A wheel on the shopping cart squeaks as I roll down the cereal aisle.From beneath my lashes, I sneak a glance at Roman as he walks next to me. Memories of the last time we were in the grocery store together flit through my head. That was almost three weeks ago, and our relationship couldn't be more different. I pluck a box of Honey Nut Cheerios from a shelf and hold it up. "We ran out this morning." I give it a little shake after a few beats of silence. "You like these, right?" Getting an answer out of him is like pulling teeth sometimes.His lips lift into an expression that could almost pass for a smile. "Yes, I like them."I drop the box into the cart and roll my eyes. "Was that so difficult?""Extremely."I grab a small box of Grapenuts from the top shelf.A month ago, I ate bowls of the crunchy cereal for dinner. I haven't done that since Roman began staying at the house. As I'm about to toss it in with the other groceries, I hesitate. Holding this box makes me realiz
I raise my brows at Roman, who studiously avoids my gaze.MaryAnn, who must be his sister or sister-in-law, turns and faces me again. "Oh, I'm sorry!" She gives Roman an expectant look. When he says nothing, she huffs out a breath and smiles, thrusting her hand toward me. "Apparently Roman isn't going to bother introducing us. I'm MaryAnn, his sister-in-law, and the two hellions that ran past are my boys. The taller one is Jacob, and the other is Logan.""Sofia." I take hold of her hand. "It's nice to meet you."Dozens of questions swirl through my head. I glance at Roman and find his eyes already on me. A strange guardedness I've seen countless times before lurks in them.The boys run back down the aisle and hurtle their small bodies at their uncle.Roman scoops them up into his arms with practiced ease, shaking them until they shriek with uncontrollable laughter. His discomfort dissolves, and his guard drops as he focuses on his nephews with a joyful smile that makes my he
I scan Roman's one-bedroom apartment, trying to absorb every minute detail.He lives in the city near the Loop, about two blocks from the El. We've been here for forty minutes, and I've already heard two trains rumble past. Roman lurks in front of the door. I get the feeling he wants to give me a quick tour and escort me out. Well, that's not going to happen. It took three weeks to get him to this point, and I'm not about to be rushed now that I'm here."I told you there wasn't much to see," he says.I throw a smile over my shoulder and meander around, looking for anything that will give me insight into who this man is. "It's nice."He snorts but doesn't argue.The living room has a small brown leather couch and matching chair crammed into it with an end table wedged between them. A large flat-screen television is attached to the wall across from the seating arrangement. Other than that, the space is bare. No posters or art hang on the stark white walls, and there aren't any
Instead of moving toward the bedroom, I gravitate to the unadorned window overlooking the street. I watch traffic zip and whizz past for a few minutes. It may be one in the morning, but the streets teem with energy and movement.I turn away and glance around the apartment with more scrutiny. Moonlight filters in, illuminating the living room and adjoining kitchen. I can't put my finger on it, but the blankness of this place bothers me.Every surface is sparkling and fingerprint-free. The typical pile of mail most people have laying around is nowhere to be found. No personal items, such as a pair of shoes or a single photograph are strewn about.The niggle of unease in my belly quadruples in size and grows into a painful gnaw as I look for something, anything that proves Roman really lives here.I've been in hotel rooms with more personality.That thought reverberates through me as my eyes land on the desk in the corner. Without thinking, I move in its direction.Because I need a
"Sofia?" Roman's gaze drops from mine to the photo in my hand.I moisten my lips, at a loss for what to say."What are you doing?""I found a picture of you."He closes the distance between us in five long strides. Plucking it from my shaking fingers, he gives the photograph a cursory glance. My heart pounds under my breast, the sound echoing in my ears."Where?" he asks in something that resembles a growl. I cringe and consider lying but decide there isn't a point because he'll figure out the truth in a matter of moments if he hasn't already. "In your desk, stuck to the bottom of a drawer."He doesn't ask why I was rummaging through his belongings at one in the morning. We're way past that now.Through stiff lips, I force out a question of my own. "You were a cop?"Squaring his shoulders, Roman runs a hand through his hair. "Still am."My mind flips, trying to make sense out of what he just confirmed. "But you work for my father," I say stupidly.His gaze turns steely. "Yes.
I keep my eyes averted and use my only bargaining chip. "If I listen, will you release me?""After you hear me out, then yes, I'll let you go." He sighs. "If that's what you still want."I turn my head to look at him with the most vicious glare I can summon. "It will be," I say calmly. After a moment of silence, I snap, "Can we get on with it? I want to get this over with."Disappointment seeps into his eyes.Good.Roman needs to understand that there's nothing he can say to thaw my frigid heart. "From the time I was a kid, there was nothing I wanted to be other than a cop. Both my father and uncle were on the Chicago police force for about thirty-five years, just like their old man was before them. It was like the family occupation. After I finished college, I applied to CPD and was accepted. I never bothered to put in an application with any other department because I wanted to work in Chicago. Once I completed my training at the academy, I worked the streets for two yea
A naked vulnerability I've never seen flashes across his face. It tears me up inside. I'm struck with the urge to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. To comfort him. To tell him that everything will be all right. But I don't. As much as I long to, I can't. This man has endangered the people I care about most, and that is one transgression I can't forgive.Fortifying everything inside me, I say, "You need to let me go."His body stays stretched out over mine, and I fleetingly wonder if he'll allow me to leave or hold me captive indefinitely. But then, one by one, he removes his fingers from my wrists.Uncomfortable with the intimacy of our position, I whisper, "Please, Roman, you have to let me go. I've listened to everything you had to say." I shake my head. "I'm sorry, but it doesn't make a difference. You betrayed us. What you've done is unforgivable."His lips hover over mine. He looks ready to kiss me, but instead jerks away and rolls off the bed in one fluid
Groaning, I roll toward the alarm clock and slap it.My eyelids feel like they've been cemented shut. Prying them open takes a Herculean effort. Unable to force my limbs into action, I lay in bed as memories of yesterday assault me.Roman is an undercover police officer.Never in a million years could I have foreseen this. If anything, I'd wondered if he worked for the Russians.But the police?The Chicago PD?No. I feel completely blindsided by the revelation. What am I going to do? Acknowledging what a mess this situation is makes me burrow deeper under the covers, wishing I could stay in bed for the rest of the day. Maybe the next few. I had a difficult time falling asleep after getting home because my mind wouldn't click off. As a result, I feel tired and irritable.I would love to call in sick, but can't.Two parent meetings and an IEP are on my agenda for today. These parents have rearranged their schedules to come in and discuss their children's educational needs, whic