Betraying Reeves

At dinner that night I sat staring moodily out of the window at the big black clouds that accompanied the heavy rain.
"Nuru," Jennie whispered softly, frowning deep. "Is anything the matter?"
I felt a lump in my throat and stole a quick glance at Bill, his deep brown eyes were warning.
I gulped and shook my head at Jennie. Dinner dragged on as Bill made small talk with Jennie about the weather and tried to engage me into the conversation as though the events of that evening had never occurred.
Rather than join in I chose to torment myself with thoughts of Roman, his scent, his eyes, his voice, God! His smile. He was just too much. I almost wept with relief when I was allowed to go to my room. I didn't sleep well that night.

xxxx

My eyes popped wide open in the morning, even before the usual muffled light of a cloudy day peeked around the edges of my black bedroom curtain. I had butterflies in my stomach. Big ones. And they were fluttering.
In an instant, I knew why. It was Sunday. And I was going to stay with Roman for six months. Roman. I didn't know whether to jump up and down on my bed like an excited five-year-old or squeal like a teenager girl upon seeing her celebrity crush.
At breakfast, Jennie was happily expounding upon the joys of her night with Bill, but I wasn’t listening. I grunted politely now and then to slip her a quiver of apparent interest, but all I could think about was the predicament Bill put me in. How could I betray Roman's kindness by stealing from him? But my mother was all I had. I couldn't just let her die.
I was certain Roman would liefly kill me, and serve my remains to his dogs. The fact that he didn't have dogs didn't matter. The pressing matter here was that he'd kill me. Brutally.
Betraying Roman — I clutched automatically at my chest as it twisted distressingly — the thought was physically painful. I inhaled slowly, and then let my breath out. It didn't make me feel any better. Bill already had his weapons drawn, ready for whatever course my decision led him. He could kill Jennie anytime, get rid of the body just as effortlessly. It was just luck that he hadn't killed her yet. What was he waiting for? Did he have a much more sinister way to end her — our — existence? Because Jennie and I were sort of a package deal, at least, where it concerns Bill. I exhaled sharply. No matter what decision I took, the consequences would be dire. I was at a crossroads between being beheaded with a small kitchen knife, ensuring a slow, painful death, or choose the bite of the shark instead. Bill and Roman respectively. Roman wouldn't kill me, rather he'd cut me out of his life and that was far worse than any physical pain Bill could inflict on me. Either way the thought was horrifying all the same.
I shook my head back and forth in denial, trying to clear it at the same time.
"What's wrong, Nuru?" Jennie asked.
"My demons are hot on my tail," I mumbled hoarsely.
"That means?" she asked in a quiet, calm voice, not sounding as if she cared about the answer.
"Don't worry, I'll figure it out."
She shrugged and launched back into her story. She gushed about every detail of the first time she met Bill. My eyebrows pulled together as Jennie laughed at her own jokes. I just had to remember to throw her a smile, a fake, exhaustive smile she didn't scrutinize.
In the afternoon, Bill seemed surprised to find Jennie and me 'bonding' over a cup of coffee. It saddened me that he was aware of how weak that mother-daughter bond really was.
I hurried so I would be ready to go the second Roman pitched. I had my bags packed, and bedroom cleaned.
I heard the purr of an engine pull up in front of the house. My heart jumped to my throat.
"Nuru?" Jennie said. There was an edge to her voice that caught my interest. "You're green."
"I'm fine," I lied unconvincingly.
Her hand came down on my hands, that's when I realized they were trembling.
"You don't want to go?" she guessed.
"No, no," I quickly disagreed, pulling myself together. "Believe me, I do."
The knock at the door sounded and I sprung up nervously to go answer it. Jennie beat me to it.
"Hello... Mr. Alpha Reeves," Jennie said, seeming more hesitant than usual. "Come on in."
"No thanks, Mrs. Lynn. I'm pressed for time and I have a council meeting to get to."
Jennie blinked at the sound of his voice. "Oh."
I felt sorry for my mother. That was the same pause I made when I heard Roman's voice for the first time.
Jennie's pale eyebrows pulled together. "Well then, drive safe."
I could hear heavy footsteps descend the stairs and I hesitated, panicking. If Roman saw Bill, he just might explode with anger. He'd made no attempt to hide his dislike of him.
There was an awkward moment of silence. A very brief second.
"Let's go," I urged, my voice very unsteady. Bill was drunk, and Roman and I had a few seconds to escape before he caused a scene.
"Now!" I threw in impatiently.
Roman put one arm behind my back, not quite touching me, while the other carried my duffle bag over his shoulder, and walked with me from the porch down the slippery road to his car.
I glanced back at the house with a hint of uncertainty as the engine purred to life, my thoughts on my mother. What would become of Jennie now? How could I leave my mother with such a terrifying man? The guilt welled up as the house disappeared from sight.
We drove in silence. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't notice that my thoughts had transferred into dreams. When I first woke up, I lay with an arm across my eyes, sleepy and confused. I tried to go back to sleep, forcing my mind to continue the dream about Roman, but then my head spun with the memories of the last six and a half weeks. My heart felt like it was going to swell up and burst through my chest.
“No way!” I whispered my disbelief, jolting dizzily upright, whirling to look at the figure in the driver's seat. I was pleasantly surprised to see Roman there. "So you weren't a figment of my imagination?"
"You couldn't possibly dream up something as awesome as me."
"You're right!" I scolded him half-heartedly. "When you were in my dream you were a lot less infuriating, but a whole lot... charming."
"Aha!" he whispered. His dizzying breath fanned across my face "I so knew those were meant for me. You just admitted you were indeed dreaming about me."
I didn't like the smug look on his face. I shook my head — as if I could take back whatever confession he might've heard — and tried not to think about the embarrassing possibilities. Oh no! My stomach plunged uneasily. "Was I talking in my sleep?"
He processed the tone of my voice. His now-violet eyes were brooding, thoughtful. "And if you were?"
"You'd have to tell me what you heard," I said slowly, watching his eyebrows pull together in confusion.
"Why would I do that?"
I struggled to get a grip on myself as he continued to look at me with an unsatisfied glint in his eyes. I folded my arms over my chest and glared out the window, aware that the stubborn set of my lips made me look like I was pouting.
“Do you know that you snore exceedingly loud?” His voice was playful.