Drugged
The pounding in Rome’s head made him think he must’ve been assaulted by a brute with a sledgehammer. He opened his eyes as far as he dared, just a slit, and immediately wished he hadn’t. There wasn’t much light in the room, wherever he was, but even the soft glow from the open window and the clock next to the bed was enough to make him nauseated.
“Are you awake?”
He recognized his mother’s voice and the light touch of her hand on the back of his head as he struggled to swallow back the bile that filled his mouth. All he could do was groan. Never in his life had he ever felt like this before, not even when he’d fallen over the second story balcony at Bart’s house when they were kids messing around. If it hadn’t been for Ella’s face in his mind’s eye, Rome would’ve wanted to die.
His mother smoothed his hair again. “I’m so sorry, Rome. I told your father he used too much, but he wanted to make sure you slept all the way here. He’s so angry, Rome. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this mad before. He’s threatening to go after the Sinders in every way imaginable. He says when he’s finished, Lloyd Sinders will wish he’d never been born.”
Rome couldn’t care less about Lloyd Sinders, or his own father for that matter. He just wanted to live long enough to see Ella again.
His throat was so dry. He desperately wished he could sit up and get a drink of water, but he couldn’t move yet, and his head was still pounding. How much of that sedative had his father given him? Enough to knock out a rhinoceros? He found it ironic that Bart had been talking about sedatives at the funeral, and then his dad had knocked him on his ass with one, though he doubted it was the same one Bart had mentioned. It wouldn’t do his dad any good to make it seem like Rome was dead after all. He felt like he had been dead for a few years, that was for sure.
His mother finally seemed to take note of his pained state. “Here, son, let me help you sit up. You need some water. And some pain medication.”
Her cold hands helped pull him up to sitting, but Rome didn’t want to move and was fairly sure he was about to vomit all over her. He rested his head back against the headboard as she handed him two small pills and a glass of water. Somehow, he managed to get the medicine down, hoping it was something strong enough to stop the pain but not put him right back where he’d just come from.
He emptied the glass but realized he also needed to empty his bladder. There was no way he was going to walk it to the bathroom alone, and wasn’t going to ask his mom for help. If she left, he’d just pee in the glass and worry about that later, but she was still going on about how awful it was that he’d developed feelings for his father’s enemy and that he needed to see things from Monty’s perspective.
Rome wasn’t listening to her. He’d managed to get his eyes open wide enough now to realize he was in his room in their house in Verona. The Italianate cottage wasn’t nearly as large as their house in LA, but it was out in the countryside, surrounded by spectacular views. It was too bad he’d been drugged and kidnapped to reach this destination. His room was on the second floor, and he could picture the beautiful view of the sun coming up in the morning. It would’ve been lovely to wake up next to Ella here. Instead, she was likely still on the other side of the ocean.
Or she was in France and married to Henry Caron of Paris?
“Mom, can you give me some time alone, please?” Rome finally said, interrupting her mid-sentence. “I’m sorry. I just need some time to… think.” He didn’t want to offend her because she was likely the closest thing to an ally he had on this side of the brick wall surrounding the grounds. But he didn’t want to continue to listen to her attempt to justify his father’s actions anymore.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” It was clear her feelings were hurt. “Yes, of course. It is past midnight after all. I suppose I should go to sleep. Your father was upset that I even came in to check on you.”
“I appreciate that you did, Mom. I really do.” Rome hoped he sounded sincere. He knew how she got when her feelings were hurt.
Lacy Verona patted her son lovingly on the cheek and then headed out the door. The sound of the lock turning made his eyes widen. Why would she do that? But then he heard his mother say to someone else, “Is that really necessary?”
“Mr. Verona’s orders, ma’am.”
The voice was one he hadn’t heard before, but Rome didn’t like it. He sounded like a member of the mafia. He imagined a man with greasy black hair and a scar on his face.
Rome didn’t have time to think about that either. He had to take a piss. Then, he had to figure out how to get out of here. Because he had to find his wife and make sure she was safe. If anything were ever to happen to Ella, Rome would die.
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