Rome (Marked Men, #3)(22)

“You really do have the prettiest eyes.”

I cleared my throat and tried not to blush since I had never really been the blushing type.

“So you’ve mentioned.”

His words were still hard to understand, but the way the blue in his eyes was glowing wasn’t. I was hardheaded to a fault, but I wasn’t going to deny I thought he was hot, I mean I was only human and there was something about all that plain, old-fashioned beefcake that was hard to ignore. But I was surprised that he seemed to return the sentiment. I didn’t for one second think I was any more his type than he was mine.

We stumbled, half stepped, and shuffled to the truck. It took some maneuvering and some wiggling on my part to get him to let me go and get him to climb up into the monstrous vehicle. I closed the door on him as he was humming an awful rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” and closed my eyes for a second. I had plenty of experience dealing with moody, drunken boys—Rule was a pro at being a handful after too many cocktails—but there was something about the abject sadness, the visible sorrow hanging around in those azure eyes that made Rome just a little trickier to handle. I had an inkling that he could go from malleable and sloppy to really difficult in a heartbeat.

The truck was big and I had to slide the seat up as close to the steering wheel as it would go. I was lucky it was a newer model, because there was no way I would have been able to reach the pedals if had been one of the old-style bench seats. It was also an automatic, which was nice since I hadn’t had to drive a stick in forever.

I glanced over at my passenger and found him slumped over so that his head was resting on the window. His eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm. I was going to take him to the Victorian and have Nash help me wrestle him inside, when his voice cracked out from someplace so deep and dark it gave me goose bumps when it whispered across my skin.

“Do you ever wonder ‘why you’?”

I frowned at him and shot Nash a text to see if he was home.

“Why me what?” I didn’t understand what he was rambling about and his eyes were still closed, so I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t talking in his sleep.

“Why am I the one still here? Why was I the only one to walk away? Why did I dodge one bullet only to end up useless and unnecessary anymore? Whose plan was that? Why was I someone Remy couldn’t tell? Why didn’t he trust me? Why? Shouldn’t there be a point to it all?”

It was incoherent for the most part but the sentiment behind it was heartbreaking and shouldn’t be coming from someone so vital and thrumming with life. I didn’t really have a working understanding of how survivor’s guilt affected a man that had seen so much, but in Rome’s case it seemed to be eating him alive.

“That is probably a conversation you should have with a professional and maybe not when you tried to drink your liver into submission.”

“People die every day that shouldn’t die. It isn’t fair and it isn’t right. There should be some kind of rhyme or reason to it.” But there wasn’t, and when he was sober he had to know that, didn’t he?

My phone dinged at me and I had to wait until I stopped at a stop sign to check the message. I swore softly because Nash wasn’t home and had no plans on returning. I didn’t want to bug Rule, not to mention he wasn’t the most sensitive of guys and there was no way Rome was in any state to be left to his own devices. I was just gonna have to take him to my house and put him on the couch until he sobered up. Jet was on the road and Ayden was working late, so that meant I was only going to have to deal with a million questions and speculative looks from Asa.

“A lot of bad things happen every day that shouldn’t happen. Unfortunately it’s part of life.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

I looked back over at him and noticed those bright eyes were wide open and focused on my face. It was unnerving to be the target of such intense scrutiny.

“Maybe not. Hey, I’m just gonna take you to my place for a minute. I’ll let you catch a quick nap and put some food in you and you can run me back to my car when you’re back at full operating power. Okay?”

His eyes slid back shut and his broad shoulders rose and fell like he couldn’t care less. I hated to admit that I was worried about him, but whatever blanket of despair he had wrapped himself up in, it was thick and it was fibrous and I could almost feel the weight of it suffocating him.

We made it to Washington Park, where the cute little house I shared with the gang was located. I thought Rome might have finally settled in to sleep for real, but as soon as the motor of the big ol’ truck shut off, his eyes popped open and he was once again staring at me fixedly in the dim interior of the cab.

“Why did you come get me?”

I fiddled with the key and pushed open the door. “Because I love your brother and he loves you and I want to keep it that way. I’m much better at dealing with something like this than he is.”

“Something like what?”

He managed to get his own door open, but I heard him mutter a string of swearwords and a loud thud as he lost his balance and fell against the fender of the truck. I sighed and walked around to collect him.

“Something like a guy who is clearly hurting and lashing out at those that are closest to him because he knows they’ll take it. We can go as many rounds as you want, Captain No-Fun, you don’t scare me.”