She let her guilt spill out of her eyes in painfully hot tears of grief. Her heart

thudded against her ribs with an intensity she’d never known before, and she

cried. For her sister, for her mother, for the woman in the hospital who had

connected to Vivi in a way that Franki never would, and most importantly for

herself. She couldn’t do a thing to fix what had happened, and it tore at her soul

to know that Vivi’s last moments had been painful.

She wanted to reach out and hold her sister one last time just so that she

could fulfill her promise that she would save her. An intense rage fil ed her up at

the memories that had been stolen and the pain caused by greedy people who

didn’t care who they mistreated. If it was the last thing she did, she’d track down

the man who called himself Goat and make sure he paid for what he’d done. If

not for him preying on Vivi, they’d both still be in St. Paul, happily living their

lives with no comprehension of this type of pain.

And yet, in her heart, she knew that she hadn’t been happy back in

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