Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(80)


“Get him the hell out of here and cleaned up… All y’all move… Now!” Jimmy-Don screamed over my shoulder, and swerving, I watched what was left of the team, dragging a now semi-conscious Porter from the gym.

“What the f*ck’s up with you?” Austin barked out, clearly trying to keep hold of his own temper.

“Y’all need to leave me the hell alone,” I said roughly.

“Rome, buddy—”

“I said leave!” I snapped at Jimmy-Don, who, disappointed, pulled on Austin’s shirt to get him out of the gym, leaving me to deal with all this crap by myself.

I was so out of my depth with all this shit. I was twenty-one and was through with all the pressure. Through with having to fight every damn day to just to have a normal life, for me and my girl to just be together, away from anyone’s business, and have our child in friggin’ peace.

Temporarily losing my damn mind, I began tearing apart the gym as every f*cked-up scenario of what my folks could be up to played through my mind. Throwing mats, overturning equipment, I panted harder and harder until I was completely breathless. My shirt was soaked with sweat and blood, so I ripped it off, throwing it across the room, and slumped down to the bench, fighting back the tears.

I’d never felt so damn helpless in my life.

After several minutes of just staring at the ceiling, I heard the gym door creak open, and I stilled. When I dropped my head, I saw Molly stepping through, mouth gaping open at the state of the gym and then turning her attention on me, her face paling and her eyes huge.

She walked forward and I hissed, “Guess who’s hosting the f*cking SEC Division Championship dinner two days after we get back from the game in Georgia?”

“Oh no, baby—” she whispered and her hands immediately went to protect her stomach. I don’t think she even realized what she’d done, but that action alone had me dying inside—she feared what my folks were going to do to our child.

“It’s a f*ckin’ joke! They’ve never given a shit about football my whole life and now they suddenly volunteer to host the biggest dinner of the year… at the plantation? It’s a f*ckin’ trap to get us there, Mol!”

She tried to comfort me, to get closer, but I couldn’t let her. I was so damn livid. Couldn’t have her trying to soothe me.

“Romeo, you need to calm down! Half the college is out front. You’ve beat a teammate to a pulp—”

At the mention of that f*cker, my skin pricked. “He f*ckin’ deserved it. He started spouting shit about you… to me! He had a f*ckin’ death wish the minute he opened his stupid mouth!”

“I don’t care what the hell he said about me. Look at the state of you! You’re acting insane!”

Was she kidding? Didn’t she realize why things were so bad, why I was so riled up? “My parents have staged this whole thing. Remember last time, the way they attacked us? This is just a more elaborate trap. They knew I’d never go back voluntarily. Coach has agreed to it. They’ve already invited the governor, mayor, and a million other boosters who’ve all eagerly accepted. They made sure the college couldn’t refuse! Fuck!”

Molly moved to the bench out of the way of my warpath, and facing her, I stated, “We’re not going. There’s no f*ckin’ way you’re going to them in your condition.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off my girl as a hand rubbed across her tired head. She went on and tried to convince me to go, even going so far as to offer to stay at home. But there wasn’t a chance. Didn’t she know how much I needed her?

Moving before her, I said, “No! No f*ckin’ way! Why shouldn’t you be there with me? The college needs to change the venue. Fuck my parents. I know them, Mol. Something is going on, I just know it, and I won’t have them destroying my family—I’m over their mind games.”

Loving sympathy flooded her features and I breathed deep, using Mol’s presence to calm me—she always calmed me—and I could tell I was upsetting her being so charged up. I walked slowly to where she sat and, dropping to my knees, laid my head on her lap, pressing kisses to her stomach. “If they find out about our little angel in there, f*ck knows what they’ll do. I can’t lose you both.”

Soft hands ran through my hair and I used the touch to lose the rest of my rage.

“Romeo, I understand why you’re like this, but it’s one party, with hundreds of people around. They won’t do anything so publicly. They wouldn’t want the embarrassment. I’ll stay by your side the whole night. They won’t have a chance to get to me. You’ll protect me. I know you will.”

I would, with my life if needs be.

Molly set to cleaning me up, caring for me like she always did. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if they hurt you or our little angel, baby,” I said.

She took my face in her hands and insisted, “Nothing will happen.”

I felt like I was six again, trapped under my parents’ hold. For the last few months I’d been happy, and in one fell swoop, they managed to drop me back to being the abused kid they’d ripped on for years.

I could feel the tears, but I couldn’t stop. “Why do they always have to interfere? We’re doing so good. You’re healthy, our baby’s going strong, and the Tide’s the clear winner of the SEC Western Division and heading to the National Championship. Then they come in with their plotting and scheming, ruining my life again. I’m telling you, it’s all rigged. They’re planning something. Something big.”

Tillie Cole's Books