Roman - Lane Hart Page 0,29

voice, he says, “What if they do come back to try and silence them?”

“I didn’t know all of that, or I would’ve had more men watch the doors,” I admit. “Grab a chair and let’s get down the hall. I think all the women are on the same floor. We’ll keep watch there.”

“Good,” Verek says.

We both pick up one of the waiting room chairs and head toward Tessa’s room where we place them directly across from each other in the hallway.

“Guess we can take turns sleeping.”

“No need,” Verek says as he takes his seat and I lower myself into my own. “I’m wide the fuck awake.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think we should call some of the guys back to watch the parking lot?” he asks, glancing up and down the hall.

“Nah, I think we can handle it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“They would have to be idiots to show their faces here.”

“Or ruthless,” Verek mutters. “That’s why I’m not sleeping a wink tonight.”

“Me either, man. Me either.”

Chapter Ten

Charlotte

The next morning, the doctor comes in bright and early for an exam closely followed by a woman, who identifies herself as a psychologist. Since they asked me to step outside, I go out into the hall, intending to find some coffee to get awake after only nodding off on the cot for a few minutes at a time.

I had no idea I would find Roman and Verek sitting in chairs in the hallway. Roman told me that he would sit outside her room, and he literally did.

“Hey,” I say to them.

“Hey,” Roman replies, his eyelids heavy and voice gruffer than normal.

One minute I’m standing, and the next he’s pulling me down onto his lap and burying his face in my hair while his arms lock tightly around my waist. “Did you sleep any?”

“Not much. You?” I ask, enjoying his strong arms and warmth more than I should.

“Nah, but that’s okay,” he says. “Saw the doc and shrink go in.”

“Yeah, we’ll see what they say after talking to Tessa this morning.”

“Verek, you mind going to get us some coffee?” Roman asks the other man, who is slumped in the chair across from us, arms crossed over his chest.

“On it,” he agrees when he gets to his feet and stretches his arms over his head, so tall he can nearly touch the ceiling. The stretching shifts his cut around, revealing the gun holster underneath his arm. After he walks away, I reach underneath Roman’s left arm and find a similar holster holding a hard object that can only be a firearm.

“You’re wearing a gun?” I whisper to him.

“Always,” he says. “I have a concealed carry permit, although no one is supposed to have them in hospitals.”

“How did I not know that?” I ask.

“Is that a problem?” he asks, brushing my hair back behind my shoulder.

“No,” I tell him. “I mean, after what happened, I may consider getting one myself.”

“Only if you know how to use one.”

“Maybe you could teach me,” I suggest.

“Yeah, I could…” he trails off as we both think the same thing. Today, Tessa and I may be going home to Raleigh, and I don’t know if I’ll see Roman again.

Before either of us can discuss it further, the hospital door opens, and the doctors come out.

“So?” I jump up off Roman’s lap to ask them.

“Physically, I would feel confident in releasing her to go home,” he starts. “But mentally…”

“We think Tessa would do better to transition into a therapeutic center,” the psychiatrist explains. “Some place with tough security, group and one-on-one therapy sessions. Thirty days would be the least amount of time I would recommend, with six months being the longest.”

“You want to commit her?” I whisper.

“No, it’s not an involuntary commitment or anything like that. It’s completely voluntary, and it’s more of a rehabilitation to help Tessa feel safe to return to her normal life. Right now she doesn’t, and she’s verbalizing some severely paranoid thoughts that may be exacerbated if she tries to return to her normal life too quickly.”

“And she wants to go to this place?”

“Yes, she seemed very interested, as did the other women. The only problem is that it costs around twenty thousand a month, and she had concerns about her health insurance that she wanted us to check into.”

“I’ll pay it,” Roman speaks up and says.

“What? No, you don’t have to do that,” I tell him.

“I want to. For all of the women,” he declares. To the doctors, he says, “If this is what they want to do and